The Last Oracle

By Ben Hale

Text
Copyright © 2013 Ben Hale

All
Rights Reserved

To my family and friends,

who believed

And to my wife,

who is perfect

Table
of Contents

Prologue: The Apprentice

Chapter 1: The Dream

Chapter 2: Awake

Chapter 3: Stranger

Chapter 4: Unreal

Chapter 5: Auroraq

Chapter 6: Tryton’s Academy of Magic

Chapter 7: Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 8: The Guildmaster

Chapter 9: Iris

Chapter 10: The Captain

Chapter 11: Inferno

Chapter 12: The Key

Chapter 13: The Weight of Fear

Chapter 14: Water and Rox

Chapter 15: Revelations

Chapter 16: Tempest

Chapter 17: Conflicted

Chapter 18: The Swordsman

Chapter 19: Excursion

Chapter 20: The High Council

Chapter 21: Night Run

Chapter 22: The Magic Melee

Chapter 23: Chained

Chapter 24: Valiant

Chapter 25: An Unexpected Friend

Chapter 26: Plummet

Chapter 27: Truth

Chapter 28: The Library

Chapter 29: The Heart of Fire

Chapter 30: Tipping Point

Chapter 31: Seeking the Sword

Chapter 32: The Harbingers

Chapter 33: Remnant

Chapter 34: The Master of Flesh

Chapter 35: Hawk

Chapter 36: The White Mage

Chapter 37: Death of an Oracle

The Chronicles of Lumineia

Author Bio

Prologue: The Apprentice

Day 6

The
Second Draeken War

Enchanted chains bit into Draeken's flesh as he strained
against them. He gave no thought to their sting as he stared into the pit. The
emptiness to his prison paled in comparison to the scent of freedom. So few
lives remained, and when they perished he would be released.

Hatred surged within him, bitter and hard. He drank it in
like a potent liquor, and relished the flavor. It caused his whole frame to
tremble. The races of Lumineia had earned their fate. His lip curled as he felt
his chains weaken. It wouldn't be long now. These petty mortals had fought
well, but to no avail. This time their suffering would end in death. This time
. . . he would be triumphant. His
army was on the verge of victory, a victory that he had been denied ten
thousand years ago—

—But
how had he failed on his first attempt? His twisted mind grappled for an
answer, but it had eluded him for centuries and remained out of reach. His
magic flared with his rising anger, and crackled across his arms like coarse
lightning. The explosion of energy was siphoned off by the chains almost the
moment it appeared. Their growing weakness caused him to sneer at the darkened
opening in the opposite wall.

"I will be free, human," he growled at the empty
corridor. "And my vow will be fulfilled. Every member of your race will
bleed to their last breath, and it will be your doing."

Draeken snarled when his voice echoed into silence. "They
would have been slaves!" he bellowed. "But they would have survived!"

I would rather be dead than a slave.

The words were seared into Draeken's memory. The voice was
that of a dead man. Draeken argued anyway, unwilling to admit that a mere human
had trapped him. Alone, he screamed at his foe . . .

—The
lapse in sanity caused the tactical part of Draeken's mind to reassert itself,
and the madness reluctantly ceded ground. His eyes narrowed as he regained
control over his consciousness.

His fingers clenched into fists. When had Solitude become so
strong? In the beginning it had been nothing more than a fragmented whisper of
his mind—but thousands
of years by himself had changed that. Now it was like a rabid lion, seething
with rage and hate. Draeken vowed to keep it at bay, but even as he made the
promise he heard its cackling laughter. Draeken gritted his teeth. After
everything he'd endured, Solitude would not be his undoing.

He clenched his fists and drew in a deep breath. The scent
of sulfur and brimstone filled his nostrils, and their familiarity focused his
mind. Like a caged beast Solitude withdrew—not
far, but enough. Draeken turned his attention to his forces. He could not allow
himself to fail. Not this close. Three of his generals had been killed, leaving
only War, the last and the greatest.

How much more can the races withstand? He thought.
Even gathered as they were they should have fallen days ago. His gaze fell on
his shackles. Enchanted with the hope of the races, they were impervious to
anything but the destruction of their source—

Rend their flesh—

Draeken clenched his jaw against Solitude's maniacal howl,
and then forced a twisted smile. His victory was at hand, and nothing could be
allowed to mar it. Then a distant sound caused him to look upward. The rumbling
of battle came from higher in his citadel. His eyebrows tightened as he heard
his fiends screaming in pain and the sounds of death. A moment later the
conflict spilled into the corridor opposite him. Black bodies writhed and
twisted as they fought . . . each other?

Draeken sent a mental order for them to hold, but the fiends
refused to obey. In seconds the losers were torn to shreds, and the victors
prowled closer. Then another figure appeared. Striding between the placid
fiends, he reached the lip and stared across the gap at Draeken.

The man's skin was the color of ash, and boasted numerous
tattooed symbols on his torso and arms. His hair and eyes were black, but his
hands held no weapon. Sheathed, a sword hung on his back. Draeken blinked into
his mage sight and examined the man. What he saw surprised him . . . for he saw
a kindred spirit. Solitude smiled, and that alone was enough cause for him to
hesitate.

"I am Ducalik," the man began.

Draeken regarded him for a long time. Then dismissed him
with curt, "Kill him."

A thousand fiends heard his voice, and came flooding down
from the upper levels of the ancient forge.  They collided with the subverted
ones like an avalanche, and forced them toward Draeken's prison. Ducalik had
nowhere to go. Without hesitation he jumped into the pit.

Fifty feet he plummeted downward, but he landed easily.
Draeken elevated his opinion of the man. He evidently bore a natural talent
when it came to body magic. The fall would have broken the legs of a common
man.

In seconds the subverted fiends followed. Black forms
shrieked and jumped, trying to land beside their newfound master. The shape of
the prison made that difficult. Designed to hold the most powerful criminals,
the pit's walls were sheer.

Shaped like a giant cylinder, the floor of the prison did
not touch the walls. Rather the floor was a suspended circle of stone with a
gap on all sides. Some of the unsuccessful fiends fell into it. Their shrill
cries reverberated upward as they fell into the molten lava of the volcano.
Draeken and Solitude smiled in unison. The screams of the dying was something
they both missed.

The remainder of Ducalik's force gathered around him, but
the Draeken's loyal fiends far outnumbered them. They poured from the opening
in a cascade of twisting black flesh. The moment they landed they fell on their
previous allies in a frenzy of teeth and claws.

Blood soon slicked the stone, but Ducalik fought with
discipline. Sword in hand, he directed his forces into a phalanx that repelled
the first fiends that tried to attack. Bellowing in rage, he held the center of
the line.

Draeken looked down on the battle with no attempt to hide
his pleasure. Chained to a prison wall yielded few entertainments, and he
couldn't let this one pass him by.

Fiend fought fiend, and claws tore through black skin to
reach quivering muscles and bone. Ducalik swung his sword with desperation
fueling his arm, but there were too many, and one by one his allies died. He
tried to convert others, but time was against him.

Claws tore into his shoulder, and then his leg. He howled in
agony and cut the attackers down as he retreated. In seconds he was surrounded,
and only Draeken's desire to prolong the spectacle kept him alive.

The man's chest heaved with exertion as he swung his sword,
killing and maiming the fiends that lunged towards him. Blood poured from a
gash in his skull and numerous places on his body, staining his clothing.

Draeken's enjoyment was marred by Solitude.

Remove his hands and watch him beg, it said.

No, his tactical mind replied. We might be able to
use him. What if the races defeat the army?

Solitude issued a cackling laugh that Draeken hoped hadn't
been audible. If the unthinkable occurred and his army was imprisoned for
another sentenium . . . He shuddered, and for the first time felt a sliver of
doubt penetrate his mind. Seconds passed as he argued with his fragmented mind.
Should he kill him . . . or use him. In the end his unease won out. In an
instant the fiends retreated, leaving the tattered man in the center.

"How did you control my fiends?" Draeken asked. He
kept his tone languid, as if the answer was beneath him.

The man clenched a deep wound, but forced an answer.
"Two weeks ago your creatures killed my companions. I was the last, and on
the verge of death I commanded them to hold . . . and they did."

He was a barbarian. That much was obvious. Only the mountain
people possessed body magic, yet body magic had its limits and control was one
of them. Despite himself, Draeken was intrigued.

"A master of flesh, then" he said. The man's smile
was more of a wince. "Why did you come here? Controlling a few hundred of
my creatures is powerful by human standards—but
not by mine."

Ducalik's smile evaporated, and his expression hardened.
"I led my people to glorious victories. Many times I called on the bodies
of my enemy to hasten our triumph. Instead of praise, my people exiled me
because they were afraid of my magic."

"You wish to make them suffer."

Ducalik's eyes glowed with hate. Draeken stared him down,
considering the choice. The man's raw talent had potential, perhaps enough to
surpass Draeken's currently disappointing apprentice. But that very power could
be problematic in the future, so part of him was inclined to let Solitude have
his way.

"You are not powerful enough," Draeken said, and
the man growled. "—Yet,"
Draeken finished. "But I believe you could be."

Draeken swept a hand at the dark shimmering oval that hung
beside him. In response to his motion, the portal lowered to the floor. Then he
took a book from within his robe and tossed it towards the black and purple
vortex. It came to a stop at its center and hovered.

"Take the book . . . and step through the portal."

"What's on the other side?" Ducalik asked. His
black eyes had become wary.

"The fiends' home." Draeken didn't elaborate.
There was no need to frighten the man.

"What power will I gain?" he asked. Anticipation
twisted his features and he took a step towards the portal.

"Darkness," Draeken replied. If you survive.

"What if I say no?" Ducalik asked.

Rage rippled through Draeken, and he jerked a hand at the
complacent fiends. Like a fire had been extinguished, they whirled on him.
Snarling and tearing at the air, they were only held in check by Draeken's
will.

Ducalik swallowed as sweat blossomed on his features.
"It appears I have no choice."

"You have a choice," Draeken said. "Take the
power I am offering and live to claim your revenge. Or die . . . and let your
enemies be the victors." He didn't add that Ducalik's former clan was
probably dead already.

Ducalik bared his teeth, but nodded.

Draeken motioned to the portal. "When the Dark obeys
you, return to me."

Ducalik limped to the shimmering vortex and cautiously
accepted the book. On the threshold he looked up at Draeken. "Will I have
my revenge?"

"To my new apprentice . . . I swear it," Draeken
replied.

Ducalik stared at him before bowing his head.
"Master," he said. Then he stepped through.

In minutes the barbarian began to scream. Draeken merely
smiled and moved the portal back to its former position. If Ducalik succeeded
where Draeken himself had failed, then he would become a true asset. He doubted
that would occur, but the possibility of him doing so was still intriguing.

He listened to Ducalik's shrieks of agony as they grew more
and more distant. When they were gone he turned his mind to the war. Every
death marked a weakening of his chains. He licked his lips at the expectation
of freedom . . . and waited.

Forgotten, Ducalik screamed in the Dark.

Chapter 1: The Dream

Present Day

For months Tess's dream had been the same, and it always
began with her standing in a field of grass. The green strands swayed in the
breeze, rippling to the horizon in every direction. Several figures stood
around and behind her, their faces bland and featureless.  Like her, they were
dressed in jeans and t-shirts. Each of them stood as if waiting for someone to
arrive.

Materializing in the wind, Sara from Tess's biology class
strode toward them. The girl's brown hair hung free of restraint, moving in
sync with the grass at her feet as she approached, forceful and determined. The
behavior was at odds with what Tess knew about her, but she expected that. The
person might vary from night to night, but the dialogue and attitude did not.
Once again, Tess had the sense that the person was a stand-in for someone else.

At school Sara was shy and quiet. Here she was brusque and
to the point. “Welcome to flight school," Sara said. "Safety is our
primary concern, so the instant you don’t do as instructed, you will be excused.
You will have to wait until next term to repeat the course.”

Her unflinching gaze carried the threat well, and Tess had
no doubt that many had regretted their choices in the class.

Sara then went on to describe how to manipulate gravity,
warping it to form a bubble around you . . . until your body began to lift off
the ground. If any of them got that far she would help them learn to curve
gravity further. More than once Sara warned the class of the inherent dangers
of flying—and that injuries were common. She finished by informing them that
one in ten would pass her course.

No one around Tess blinked, and she wondered if they were
too excited to care.

Following the teacher's cue, Tess looked at her feet,
concentrating on the energy that bound them to the ground. She felt oddly
confident as the lines of energy became visible. The teacher’s instructions
lingered in her mind, and she willed gravity to bend.

At first it resisted, holding its shape as if fashioned of
steel. She focused harder, and felt a sense of triumph as the lines stretched
sideways. The force holding her down weakened, causing her heart to stutter in
her chest. Her power faltered at the wave of nervousness, but she pushed it
aside. Drawing a deep breath, she pressed on.

She fought to ignore the thrill of anticipation as more
bands moved away from her body . . . until the pressure on her feet faded. The
last thread of gravity moved—ever so slowly—until it joined the crystal shape
that had formed around her . . .

She rose into the air.

The panic surprised her—but couldn't hold. Flying was the
apex of freedom, the pinnacle of independence. She left worry and fear behind,
shed like a heavy cloak as her body climbed skyward. Joy and hope took their
place, surging forth with unprecedented might, inspiring an unquenchable desire
to go higher.

The earth had relinquished its grasp on her body, bending to
her willpower. She closed her eyes, basking as the clouds touched her heart and
soul. Without a thought, she swept her hands wide and turned her face to the
heavens, reveling in her newfound power. On a whim she banked to the side, and
felt the wind's embrace. Twisting and soaring, she flew until she got tired and
began to descend.

The dream always ended in regret.

Until she awoke in the air . . .

Chapter 2: Awake

Tess crashed into her bed, filling her face with a pillow.
Unwilling to move, she tried to convince herself of the absurdity of what had
just occurred—but couldn’t quite do so. Then images of comic book characters
came to mind, causing her to laugh at the notion that she had been airborne. When
it subsided she heard the soft patter of rain and raised herself to look out
the window. Although the touch of morning should have been prevalent in the
sky, she saw only blackness.

With a sigh she rolled over and stared at the
glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. Her mother had attached them the day
she'd broken up with her first boyfriend. Distraught, Tess had raced home after
school, angry and confused. That night she'd turned off her lights and
discovered the stars.

"I don't know why," her mother had said, "but
the night sky has always brought me peace. Perhaps it can do the same for
you."

The gesture and the subsequent embrace had soothed Tess's
heart, reigniting her confidence. The next day, Jason had made a joke to his
friends about what he'd tried to do with her. She'd dumped her lunch on his lap
. . . and then punched him.

She'd gotten detention from the principal.

She'd gotten ice cream from her dad.

Had it really been eight months since that day? She'd just
celebrated her fifteenth birthday when Jason had tried to put his hands where
he shouldn't. Her absolute refusal had caused him to become sullen and angry,
so she'd ended it.

They hadn't really spoken since the fight, but Tess couldn't
blame him. His black eye had lasted for longer than her detention. She grinned
in the darkness, realizing she was happy with the way it had worked out. Her
parents and friends had been supportive and she'd moved on.

Now she had four months until she got her license, school
had let out a week ago, and she hoped to get a job soon. The only black mark to
her future was summer school. She groaned as reality returned and she put her
dream aside.

She rose from her disheveled bed and paced from the room in
search of breakfast, pleased at the hour. Her father would be up in a few
minutes, and she rarely got a chance to see him before he went to work. She
stopped in the bathroom to tame her hair, and raked a brush through the brown
mess until it behaved. Wavy and thick, it was probably her best feature—when it
stayed in line.

Once it was under control she looked at the face in the
mirror. Brown eyes met her gaze, the flecks of gold enhancing their intensity. Her
features were smooth, but couldn't overpower the steel in her eyes. She sighed
and looked away. She thought of herself as attractive, but sometimes got the
impression she inspired fear rather than allure.

An alarm sounded from the neighboring room, causing her to
slip out of the bathroom and down the stairs. Feeling generous, she gathered
ingredients and heated a pan on the stove. By the time her father clumped down
the stairs the first ones were done.

"Pancakes?" her dad asked, a smile tugging at his
lips.

She grinned, and slid two onto his plate. "I thought
you could use a nice breakfast today."

He kissed her on the forehead and retrieved the syrup before
sitting. "Why today?"

"Because it's Tuesday."

He laughed and took a bite. "I do look forward to
Tuesdays."

Placing a pancake onto a second plate she sank into a seat
across from him, and slid him the newspaper she'd collected from the front
porch. Flashing a smile of gratitude, he opened it and began to read.

Despite the advent of technology, her father still preferred
to read the paper. Her dad was not one to talk unnecessarily, and preferred
actions over words. With black hair salted with white, he appeared older than
he was, but it didn't detract from his looks. With a square jaw and bright blue
eyes, he was more handsome than most of the fathers she knew. He worked for the
government, in a capacity that kept him from revealing everything he did.

"Ready for school to start?" he asked. He didn't
take his eyes from the paper, but his lips twitched like he wanted to smile.

She grimaced. "I'm going to spend my summer chained to
a desk. How can anyone be ready for that?"

His smile won the fight as he met Tess's gaze. "Don't
worry about it too much. I am sure you will get excellent grades."

She'd been forced to take summer courses for the last five
years, but the sincerity in her father's voice was unmistakable. His blatant
disregard of her track record may have been denial, but his unwavering
confidence in her was one of the reasons she loved him.

"Of course, Dad," she said. He ignored her sour
tone.

Before he could respond her mother strode into the room, already
dressed in a skirt and white blouse. Trim and fit, she had a small figure that
carried a subtle grace. Soft-spoken, she had a strength to her that appeared
when she taught the second grade. Kids learned early that she was an excellent
teacher, but not one to be crossed. Her deep brown eyes were warm with
affection and concern, yet had the power to pin seven-year-olds to their seats.

"Jack," she said, kissing him on the cheek. Her
fingers lingered on his shoulder.

"Kate," he replied with a smile, and lifted his
chin to face her.

She bent down and kissed him. Breaking away, she quirked an
eyebrow at Tess. "Breakfast? What's the occasion?"

"It's Tuesday," her dad replied before she could.

As her mom laughed, Tess realized the next pancakes were
burning. Leaping to the stove, she frowned as she removed them.

"Just the way I like them," her mom said. With
nimble fingers she grabbed a plate and caught them before Tess could dump them
into the trash.

"I can make more," Tess protested, but her mom was
already moving to sit beside her father. Adding syrup, she began to eat with a
smile on her lips.

"Since you are up, do you want me to drop you off at
school?" her mom asked, not even cringing at the charred food.

It wasn't a bad idea. Jefferson High was a few minutes away,
and even though she would be early to summer school (she shuddered at that
idea) it would mean she wouldn't have to wait for the bus in the rain.

"Fine," Tess sighed, "but don't tell anyone I
was early to my first day of summer school."

In sync her parents agreed, so Tess left to get ready.
Changing clothes and filling her backpack, she tried not to let despair cloud
her thoughts. It was still difficult to accept what she viewed as prison, but
she knew it was her own fault.

From an early age she'd despised homework, especially in
subjects that she regarded as nonessential. Math, science, and history were the
usual culprits, but others had been known to join them. Every time she had to
do work in those topics, she felt like she was tightening screws into her
skull.

She shuddered, her resolve weakening, but she forced herself
to lace her shoes. With a jerk of her head she stood and went downstairs. She
found her mother reading a book in the living room, already wearing her coat.
Together, they ran through the rain to the car. Cranking the air, her mother
turned on the radio and listened to the news. Tess stared out the window.

Richmond’s rain-soaked streets slid past in a sea of
concrete sprinkled with neat rows of trees and shrubs. Soon homes gave way to
shops, banks, and grocery stores. The few people out wore coats and carried
umbrellas, hiding their faces as they hurried on their way.

She only noticed him because she'd seen him before.

The man was tall and well built, and stood under an overhang
to avoid the rain. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket he seemed unassuming,
yet as their gaze connected Tess saw power, like she'd looked into a blazing
fire. Streaked with red, his black hair hung free to his shoulders. He looked
middle-aged, yet there was an intangible air about him that seemed timeless.

She couldn’t break the connection, and only looked away when
they had turned the corner. Why had he stared like that—like he was expecting
her? She'd seen him on two prior occasions, and both had been in the last week.
Words like stalker, crazy, and jerk came to mind, but none of them fit. The
catch in the man's eyes harbored no animosity. Instead it conveyed concern—and
understanding.

Regardless, the event was disturbing and she considered
telling her mother, but they were already pulling into the school. Tess wished
her good luck, but knew she didn't need it. Even in the summer program where
she taught special needs children, her mother excelled.

"You too, honey," she replied, "and don't
forget your bag." She flashed a smug smile and lifted Tess's backpack.

Her mother knew her too well. Although she'd tried the 'I
forgot my books' tactic a few times, it had only worked once.

"Thanks Mom," Tess said, unable to keep the
sarcasm from her voice.

"Bye," she sang.

Tess laughed and jumped out of the car. Dodging puddles, she
hurried inside. With half an hour before the first bell, she headed to the
library and browsed the books. Selecting a novel she'd read before, she plopped
into a seat and shook out her hair. She flipped through the pages to a part she
liked, but couldn't seem to garner enough interest to read. Her thoughts kept
returning to the man in the rain.

Who was he? And why had he looked at her like that? Was he
following her? Did it have something to do with her father?

Realizing she'd reread the same paragraph several times, she
closed the book with a grunt and reshelved it. She returned to the hall and trudged
to her classroom. Upon entering she was surprised to see someone already there.
With his head on the desk, it took her a moment to recognize him as a hockey
player from the previous summer.

Her lips thinned and she tiptoed toward a desk, not wanting
to wake him. Last summer he'd been crude and made disparaging remarks about
everyone in the class. She'd managed to keep her temper until he laughed at a
disabled kid. She'd knocked the chair out from under him . . . and gotten
detention . . . in summer school.

That time her dad gave her sprinkles on her ice cream.

Students trickled into the classroom, and each looked as despondent
as she felt. When the teacher arrived Tess did her best to pay attention, but
it didn't take long before she zoned out. She jerked awake when the bell rang
for dismissal. The first hour of torture was over and she gathered her books,
ready to be gone. She reached the door at the same time as the hockey player,
but he paused to let her go first. She almost grinned but held it in check.
Stepping through, she headed for trig.

The hours crawled by, and Tess occupied herself by staring
at the clock. When the final bell rang she was the first out the door. She felt
the urge to skip as she saw that the rain had stopped. It felt wonderful to
step into the light and turn her steps toward Amy's house. None of Tess’s
friends had failed their classes, but that didn't mean she couldn't spend time
with them after school. With the sunlight lifting her spirits, she enjoyed the
ten minute walk.

Amy must have been watching from her window, because she was
standing in the door when Tess turned onto her driveway.

"How was class?" Amy asked. She laughed at Tess's
expression. "Was it that bad?"

"Remember the kid I knocked to the floor last
year?"

"Jared?"

"Yeah, he sits in front of me again, or at least he did
until he saw where I was sitting."

Amy had been leading her up the stairs, but she whirled on
her. "It was your first day! Please tell me you didn't do anything."

"Of course not," Tess said, offended.
"Besides, he practically held the door for me when I left."

"I would too if you almost gave me a concussion."

"He's on the hockey team. Don't blame me if he's
fragile."

Amy laughed, flipping her long blonde hair. Of the few
people that Tess could call friends, Amy was the prettiest. Her full figure and
bright blue eyes were irresistible to boys. She was popular as well, but not in
the cheerleader sense. With countless clubs and organizations as part of her
agenda, she knew everyone.

The afternoon passed quickly as they watched movies and
talked. It had been a few weeks since they had found time around Amy's
schedule, but their friendship was easy, like pulling on a comfortable pair of gloves.
Despite that, there had always been a certain distance between them, preventing
anything more than surface conversation.

"What time do you need to leave?" Amy said, her
eyebrows pulling together as she looked at the clock.

Tess glanced at the time and blanched. She was late, again. She
grabbed her shoes and slipped them on. "Ah, my mom's going to kill
me."

"Your mom never kills you. She's too nice."

"Her look does enough damage," Tess said, rising
to her feet.

Amy conceded the point. She'd witnessed the scathing
disappointment before. "You'd better hurry."

They said their goodbyes and Tess rushed out the door.
Pausing at the sidewalk, she furrowed her brow. The sun was setting, but she
really didn't want to get into trouble on her first day. Grunting at the
choice, she took the shortcut through downtown, ignoring the echo of warning
from her dad. She silenced her concerns and told herself that he didn't need to
know.

Ten minutes later she realized she'd left her backpack
behind, but it was too late to go back for it. Frowning at the oversight, she
resolved to pick it up tomorrow before school. She picked up the pace as she
left the homes behind and entered the city.

Dodging behind a manufacturing plant to save time, she
walked past its empty shipping doors. The chain link fence on her left kept
dense foliage at bay, but left a solitary route to a dead end a short distance
ahead. Not liking the feeling, she took the first right toward the main road,
but came to a halt when she saw two people standing at the end.

Lounging against the sides of the alley, they were facing toward
her—and both wore hooded cloaks. Alarm bells went off in her head and she
changed direction. She could bypass them if she kept going around the next
building.

Hurrying now, she went behind a warehouse until she reached
the next alley. Two more, dressed in the same dark cloaks, faced her, fifty feet
away. She felt a sliver of fear and tried to remember if she'd put her pepper
spray into her bag. It had been a birthday present from her dad two years ago.
She felt the urge to curse when she recalled where it was, on a shelf above her
computer.

Then the men turned toward her.

Striding in her direction, their movements were focused,
determined. The black hoods were pulled low, obscuring their features in
shadow. She threw a look back and saw that the first two had appeared. She
frowned, considering her options . . . and bolted.

Racing past the last building, she skidded to a stop as she
saw that two more blocked the final alley. Her heart sank as she saw the trap,
and she considered climbing the fence to her left, but the razor wire deterred
her—for now. Instead, she sprinted into the cul-de-sac, hoping for a way
out—but the brick wall at the end yielded no escape. Whirling, she faced her
pursuers, her hands balled into fists.

Revealed by a single floodlight attached to the roof above,
the six men materialized from the dark. They advanced until they blocked her
path, and then stopped short. Tess had been building her strength to yell, but
their hesitation surprised her. What were they waiting for? She was about to
demand answers but another figure appeared. Striding through the line, he
slowed as he approached. Large and broad shouldered, his very posture felt like
a threat.

A swirl of thoughts and emotions cascaded through her. What's
going on? What do they want from me? Foreboding and menace laced her mind, but
she gathered her resolve to fight. Her heart jack-hammered in her chest,
flooding her body with adrenaline as he neared. Then he raised a hand toward
her.

This close to him the light was sufficient for her to see
the lower half of his face. His smile was smug, as if he expected her to be an
easy catch. Her anger exploded, erasing her fear in a burst of heat. Thundering
through her body it pounded into her skull, snapping her hesitation like a
stick. Deep down it felt like something thick and heavy broke as well, like a
rubber band had burst within her.

Taking a step forward she threw her arms at him, intending to
knock him sprawling . . .

—Fire erupted from the ground between them. It exploded into
view and caught the man's outstretched hand, searing a line across it. The man
cried out in pain and recoiled—but the fire was spreading. Flooding to the line
of hooded men, it sent the flames to the fence on her right, and to the
building on her left. Stumbling to escape, her would-be assailants withdrew.
Bringing up the rear, the leader cradled his arm and disappeared from view.

Tess stood frozen, her arms still outstretched as the
inferno raged in front of her. At this proximity the heat should be scorching,
but her body felt as cool as if she faced an A/C vent. Unsure of herself, she slowly
lowered her arms.

Then another figure appeared.

Flames licked and curled on his body as he strode through
the blaze, oblivious to its attempts to consume him. As he neared she
recognized the red streaks in his black hair. Stopping at the edge of the fire,
he waited, but Tess couldn't seem to find her voice.

"Did you do this?" she finally managed.

His smile was sincere. "No Tess." He gestured at
her. "You did."

Chapter 3: Stranger

Tess stared at the man, unable to comprehend his words. What
did he mean . . . her? Since no rational explanation seemed to fit, she
questioned her sanity. Had she lost it? Had her mind snapped and this was the
resulting hallucination? If so, why was the stalker in it? Or was she still
asleep? Maybe at any moment she would wake up still at Amy's house. . .

"You are not asleep," the man said, amusement
coloring his tone, "—or crazy."

"Of course I am," Tess forced the words out,
wondering why she was arguing with the dream—or hallucination—or dream.

"Do you mind if I . . ." He swept his hand at the
flames. "We don't want to call any more attention to you."

She shrugged at him, but despite herself felt a spark of
interest.

He made a gesture with his hand, and the fire shrank in
response. In seconds the blaze had evaporated, leaving steam rising from the
blackened concrete and scorched bricks. Tess blinked at the diminished light .
. . stunned at what she had just witnessed. Then she pinched her arm.

"Ow!" she said, surprised that it had hurt.

"Satisfied?" he asked. A grin threatened to appear
on his face.

"No," she growled, "I may not be dreaming—but
what just happened? Who are you? And how do you know my name?"

"You may call me Hawk." A faint smile tugged at
the corners of his mouth, as if he were recalling something humorous. "And
I know your name because someone tasked me with protecting you."

"That's ridiculous."

He laughed and said, "It might be best if we start at
the beginning."

"That's usually a good place to start," she said,
unable to keep the acid from her voice. How much did he have to explain? She
felt a flash of irritation at herself. This guy had probably just saved her
life, and she was treating him like a stick of dynamite.

Her tone didn't seem to faze him, and his smile remained.
Gesturing at her hands, he said evenly, "You might want to cool off,
though. Fire may not be the only thing that comes out now that your binding is
broken."

She looked at her fists hanging at her sides—and blanched.
Small flames curled from her hands and up her arms, tracing jagged lines across
her skin before sinking back into her body. Astonishment flooded her,
overpowering her anger and fear. As if in response to the shift in emotion, the
fires faded and went dark.

"Impressive, for one so recently unbound—but I would expect
nothing less from you."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded,
although curiosity now burned in her voice.

"My apologies," he said. "I did say I would
start at the beginning. Why don't we walk and talk. You do have a curfew, don't
you?"

She jerked as if she had been struck. She'd completely
forgotten why she'd taken the shortcut in the first place. But what would her
parents think when she told them about what had just happened? Probably put her
in a psych ward. She blew out her breath.

"My parents are going to kill me for being late,"
she growled.

She moved to step past him but his cough brought her up
short. For the first time he appeared uncomfortable. "What?" she
asked, held fast by his expression.

"They aren't your parents, Tess."

She started to shake her head, incredulous at the absurd
idea . . . but Hawk's piercing gaze gave her pause. "That's . . . not
possible."

"You should know they love you deeply, and have no idea
who you really are." He sighed and looked away. "Their daughter died
within hours of birth. It was one of the reasons why they were chosen to raise
you. I am sure you have heard the story of your miraculous recovery."

Indeed she had heard it—more than once in fact. She had been
born with lung problems and hadn't been expected to survive. The next day the
doctors had been astounded when she had made a full recovery. "How could
you know that?" she demanded.

"Because," he said, "I was the one that
placed you with them."

She stood frozen. Unable to gather enough denial, she asked,
"Who am I then?"

He gave her a crooked smile. "Have you ever heard of
Lumineia?"

She started at the change in topic. "The books? Sci-fi
. . . or fantasy, right?"

"Fantasy isn't always fiction," he said. He leaned
in, his gaze piercing. "Sometimes it's history."

She couldn’t help it, she laughed. Stepping around him, she
quickened her steps toward the main road. She wasn't surprised when he appeared
beside her, easily matching her pace.

"Next you're going to tell me that aliens exist? Or
zombies?"

"That's absurd," he scoffed. "Only magic is
real."

She laughed again, but the confidence in his expression
stole her humor. Irritated, she used the best argument she could come up with.

"If magic is real, then why doesn't everyone in the
world believe it?"

Hawk responded as if she had meant it to be a serious
question. "Six thousand years ago there was a war between the magical and non
magical peoples. Half the population of the world was killed, and the surviving
mages decided that magic should be hidden. They withdrew from the world,
quietly. Nonmages, or aurens as we call them, moved on. Before long magic faded
into myth and legend. The mages have been in hiding ever since."

"Where's your staff—or wand?" Tess asked,
wondering if her sarcasm masked her interest. Why did she care what a crazy
person thought—but she couldn't shake the image of fire dancing up her arms.

Hawk grinned and shook his head. "Mages don't usually
use wands—or many of the preconceived items associated with magic. In reality,
magic is just energy. A mage is someone who can see that energy, and manipulate
it. Different mages use water, fire, air, plant, light, and so on."

Tess stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the light to
change. She didn't like how difficult it was to argue with him. How was it
possible for him to sound so convincing? "I think you're nuts," she
said, settling on the obvious statement.

He shrugged, and then continued as if he hadn't heard her.
"Over the last few thousand years the bloodlines have become mixed, so
it's common for mages to use more than one kind of magic. Most of us wield one
or two, a few can do three, and every decade or so someone can do four. It's
been a hundred years since someone could manipulate five kinds of energy."

"So I'm a fire mage?" Tess asked.

"Oh, you are going to be much more than that, Tess. I
believe you're going to be an oracle."

The gravity in his voice caused her to stop. She turned on
him, glad to find her anger back. "And what is an oracle? Am I going to be
able to see the future?"

"Sort of," he replied with a shrug. "An
oracle is a person that can see every kind of energy. Because of her
ability, she can see connections that others can't. The greatest oracles were
said to be able to see hundreds . . . or even thousands of years into the
future."

"What do you mean 'were said'?"

"There hasn't been one in six thousand years."

"What makes you think I am one?"

"I have my reasons," he said, and he resumed his
walking.

Jumping to catch up, she demanded, "Why can't you tell
me? First you expect me to believe that magic is real, that earth's history is
a fantasy novel, and that mages live in hiding today. Then you tell me my
parents aren't my parents, and that I am an oracle—but won't tell me
why?!"

"I'm glad to see you're getting a grasp on the
situation."

She threw her hands up—but yanked them back when she saw
sparks coming from her palms. Furious at the absurdity of the entire
conversation, she rubbed her hands against her jeans so fast that her hands
hurt.

"That will only make it worse," Hawk said, his
tone mild.

Her arms went rigid as she forcibly calmed herself.
"Then what am I supposed to do? I just found out I'm a born
arsonist."

His eyebrows pulled together as he glanced at her.
"Every mage has different triggers, so I can only tell you the common
ones. For many, their ability is linked to emotion. Of those, fire is most
often tied to anger. Learning to control a type of energy is about identifying
its power inside of yourself."

She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then peeked at
her hands. To her surprise—and satisfaction—her hands had cooled. In an even
tone, she said, "So one outburst and I can torch my home?"

"To be honest, it will be different for you than most.
What you did in the alley," he jerked a thumb behind them, "would
have taken most fire mages a lifetime to accomplish. And what you did just
then," he gestured to her relaxed hands, "takes years of
practice."

His words reminded her of the group of men that had trapped
her, causing her to shiver. "Who were those men in hoods?"

For the first time since she'd met him, Hawk's features
twisted into anger. His gray eyes glittered with power and retribution as he
said, "They belong to a faction of our people that don't want us to stay
in hiding. They call themselves the Harbingers, and they came to take you
before you were unbound."

His expression frightened her, but not for her own safety. Fleetingly
she wondered if the Harbingers feared him as much as they should.

"You mentioned that before, being unbound. What did you
mean?"

He sighed, and the anger faded from his face. "If
parents desire, they can bind the magic in their children. For many reasons
your parents decided to bind your powers fully until the age of sixteen. As you
have gotten closer to your birthday, your power started to become noticeable.
It is why I have kept an eye on you—but I guess you didn't need it."

"I don't turn sixteen for four months−why could I
do that now?"

"If a mage is strong enough, they can break it early.
It isn't common though, and never with such a display."

"So how did you extinguish the fire?"

"You could say that fire is my specialty," he
said. A grin appeared on his face.

She frowned at the vague answer, but shook her head. They
were turning onto her street and she wanted more answers. She refused to even
consider the possibility that her parents were not her own, but it wouldn’t
hurt her to ask.

"Are you going to tell me about my 'real' parents?"
She resisted the urge to raise her hands and make quotations with her fingers.

"Both were quite powerful. Your mother was one of the
few that could do four kinds, and your father could do three types your mother
couldn't. He was one of the few class three flyers I have ever seen. More
importantly, they believed in an ancient prophecy about a modern oracle coming to
light. For certain reasons, they believed that their daughter would fulfill it.

"You must understand that this particular prophecy is
highly debated, and is quite controversial. In essence, is says that she will
unify the world with magic. The bulk of our people do not want our ways to
become known again. The rest want it to become public once more. If you are the
oracle—and I believe you are—then both sides want you. One side would silence
you, and the other would seek to control you."

They had arrived at Tess's house, and she was glad that
neither car was in the driveway. Although her head had begun to spin, she felt
the need to understand. "So what happens now, Hawk? This morning I was
just concerned about not failing summer school, and you were just a crazy guy
on the street."

He flashed a wry grin. "Tomorrow your parents will
receive a letter. It will be an invitation for you to attend a private school.
At first they will think it's a mistake, but after calling to request
additional information, they will be told that it does indeed mean you. The
woman on the phone will explain that you were selected because of a
recommendation by one of your teachers. After your parents agree, they will
drop you off at the airport for you to fly to Colorado. I will meet you on the
other side of security and take you the rest of the way."

"What's at this . . . school?" Tess said. She
wasn't ready to admit she believed everything, but the evidence was difficult
to ignore.

"An education for mages. You need to be trained to use
your abilities."

"What if I decide not to go?"

"Then you are free to return to your summer
classes."

He had her, and his expression revealed that he knew it. The
school could have been on the moon and taught the science of Martians, and she
still would have chosen it over math. She grimaced, abruptly overwhelmed.
"We'll see." Turning on her heel, she walked to her front door.

"One more thing, Tess," he called, causing her to
turn. "I wouldn't recommend telling others that you are the oracle,
especially the mages you will encounter."

There was a warning edge to his voice that sent a chill down
her neck, so she gave a curt nod before turning away. Unlocking her house, she
stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it, fighting
to keep her thoughts from melting into chaos. Staring at the ceiling, she tried
to convince herself it had all been a hallucination.

She hesitated, and then raised her hand to look at her palm.
Narrowing her gaze, she sought to bring the fire back. Heat gathered in her
hand, glowing red across her skin. It brightened, and reflected off her face
until it sparked into a tongue of flame. Surprised at how easy it had been, she
peered in fascination at the tiny fire. Fed by her will, it licked at the
inside of her palm, and swirled around her fingers in a warm caress.

Then she heard a car door open.

Fear spiked through her and she clenched her hand shut,
extinguishing the flame in a burst of sparks. Whirling, she peeked out the
window, and felt a rush of gratitude when she saw her mother striding up the
walkway. Looking past her, Tess saw no sign of Hawk. She opened the door as her
mom reached it and pulled her into an embrace.

"Was it that bad?" her mom asked.

"You have no idea," Tess murmured.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked. She
pulled away with a very motherly look of concern on her face.

What if she really wasn't her mom? Cringing from that
thought, she said, "Maybe later? I'm kind of tired."

Her mother stared at her for a few seconds. "Okay honey.
Do you mind helping me with the groceries, though?"

Tess smiled, feeling odd talking about groceries after the
conversation she'd had with Hawk. Nodding, she helped carry the sacks of food
into the house, hoping her mom didn't see her worried looks down the dark
street.

Once inside, she said her excuses and escaped to her room.
Collapsing onto the bed, she stared at the stars on the ceiling. For some
reason the story of Alice in Wonderland came to mind. When she was younger, she
had imagined what it would have been like to visit a fantasy world.

What if . . . she was already in one?

Chapter 4: Unreal

Tess couldn't believe how easily her parents had been
convinced. The letter and the phone call had occurred exactly the way Hawk had
described, but she hadn't expected how real it became. When her father had
suggested they look up Tryton’s Academy on the internet, she'd nearly passed
out. Before she could stop him, he'd found the website.

To her astonishment it looked normal. Complete with
pictures, a schedule of classes, sporting events, and even a list of teachers,
it almost convinced Tess that it was legit. After a few more phone calls, and
several days of nervous conversations, it was decided. Tess had a sneaking suspicion
that they were desperate to help her grades improve.

Over the next two weeks she held her emotions firmly in
check—and kept her eyes open for Hawk. A few times she thought she caught a
glimpse of him, but couldn't be sure. At first she had tried to talk herself
out of going, but the feeling of power in her palms was impossible to deny.

She was both terrified of what was happening, and excited to
the point of agitation. Would she really go with some crazy stranger? A small
part of her gave an emphatic no. The rest of her couldn't ignore the
supreme confidence in Hawk's gaze. She hated to admit it, but he didn't look or
sound insane.

Before she knew it, she was on her way to the airport. She'd
already said goodbye to her friends, and it had sadly been quick and easy. It
made her question how deep their relationships really were. She wouldn't have
classified herself as an outcast at school. She would have called herself
socially average, which just meant overlooked.

As they drove through the evening traffic, she tried to
maintain the conversation with her parents. It was obvious they were both
worried, but it looked like her mother was having second thoughts.

Tess tried to reassure them, but her heart fluttered in her chest.
How can it be so hard to breathe? Despite her chaotic emotions, she did
her best to respond with optimism. She still hadn't decided if her parents were
hers or not, but a lifetime of support and love couldn't be dissolved in a
single conversation—no matter how convincing.

Either way, she hated lying to her parents—yet couldn't
bring herself to tell them either. She had resolved to discover more about the
truth first, and then tell them. Hopefully they would be understanding when she
did, and not have her evaluated at a hospital.

On the outside she smiled and assured her mother that she
would be careful, and promised her father that she had packed the pepper spray
(which she had). Inside, anticipation curled her gut, and sent flutters through
her stomach as the exit to the airport came into view. In minutes they stood in
front of security and it was time to say goodbye.

With her mind buzzing she hugged her parents, and promised
to call them when she arrived. She felt tears well up as she embraced them.
Lingering in her mother's arms, she decided that no matter what, they were her
family. No amount of truth would deny her that choice.

Separating, she said farewell and stepped into the
slow-moving line of other passengers, annoyed at their pace. She looked back
once and waved. They returned the gesture. Then she turned a corner and lost
sight of them. She looked back anyway. Was she doing the right thing? She
stepped through the metal detector, feeling nervous and twitchy, and hoped
security wouldn't call her on it. She could only imagine the conversation.

Why are you so nervous, Miss?

Because I'm going to a secret magic school, and am not
sure if I'm doing the right thing.

Er, do you have any medication in your bags?

No, but I can prove it. Watch me light fire in my hands .
. .

Miss . . . what are you doing? Miss?! STOP HER! SHE'S GOT
A BOMB!!

She smothered a laugh and collected her backpack. Then she
took a deep breath and decided that whatever lay before her, she wouldn't
cringe like a frightened kitten. Her parents had raised her better than that.

Her chin rose and she squared her shoulders. Striding into
the terminal, she came to a halt as she realized she had no idea where to go.
She doubted she was actually supposed to use the ticket in her hand, but—

"—Glad you could make it," Hawk said, appearing at
her side.

She started, but recovered quickly. "I almost didn't
come."

He snorted in disbelief. "You couldn't resist. There's
no way you would have gone back to summer school after—"

"So where to now?" she said, overly loud.

His eyes sparkled and he indicated for her to follow him.
Stepping down a side corridor, he led her to a bank of elevators.

"What about the bags I checked with the airline?"
she asked as they waited.

"They will be in your room when you get there," he
said.

She nodded, but wondered again where they were going. Where
exactly did you hide a secret magic school? Then the doors slid open. They
entered the empty elevator, but he didn't say a word until the doors had closed.
Turning to face her, he said, "Would you like to choose the floor?"
He pointed to an almost invisible circle just below the bottom button.

She frowned, but obediently pressed it. When nothing
happened she grunted and whirled at him, but he merely laughed and ignited fire
in his hand. Gesturing toward the button again, he said, "Use your
magic."

Reluctantly, she turned back to the panel. She hadn't
attempted fire since the night she'd met Hawk, and now felt unsure of how to
proceed. Recalling his words on emotion, she let her irritation at being put on
the spot flow into her fingers. Warmth flooded her hand, followed by the spark
of flame. Before it could evaporate, she jammed her finger into the silver
button.

"Interesting," Hawk exclaimed, sounding pleased as
the elevator began to descend.

"What?"

"Our transportation system will not activate for anyone
but a full mage. An auren—or a young mage—would not have the power to do
it."

"So why could I?" Tess asked, feeling a very worldly
sense of pride. Then she realized that she'd merely turned on an elevator.

"I have no idea," he shrugged and raised an
eyebrow at her, "I've never known it to work for someone underage."

The elevator picked up speed, causing Tess to ask, "How
deep are we going?"

"To the terra trains. They will take us most of the
way."

"So the school is underground?"

"No," he said with a grin, "but I won't spoil
the surprise for you."

The elevator came to a stop before she could ask any more,
and as the doors opened her eyes widened with them. The elevator now looked
into a large dome-shaped cavern. Its ceiling was a smooth arc, as if carved by
a spoon, and was lit by white-flame torches bracketed in the walls. With no
cracks to mar its surface, the dark blue floor appeared equally polished, and
was only broken by two parallel tracks that ran down the center.

She'd been to New York City a few times, but these tracks bore
little resemblance to a subway. There was no trace of rusted or scratched
metal. Instead, several pristine white rails sat in a shallow depression. Faded
purple light veined them, rendering them difficult to look at. A gleaming
silver tube-train floated a few inches above one of them.

"So it's a subway?" Tess asked.

"You could call a BMW a toy wagon, but it would be
equally inaccurate," Hawk said, leading her out of the elevator as a
family of four stepped in.

Tess stared at the group, trying to identify something that
would characterize them as mages. The son looked to be ten, and the daughter a
little older. Both appeared bored as the father pressed a finger shrouded in
light to the elevator button. Tess turned away when the doors closed and fell
into step next to Hawk.

Only a few others were in the station. One sat on a bench
and stared off into space, his eyes glazed over. Every few seconds he laughed
to himself. I guess even mages have crazies in the subway, she thought,
but couldn't bring herself to ask Hawk. The man was dressed in a suit with an
expensive overcoat, and in any other setting she would have thought he was a
stock broker.

Then he laughed again, louder than before, his eyes clouding
further. Tess felt odd staring at him, so she looked away. A group of three
college age guys stood talking. One laughed while he played with a ball of
water in his hand. Flipping it casually into the air, he caught it and then flicked
it like a yo-yo. A string of water held it to his finger as the ball swung down
and up. Then he rolled it between his fingers like a gambler with a coin.

Fascinated by the display, Tess missed Hawk's comment.
Blinking, she faced him with an apology on her lips, but he grinned.

"Don't worry. I'll wager you master that inside of a
week, if not a day."

"Because I'm . . . because of who I am?"

His grin widened. "Partly, and because it's easy."

She frowned, wondering how simple it would be to play with
liquid water like that.

Hawk gestured to the train doors, which had just opened.
"Although it's inherently easy with some, all magics can be siphoned into
a ball of pure energy. Mastering orb skills is one of the first things students
learn. It's an excellent technique for practicing magic in small quantities
without fear of bodily harm."

Tess followed him onto the train. Although only ten feet in
diameter from the outside, the inside appeared larger, and was furnished with
curving couches and chairs. With the feel of a fifty-foot living room, the
train car was spacious enough to handle the thirty or so passengers with ease.

Only a few disembarked as they got on, but everyone in the
station stepped through the doors behind her. The stock broker found a seat in
a sofa chair before resuming his glazed expression. The water mage discarded
the ball of water, which splashed at his feet as he stepped onto the train.

"Come on, Nate, clean up will you?" one of his
friends said to him.

Nate grumbled under his breath but flicked a wrist at the
puddle. In seconds the water evaporated and Nate followed his companions
further down the tube. Another family and a group of women boarded as well. The
four women were talking excitedly, but Tess could barely understand what they
were saying.

"The head chancellor himself said the vote had no
chance of passing," one said.

"But I heard that Auroraq has almost been
discovered," the second said, her brow furrowed with concern. Her
expression was overly anxious, and the worry lines around her eyes made her
look older.

The third scoffed at the remark. "That's not true.
There is no way the auren's have the technology to see it. Their computers were
designed by techno mages."

"But what if they did vote for lifting the ban?"
the first challenged. "Do you think the world is ready for magic
again?"

"No," the fourth said, her expression adamant.
"As Chancellor Gerik said, our traditions must be upheld . . ."

Their conversation faded as they moved further down the car.
A moment later the floor shifted underfoot. Tess took a seat next to Hawk. As
the train continued to accelerate the rock outside the window turned into
streaks of grey.

"How fast are we going?" Tess asked, surprised at the
smoothness of the ride.

"With stops, we should hit Colorado in a little over an
hour, so I would say a couple thousand miles per hour."

Her eyes widened at the revelation. "How is that
possible?"

She must have spoken too loud, because a boy about her age turned
to look at her. He smirked and said, "New mag huh? What field?"

She felt a flash of irritation at his tone, but suppressed
the urge to snap at him. His slang was unfamiliar, but she could guess at their
meaning. "Fire, you?" she said.

His expression shifted to smug. "Fire and gravity. I'm
going to be a flier. The name's Marcus."

"Tess," she replied reluctantly.

"Headed for your first quad at Tryton’s? Me too. Can't
wait to get into the air. Maybe I'll let you fly on my board someday."

The boy's condescension was infuriating, so Tess didn't
reply. Instead she nodded curtly and turned away. His gasp brought her back to
face him—but he wasn't looking at her face, he was looking at her hands.
Feeling a sinking dread, she looked down and saw flames curling in her palms.
Liquid fire poured up her wrists and coiled around her forearms, flaring like
deadly gauntlets.

"You're not supposed to be able—"

His mother slapped the back of his head, causing him to
flinch and turn away. His mother's disapproving gaze flicked between Hawk and
Tess before she rose to her feet and pulled her son further down the car.

Tess took a breath and the fires cooled. Then she spun on
Hawk. "A little help would have been nice," she said. She made no
effort to hide the acid in her tone.

He shrugged, but his eyebrow was peaked. "You looked
like you were fine. To answer your earlier question, the earth trains are half
a mile below the surface, and use heat to provide power."

"We're that deep?" she asked, wondering if she
would ever cease to be astonished. Then she had the unsettling thought that as
far as the rabbit hole had gone, she wasn't even close to the end.

He nodded, his lips twitching as he suppressed a smile.
"Do you feel like you are in wonderland yet?"

"How did you know?"

"You aren't the first new student I have escorted to
Auroraq."

Tess snorted at that, and turned away to watch more of the
passengers. Aside from their position inside a secret, hyper-advanced,
magic-powered train, most of them betrayed very normal behavior. Some read
books or talked on a phone (How did they get reception down here?), but
most just spoke with their companions. One man was even sprawled on a couch,
asleep, while another wore a pair of shiny glasses and talked into thin air.

Before she knew it they pulled into their first stop, and
within minutes they rocketed away. Tess wouldn't have believed they were
traveling so fast except for the blur of stone out the window. The motion of
the train felt like flying, except without the turbulence.

That thought made her wonder if mages flew in planes. Or did
they have super jets that circumnavigated the globe in the span of an Oprah
show. Then she recalled the mention of a flier. The obnoxious teenager from
earlier had said he was going to be one, and didn't Hawk say her real father
had been a class three flier?

Before she could ask Hawk the train began to slow. They
disembarked into a crowd. This time they stood in a much larger dome, and
people bustled about the station in every direction. No less than eight tracks
dominated the cavern, and as they walked toward a bank of elevators another
silver train glided into place.

Many in the milling crowd wore cloaks around their
shoulders. Although the colors differed somewhat, the cloaks were nearly
identical in pattern. She was eager to see more magic, but it seemed few had a
reason to use theirs in the station.

Tess and Hawk entered the elevator behind a mother and
daughter. This time, she chose not to ask the host of questions that bombarded
her mind. She didn't want to betray her ignorance as readily as she had on the
train—but it was difficult to discard the image of the obnoxious boy as he
stood three steps in front of her. Then the elevator slid to a stop and she
stepped out into a sprawling mountain village.

"Welcome to Oakridge," Hawk said.

He swept his hand at the streets and buildings of a town
unlike anything she'd ever seen. Lit by the sunset and countless glowing lamps,
the streets were flooded with people. Dressed in everything from summer garb to
winter cloaks, they were of every nationality and country. For the first time,
Tess noticed that most of them bore a curious knot on the chest or shoulder.
Some carried more than one, and the colors varied greatly.

"What do the knots mean?" she asked Hawk,
gesturing to a group of girls wearing matching blue knots.

"The color represents their field. Red is fire, blue is
water, pink is healing, and so on. A knot is earned through mastery and
training. Each is an honor to receive, and most mages will display it
regularly. The more sides to the knot, the higher the skill."

Tess nodded, but didn't get the chance to ask more as Hawk
led her through the bustling city. Businesses and homes alike were distinct.
Some were vaguely medieval, others looked like something out of a science
fiction novel. Shops carried items that begged for explanation.

The Green Leaf boasted walls of bright green, and had trees
and flowers growing out of the interior. As they passed, Tess could have sworn
one of the trees waved at her. Silver Notes sat beside it. Fashioned of curving
blue walls, it displayed odd instruments and had the most beautiful music
coming from inside.

Farther down she saw a shop with a crowd gathered around it,
examining what could only be described as short, liquid silver surfboards. They
floated off the ground or hovered above displays. Through a gap in the crowd
she caught a glimpse of a sleek, notched board. Its surface swirled with black
as it floated next to a sign.

The Night Carver

Wind flyer only

8400 Marks

It went on to describe the board's features, which included
an embedded cyclone and automatic gravity absorption for longer flights.

The whole atmosphere of the city was surreal. People and
families walked the streets or browsed the magical wares like it was normal,
talking and strolling as if there was nothing unique about where they stood—yet
to Tess everything about Oakridge seemed impossible.

Trash, power lines, and vehicles were nonexistent, and in
their absence the space had been filled with things she could not comprehend. A
fountain flowed in a beautiful cascade that never touched the pond's surface.
Instead it cycled back on itself in increasingly complicated patterns.

On the other side of the square, a squat building had steam
blowing from strange windows near the top. Enormous, oddly shaped pots filled
its shelves, and included a variety of peculiar utensils and cooking
implements. The sign read, Cooking with Cauldrons. Beneath it, a large platter
bore real food on its surface.

Further down an entire shop floated off the ground, and people
strolled under it as if that were normal. Great trees bridged the gap between
the taller buildings, providing sweeping, upper level pathways. At one point
the stones of a building pulled out of the walls and reformed into a different
shape, all while the people inside continued to shop.

The only thing that appeared normal was the bookstore—until
she noticed that it carried no books. Instead, it boasted racks of sleek,
tinted glasses. "Why does the bookstore have glasses instead of
books?" Tess asked, coming to a halt to peer into the window.

"Oh, I am glad you reminded me," Hawk said.
Shifting direction, he drew her into the open door.

Stepping into Knowledge and Archives, Tess examined the
glasses on the bookshelves. Spotting one that looked about her style, she
withdrew it and put it on—and stumbled backward.

Expanding outward, symbols, letters and numbers appeared at
the edge of her sight. The three-dimensional diagrams moved and shifted the
moment she glanced at them, and re-formed into patterns that she recognized.
Then she saw script forming, hanging in mid-air with the bookshelf fading into
the background.

What kind of glasses are—

The sentence appeared in the top corner of her field of
vision, echoing the words in her head. They stopped when her thoughts came to a
jarring halt. She blinked and removed the glasses, afraid the words had
appeared in the air, but they hadn't. Confused, she put them on again.

Where did the words go?

As before, her thoughts floated a few feet away from her.
She peered over the top edge of the spectacles’ frame, and realized that the
words were only visible to her. She hastily removed the spectacles before any
more of her thoughts could be written.

"We'll take one pair of omni-glasses," Hawk was
saying to the shopkeeper, and then caught sight of Tess's bewildered
expression. With a grin he added, "Do you like those?"

She nodded, not wanting to betray her confusion.

He smirked and tapped a glowing pad on the counter. It
brightened at his touch and then resumed its previous light-blue color. As they
walked out he explained. "Think of them as the ultimate computer. You will
need them to do most of your schoolwork, and research."

"How do I print?"

Turning down a side street, he gestured to the glasses in
her hand. "There is a rune on the top. When you have finished mind
writing, you can look at a paper and tap that. Everything you have written will
reflect on the page."

"What about—"

"Multiple pages too," he said, suppressing a
smile. "Just stack the paper and it will take care of it—but to be honest
you will rarely need paper."

"I was going to ask about research."

He laughed. "You can connect to the mage-net at a
glance. It has the auren internet, of course, but it is expanded to include
mage sites—which are
three-dimensional and interactive, among other things. I think you will find it
quite useful."

She stopped, and he turned to face her.

"They must have been expensive," she said.

He shrugged. "Not as much as you would expect. They've
been used for a few decades now, so they are pretty common."

"Still," she pressed, "how did you pay for it?"

"In the mage world there is no physical money. Currency
is called marks, and is linked to your unique physical make-up. It's a fusing
of body magic and techno magic."

She thought of her tiny bank account in Virginia. "How
am I supposed to pay for things in the future?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I took the liberty of
transferring a few thousand marks to your account. It should last you for the
next few years . . . if you use it judiciously."

His discomfort made her think that the gift was a great deal
more than he implied. At a loss for words, she settled on, "Thanks, Hawk.
I promise I won't go nuts."

He smiled and motioned toward the spectacles. "You can
check your balance through those, and don't worry about theft. Marks are
impossible to steal. Even twins don't share the same physical markings."

Resisting the urge to try them on and find out how much he'd
given her, she slid them into their case. Then she followed Hawk through
another intersection until they reached a strange building. Built with
stability in mind, its supports were anchored with enormous hands of shaped
steel. Large and circular, it contained a single entrance through an abnormally
thick outer wall.

Striding through the portal and past a handful of people,
Hawk spoke to a bored man sitting behind a carved wooden counter. "Two for
the next launch," he said, and tapped the counter.

The counter flickered as the man pointed to the door
opposite the room. "Leaves in ten minutes. You can board now if you’d like."

Feeling apprehensive at the thickness of the door, Tess
nevertheless followed Hawk through it. She blinked when she realized that the
interior of the structure was open to the sky, and was shaped like a giant bowl.
Coming to a halt, she stared at the large, clear ball that sat on a platform in
the center.

Gray and lined with grooves, the sloped walls were seamless
as they curved out and up. Then she realized that air flowed counterclockwise
through the space. As if directed by an unseen hand, the breeze felt
controlled, like the air from a vent.

"What is it?" she asked, taking a step forward

Hawk gestured toward the ball. "It's a tornado
launcher, commonly known as a Terminous. It uses focused wind magic to throw us
into the sky."

She felt her gut tighten. "But I . . . ," she
swallowed, ashamed to admit the truth.

"Are afraid of heights?" he said, nodding in
understanding.

"How did you know?" she demanded.

“Of course you are," he said. "But that's just
because you haven't performed gravity magic."

She blinked in confusion, but he didn't elaborate.

"It's alright. Launchers have a flawless safety
record."

"With my luck I will be the first to cause an
accident."

He grinned. “Then I would fly us there myself."

"Are you a flier?" she asked.

"Of sorts," he replied, his voice cryptic.

Reluctantly she followed him into the ball, grateful that no
one else entered. He stepped to the opposite side and sat on a translucent bench.
Indicating for her to do the same, he said, "Out of curiosity, what do you
perceive about the moving air?"

She hesitated, and then said. "It feels controlled,
like someone is guiding it."

"Excellent," he said. "There are four wind
mages who control the wind. A tornado this size is too strong for any one mage
to control."

The man from the lobby then interrupted them. Approaching
the ball, he said, "It looks like you have the launch to yourselves. Have
a safe ride." He caught one side of the clear door and swung it closed. The
glass melted together, leaving no trace of an opening. Departing, the man also
closed the door to the front office. As it locked into place the wind in the
bowl began to speed up.

The air darkened as it accelerated, and continued to pick up
speed until the building disappeared. The black cloud whipped around the ball,
tightening toward it. The light dimmed as the cloud approached, until the only
light came from the hole at the top of the cyclone. Tess began to look for a
seatbelt.

"You won't need it," Hawk said mildly.

His tone helped reassure her, contrary to the billowing
darkness at his back. Faster and faster it increased its speed, until suddenly
she felt the ball quiver. The tornado reached them at the same time something
beneath them released.

She held her breath as it sucked them into the sky.

Chapter 5: Auroraq

Tess watched the ground recede through the clear floor,
feeling like her stomach was going with it. She mentally cursed the idiot that
had made it transparent. For the first time since she had met him, Hawk
remained silent.

"I know it's hard the first time," Hawk said after
a while, his tone sympathetic as they reached the clouds and leveled out.

"Does the floor have to be clear?" she said
through clenched teeth.

"If it wasn't, then aurens might see it," he
replied.

Finding that the conversation was distracting, she turned to
him. "Why are nonmages called aurens?"

"It means forgotten light," Hawk said. "In
truth, most everyone has magic these days, but it requires all three points to
be a mage."

"I have no idea what that means."

He frowned. "To answer your question I'll have to cover
some basics. As you will learn soon, there are three aspects to using your
magic. Together, sight, force, and control form the triangle of magic.

"Sight gives the ability to recognize a certain form of
energy. Force is the rarest of the three, and confers the basic ability to manipulate
that energy. Control heightens the effectiveness and precision of spells. A
person with more control also has a greater innate understanding of that energy.

"Most members of mankind have at least one part of
magic, and generally it follows their chosen vocation. A miner probably has
sight for earth magic. A gardener may think that understanding plants comes
naturally to him. Someone who has the intuition to become a doctor typically has
sight and control of healing magic. A gifted athlete may have control of body
magic."

"So everyone has magic in them?" Tess said. She
was trying not to think about the clouds floating past them.

Hawk shook his head. "Not everyone, but most. They are
called the forgotten light because at one time everyone on earth knew about
magic."

His words reminded her of the fiction she had read.
"What about elves and such, do they exist?"

"Yes and no," he replied. "I told you the
races began to mix, but I don't think I told you why."

His brow furrowed as he said, "Almost ten thousand
years ago there was a war that nearly destroyed every living soul. Siarra, one
of your ancestors, led the races to unite—but
even then they almost lost. With three quarters of every nation dead, the world
could not return to the way it had been.

"After what they had endured, the surviving kingdoms
lost much of their animosity toward each other, and people began to travel. As
is the way of life, the races began to change as their blood became mixed.
Features and traits altered with time, and today you can see traces of them in
the modern world.

"The elves, with all of their honor and wisdom,
migrated to the east, and their descendents live in Japan, China, and the surrounding
region. The dwarves, strong and proud, remained in the north, and their blood
is strongest among the Irish and Scottish peoples. Humans, of course, spread
the farthest, and over time filled the globe."

Tess took a moment to absorb that information. Then she recalled
his comments about the prophecy regarding her. "So how will they react if
magic becomes public?"

Hawk's gaze flickered past her. "Perhaps a question for
another time. You might want to see Auroraq as we approach."

Tess swiveled on her seat, and stared at the enormous cloud
they were nearing. Large and foreboding, it appeared just like any other storm
cloud, except it lacked any rain. Before she could ask what lay beyond it, they
penetrated the fog. A heartbeat later they burst into the light—above a city.
The sight caused her jaw to drop.

Resting inside the hollow, open-topped cloud, four teardrop
sections extended out from a circle. At its center, a single, massive tower
rose. Constructed of curving stone and sparkling glass, it reflected the light
from the afternoon sun onto the city. The surrounding area was layered with hills,
gardens, trees, and flowing water.

"Eastpoint and Westpoint are reserved for private
residences," Hawk said, directing her attention away from the tower.
"And they always point the direction they are named after. Northpoint
contains recreation and other civic buildings. The school is on
Southpoint."

"How long has it been in the sky?" she breathed.

A moment ago she'd been looking at the ground thousands of feet
below. Now she was looking at a city that was only hundreds of feet down.
Knowing that beneath the city was miles of air didn't alleviate her fear.
Despite her anxiousness at the height, she pasted her face against the glass.

"Over two hundred years," Hawk replied. "At the
time, aurens were developing technology at an ever increasing rate. Of course,
some of that was with the techno mages’ help, but not all of it. The countries
were also expanding across the globe. The council deemed the surface no longer
safe. The choices were to go underground . . . or into the sky.

Hawk then laughed. "Despite the mages effort to stop
them, the aurens soon developed their flying machines, and the sky began to
fill as well. The Bureau of Magical Technology was enlarged to protect Auroraq
from discovery. I understand at least fifty technology mages are always on duty
to keep the city from being found. It's one of the highest paid career choices
for their field."

She gasped when she saw a pair of women flying toward the higher
levels of the tower. With their hair and cloaks streaming behind them, they
soared upward and alighted on a wide balcony near the top. The entire time they
chatted as if it were an afternoon stroll on the beach.

"And them?" she asked Hawk, jerking a thumb at the
two women. "Is that common?"

He shrugged and swept a hand at the city. "Up here, you
could say that uncommon is the norm. That said, flyers are somewhat rare. I
would wager those two are class one. Flyers that are class two and three
typically use their boards."

"What do you mean, boards . . .," she trailed off
as she recalled the silver boards in Oakridge. Then she spotted a man streaking
through the cloud ring that surrounded the city. Balanced on his board, he curved
toward Westpoint. Nearing the ground, he flipped into a lazy roll before he
disappeared behind some trees.

Her mouth dry at the spectacle, she spun to face Hawk.
Skewering him with her gaze, she said, "Just how . . . big . . . is
this?"

His expression was sober. "This is what the world was
meant to be, Tess, but fear of magic and the unknown prevented it. It's why
your life—whatever you choose—will have such an impact. For better or worse, all
of this coming to light would alter the fabric of life on Earth."

Tess felt as if a weight had settled onto her shoulders.
Responsibility wasn't something she had ever shied away from, but this was more
than just mowing the lawn. Subconsciously she twitched her shoulders, as if
that would somehow alleviate the burden being placed on them.

"Aren't you supposed to give only a piece of the truth?"
Tess asked. "Isn't that how other books tell it?"

He flashed a wry smile. "I have come to think that
truth shared becomes truth believed. Withholding knowledge from you now would
just make you doubt me later, or worse, doubt yourself. I would rather you know
what you face as early as possible."

His eyebrows pulled together. "Keep in mind, though,
that we lack the time for you to learn everything in a few conversations. In
time, you will learn everything I know. Some of the questions you ask may have
long answers, so you will have to trust me when I tell you to wait for
them."

"You're putting a lot of faith into a single
girl," she said, frowning at his words. "Aren't you afraid I will crack
under the pressure?"

"Should I be?"

She didn't have an answer for him, so she shook her head.
Hawk seemed to take that as agreement. Then he smiled and indicated for her to
look to the side. She followed his gaze and saw that they were now approaching
a stunted, lazy tornado. They had been floating around the city for the last
several minutes, but they were now descending toward it.

A moment later they decelerated as the slow-moving cyclone
caught them in its gentle embrace. They floated down its center until they
touched the bottom. As they clicked into place, the wind evaporated, leaving
them in a bowl similar to the one they had launched from. Although Tess was
troubled with Hawk's comments, she soon found herself distracted.

"Where are we?" Tess asked as they exited the
launcher.

"The southern Terminous," Hawk replied. "Due
to the volume of traffic, there are four launchers in the city. Each is located
at the connections between Sentre and the Points. This is the closest to the
academy."

To Tess's right, an enormous gate spanned a throughway.
Students and parents streamed through it on their way into the school, clogging
the gap despite its size. Talking excitedly, no one spared a glance at Tess or
Hawk. On the opposite side of the gate she caught a glimpse of massive trees on
Sentre, but the crowd made it difficult to see more.

Hawk led her left, and together they joined the procession
flowing toward the school. Giant statues of men and women bordered the path.
Like scholars from forgotten ages, they stood as sentinels, welcoming them to
the academy. With the dark cloudwall at their backs, they appeared forbidding
and intense as they looked down on her.

Between the statues a low wall kept people from falling off
the edge of the city. At one point they walked close enough for Tess to peer
over it. She jerked her head back, wishing she hadn't. The only thing beyond
the wall was clouds, reminding her that a very long fall lay within
reach. She wondered where a stone would land if she dropped one over the edge.
She shuddered at that thought and fixed her gaze ahead.

The walls widened as they worked their way further onto
Southpoint. It made her feel oddly vulnerable, as if she were walking out onto
a shaky limb extending from a tree trunk. Only the unwavering ground and the
indifference of the people around her kept her fear in check.

The group spread out as the walls receded. Kids and youth
raced through the adults, and the entire atmosphere took on a boisterous air. Several
adults took to the air, and they flew in loops and twirls. The smooth path gave
way to gardens and large pathways, and it became evident that everyone was
headed toward an enormous building directly in front of them.

Shimmering with reflected sunlight, the gigantic crystalline
dome was flanked by two smaller oval buildings. Students and parents filed into
line to enter the various doors. As they approached, Hawk began to add a
running commentary.

"The building on the right contains the World Room, and
the offices of the school directors and other staff." He swept a hand at
the pair of matching structures. "The one on the left is the General Magic
School. Remedial Magic, Magic in the Modern World, and all of the Earth Studies
courses are taught there."

Then he pointed to their destination. "This is Star
Hall. It's where general assemblies and other formal functions take place. You
will start and end each term here, and sometimes meet during. It's open to the
students outside of that, and I understand that many like to study here.
Practicum is strictly forbidden inside, though."

She assumed practicum referred to practicing magic, but why
would anyone want to study in an amphitheatre? She had her answer as they
crossed the threshold.

"Welcome to Tryton’s Academy of Magic," Hawk said.

She stood frozen, staring at the ceiling. As if they had
left the earth, she looked up on the eternity of space. Planets, moons, and a
handful of glowing suns soared through the heavens. Galaxies, star systems, and
thousands of stars stretched in every direction.

Three-dimensional and sweeping in its scope, the view could
have been a night sky—except for the proximity. It felt as if space had drawn
close to their planet, and knelt down to look into this single building.

She peered into the celestial bodies, trying to find the
surface of the dome, but could discern no slope or curve. The sight was real
enough that she glanced back through the doors to ensure she was still on solid
ground.

"I know how you feel," Hawk said, hiding a grin. “We
should find a seat, though. Even as large as it is, it isn't large
enough."

Tess tore her gaze from the night sky and followed Hawk into
the seats. Wrapped in concentric circles, the benches were fashioned of
polished black granite. Flecks of white and silver reflected inside them like
precious stones. Although there were hundreds of benches in the enormous bowl,
many were full to overflowing with chattering youth and parents. Hawk and Tess
found a seat as a light magnified in the center.

A pillar stood at the focal point of the Hall. Rising thirty
feet into the air, its top was large enough for a small house to rest upon. The
entire column brightened as a cloaked figure flew up the side. Reaching the
top, he alighted on its surface and raised his hands for silence.

"Welcome, students and parents, to Tryton’s Academy of
Magic."

He had no microphone, but the man's voice flooded the
chamber. It did not echo as Tess would have expected, nor was it overly loud.
Old, but not ancient, the man retained a strong posture that suggested an
athlete in his younger days. His black hair was streaked with silver.

"For those who are new to our school, I am Director
Grayson, principal administrator of Tryton’s for the last twelve years. It is
with pleasure that I announce the opening of our second quad this year. With
the highest attendance on record, we will have over four thousand students with
us this term."

Applause interrupted him, and he allowed it to continue
before silencing it with a wave.

"We only have a few announcements, and then we will
allow each of you to get settled in for the night. Classes start first thing
tomorrow. As a word of warning, please steer clear of the animal buildings
unless you are at least a class two animal mage. As many of you know, we had a
few injuries over the last year from the magical creatures.

"Also, I would like to address the rumor about the
upcoming council vote. I want to assure all of you that it is only a formality,
and has no chance of passing."

As the director continued to speak Tess leaned over to Hawk.
"I've heard others mention the vote before. What is it all about?"

Hawk met her gaze. "One of the council called for a
vote to bring the magic world public."

She felt like cold water had dumped in her veins, and she
wondered why. Wasn't that exactly what she was supposed to do? Her thoughts
kept her from paying much attention to the directors next few remarks. When he
dismissed the crowd, she felt a twinge of guilt at not listening. If Hawk noticed
the lapse he didn't comment on it. Together, they joined the procession leaving
Star Hall.

While the bulk of the crowd streamed back toward Sentre, Hawk
led her to the side. Alone, they walked toward the right-hand building. Once
they were clear of the others, Hawk said, "First we need to get you
scheduled for your classes. You won't have time tomorrow."

"What about them?" she said, gesturing to the
milling families.

"They would have already done so yesterday. Technically
we were supposed to present you last week. We will join them in a few minutes,
though."

Tess frowned at that, wondering why Hawk had chosen to bring
her late. From the little she knew about Hawk, he always had a purpose. The
obvious answer would be for her to avoid scrutiny. She just hoped that was all
it was.

Chapter 6: Tryton’s Academy of Magic

Hawk led her through the grand front doors. He slowed his
pace and swept a hand at the chamber. "This is the World Room. It's meant
to represent every corner of the earth."

Tess blinked in wonder as she stepped into the interior of
the enormous hall. Vaulted blue ceilings reached several floors up and swirled
with shifting patterns of light. Granite pillars embraced the roof and held
living trees that wrapped around them.

Afternoon light graced the cavernous space, spilling from
the exterior through enormous windows. Filling the room almost to blinding, it
revealed the paintings that covered the walls. Etched in flawless detail,
mountains, rivers, and forests breathed life into the hall—and not all of it
was drawn.

Much of the vegetation grew straight from the paintings,
their branches extending right out of the wall. The rivers were also real and
flowed down the contoured walls before crossing the burnished wood floor. Small
arched bridges crisscrossed the trickling waterways.

Overwhelmed by the grandeur and beauty, Tess nonetheless
found her gaze drawn to the statue that rested at the center. It stood on a
rise of stone, and although the woman was short, she had an intangible quality
that made her appear larger, as if her presence filled the room.

The statue was of a cloaked elf holding a long-bladed sword.
Reversed in her grip, the weapon angled up and behind her back, as if she were
ready to swing it into use at any moment. Despite the statue’s proud bearing
and vivid features, it was the shimmering blue tattoo on her right arm that
drew Tess's eye. Like jagged lightning, the mark lit the stone in a bluish hue,
giving the statue's expression an intensity that commanded attention.

Hawk walked past the figure before Tess could inquire about
it, and strode to an enormous desk near the rear of the chamber. Wide and
gilded with brass, its height allowed for an excellent view of the room. An older
woman sat behind it, and stared down at them through a stylish pair of
spectacles.

"Hawk," she said, a sly grin spreading on her
wrinkled face. "It's been a while."

"It has, Eden. It's good to see you alive and
well."

She flipped her grey hair and laughed. "Aged perhaps,
but still well. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I am here to deliver another student to the
school."

Eden's steely gaze flicked to Tess, and for some reason Tess
had the urge to flinch. Eden’s eyes narrowed. "She's late. New students
must be presented during the break, not after."

"I must beg your forgiveness for my oversight,"
Hawk said with a disarming smile. "I must have lost track of the
time."

"I'm sure," Eden drawled, obviously unconvinced.
Then she sighed. "But since you are here to vouch for her, perhaps she
will not need to be presented at this time."

"I thank you for the exception," Hawk said. He
inclined his head in gratitude.

"But she will have to be presented at a future
date," Eden said with an apologetic look. "I can delay it until the
next break, but only because most of the directors are already gone."

"That should be fine, Eden. Thank you."

"Name?" she asked.

"Tess Oliver."

Eden stared over Tess's shoulder, her gaze darting in
several directions. With a start Tess realized that the spectacles Eden wore
were omni-glasses. Eden then grumbled, her eyes flicking back to meet Tess's.
"You weren't supposed to be here for another few months."

"She broke her binding," Hawk said. "And
since she was placed with a family of aurens, I thought it best to bring her
early. Her parentage suggests enough power that caution would be prudent."

Eden grunted but her gaze didn't leave Tess. "I can't
dispute that. It looks like we will just have to insert you into the current
quad."

"What's a quad?" Tess asked. She'd been distracted
by the reference to her true parents, and couldn't catch the words in time.
Privately she wondered why she felt nervous to speak. It was probably the first
time in her life that she had held her tongue.

Eden's eyes bored into hers. "Classes at Tryton’s run
in twelve-week sessions, with a break in between them. Each term is called a
quad. You are allowed up to six classes per quad, but depending on the year
there will be two or three required courses. Since this is your first year, you
must take History of Magic and Remedial Magic, but you will not be required to
take an Earth Studies course because you were raised by aurens. In its place,
you will need to take Magic in the Modern World. You may select three other
courses."

Eden turned and swept a hand at the wall behind her, where a
ten-foot circle of different colored knots wove themselves together. "As
you will learn in Remedial Magic, this is the circle of energy. Aside from the
Unknowable Energies, all the magical schools are represented here. Now, what
did you display at your unbinding?"

Before Tess could answer Hawk shifted, drawing Eden's
attention back to him. "I would request that she be allowed to take water,
fire, and gravity from the mind school."

Eden's eyebrows shot up. "To take three power classes
in your first term requires a graduated tutor—"

"Which I volunteer for," Hawk said, and then
flashed a self-deprecating grin. "I hope my qualifications are
sufficient?"

Eden appeared surprised and flustered as she blinked and
shifted in her seat. Finally she nodded in acquiescence. "Er . . . of
course they are, Hawk. Give me a moment to print her schedule."

Tess leaned forward as Eden withdrew a piece of paper and
placed it on her desk. She then blinked, and her glasses flickered like a
camera's flash going off. In the same instant scrollwork and lettering appeared
on the page. Nodding in satisfaction, Eden picked it up and handed it to Tess.

"I assume you would like to show her around?" Eden
asked as Tess read the notes.

"I would. Thank you Eden," he said, and inclined
his head in appreciation.

"Anytime," she murmured.

Hawk turned away and steered Tess toward a set of double
doors on the side wall. She glanced back once before they left and saw Eden's
piercing gaze following after them.

Tess blinked as she stepped back into the late afternoon
light. Then she followed him onto a trail. Once they had reached a shaded path
she fell into step beside Hawk. "What exactly happened back there?"

"What do you mean?" Hawk asked.

At first Tess thought he was being intentionally vague, but
then she realized he really didn't know what she was asking.

"When's the last time you tutored a student? And why
did you choose those classes for me?"

Hawk stopped in the shadow of a great oak and turned to face
her. "I've never tutored a student at this school. As to the fields of
study, I selected the ones I thought would be best for you. I hope you don't
mind."

Hawk resumed his walking, and when Tess caught up, he
continued in a subdued tone, "In truth you could have chosen any of the
subjects to start, but fire broke your binding so it should come most naturally.
Mages with multiple talents tend to have bordering abilities on the circle, and
since mind is adjacent to fire on the circle, it's likely to come easily for
you as well. Gravity and technology are both branches of mind magic, but I
chose gravity because your father was a flyer."

"And water?" Tess asked shrewdly. "I noticed
that air was between mind and water on the circle. Why didn't I take air
magic? Won't that draw attention to me?"

Hawk chuckled. "Perceptive of you." Then he seemed
to check the shadows around them. "A little," he admitted, “but not
as much as starting at the fire, mind, and air schools. The trio would indicate
a class three flyer, which if you recall . . ."

"Is rare," Tess finished for him. "So why
water then?"

Hawk's expression sent a chill down Tess's spine.

"Most energies can be used in battle," he said,
"but fire, mind, and water are considered the battle magics. I wanted to
ensure you are well prepared for when they come after you again."

She fell silent, disturbed by the implication. Was she
really in so much danger? It would seem so, or else why would Hawk want her
trained to fight? At the same time she felt a thrill of anticipation pass
through her as she thought of the day she'd met Hawk.

If the ones in the alley came for her again, she didn't want
to be helpless. Her jaw set into a firm line as she recalled the smug grin on the
leader's features. Perhaps it was best that she learn how to fight as a mage.
That way she could wipe the grin off his face if he tried again. Her thoughts
spun to a halt when she realized Hawk hadn't said if.

He'd said when.

Chapter 7: Down the Rabbit Hole

"Are you so sure they will try again?" she asked.

"I would be a fool to think otherwise," Hawk said
in an undertone. "And I would be a fool twice for assuming I'll be at your
side every time. Would you rather be placed in another course? It's not too
late to change."

"No," she said hastily, "those magics should
be . . . perfect."

He threw her a harsh look. "I don't want you searching
for trouble on your own."

"Of course not," she scoffed, and hoped she
sounded believable. That was exactly what she'd been thinking.

"If you do, everyone will know who you are. Once that
truth comes out it can't return to obscurity—and neither can you. You should do
everything you can to keep your identity a secret for as long as possible. It
will allow you to avoid becoming a target . . . before you are ready."

She nodded, and when he raised an eyebrow, she sighed,
"I promise."

Hawk bobbed his head in turn, accepting her at her word.
Then he strode through a gap in the trees and came to a halt. Tess joined him,
her eyes widening at the size of the school. In an enormous ring that spanned
two miles, twelve unique buildings stood. Each was almost immediately
identifiable for the course material taught within it.

Matching the order in the circle of magic, the building of
light stood directly to her left. Sunlight reflected off its glass spires,
illuminating the surrounding grass with beams of yellow and white. Fire stood
on the other side of it. Marked by graceful, liquid flames that traced its
surface, it stood squatter and wider than most of the others.

The building for mind magic stood next in line. Shaped like
a reaching spiral, the entire structure was supported by a quartet of statues
that held it aloft. Regal and majestic, they wore flowing purple cloaks that
rippled in the breeze.

Beyond it, a lazy tornado spun around the air building,
followed by a short castle with water flowing up its walls. Next a small
mountain was the tallest of the buildings and represented the earth school.
Barely discernible in the distance, a handful of great trees stood next to it.
In their branches large platforms were just visible.

The animal school came next. Hundreds of carved beasts
formed stone and wood walls. Grey and somewhat drab compared to the others,
Tess assumed the next building held the school for body magic. Towering statues
of men and women held its detached roof aloft. Next was the building of healing
magic, its surface pink and white. Music and sound were the last two and were
the only ones that bore some sort of resemblance. Both were u-shaped and
boasted a courtyard in the middle.

Each of the buildings of Tryton’s could have held her
previous high school three times over—and that was just from her vantage point.
Oddly, only a handful of students were walking the paths.

"Where is everyone?" she asked.

"It's customary for parents to celebrate after the
introduction speech. They aren't allowed inside the school grounds during a
quad. I assure you that it will be quite crowded by tomorrow morning."

"It's bigger than I expected," Tess said, awe
coloring her tone as she motioned to the buildings.

Hawk laughed, and then led the way onto the sunny path of
crushed white stones. "The instruction halls are in fact distinct schools,"
he said, "but all are controlled by the school directors. Students are
allowed to start here at the age of sixteen, and typically finish their
coursework by twenty.

"The schools have classes on a variety of subjects, but
their core goals are to train their respective mages on how to control their
power. Students with multiple talents have classes in multiple buildings. Aside
from the paper Eden gave you, you will be able to check your own schedule by
using your omni-glasses."

"What do you mean?" Tess asked.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Hawk said, and
pointed to the pouch containing her spectacles.

Feeling nervous, Tess withdrew the glasses and placed them
on her face. She was about to ask what to do, but a new symbol had joined those
that bordered her vision. It expanded when she looked at it, until it covered a
quarter of her sight. She recalled seeing it carved in the World Room's doors
and assumed that it must be the school's crest.

The symbol was of a large sword embedded into the bottom of
a concave triangle. On the left a phoenix lifted its wings to the upward point,
while on the right a dragon raised its spiked head. The flame from both
creatures had merged and wrapped around the sword.

The symbol dissolved into text, and she read a quick welcome
note from Director Grayson. As she finished reading the message, it changed
into a schedule of her classes. She was taken aback by how quickly it had responded
and flicked her gaze to the left, causing it to return the welcome screen.
Annoyed at the mistake, she flicked it to the right and her schedule returned.

She stared at the third on the list: Intro to Fire Magic, Fire
School. Noticing a tiny symbol of a compass, she looked at it and blinked. The
entire view shrank back to its original size. In its place, a subtle gold
filament had appeared on the glass. It seemed to hug the ground as if it were
gold dew on the grass, but below the rim of the spectacles she could see it did
not exist in reality. It unmistakably led to the fire building off to her left.

"Will it take me to the correct class?" she asked,
astonished at how easy it had been.

"From wherever you are," Hawk said.

"How do the glasses know it’s me?" she asked,
removing the spectacles and rubbing her eyes.

"They recognize your eyes. The first time you put them
on they register to you. Any glasses you put on in the future will know you.
And don't worry," he added, his tone sympathetic. "Your eyes will get
used to them."

Tess placed the glasses back into their pouch. "Where
to next?"

A part of her felt a sudden desire to laugh at the absurdity
of everything around her. The buildings, the glasses, the city itself—all of it
stood on the verge of impossibility, and yet there was no denying their
reality. That same part felt an almost giddy craving to explore her new
surroundings. She also felt a great deal of apprehension and nervousness. She could
not have said which part held more sway.

"Let's take you to your dormitory," Hawk said.

"And then?"

His lips pursed in thought. "Perhaps then you should
call your mother. You should be landing in Colorado soon."

She twitched, and realized she had forgotten about the real
world. Her mother would go ballistic if she didn't receive a phone call.
Feeling conflicted, Tess followed Hawk toward the collection of giant trees
that rested in the exact center of the school. Set a good distance from the
ring of buildings, they towered over everything except the earth building. As
they drew closer it became obvious that the trees had been shaped to support an
abundance of small cottages.

Each set of dormitories was actually formed from a trio of
separate arbors. Twisting and coiling together, they provided the support for
what could only be described as the most incredible tree house of all time. Amid
the dense foliage countless rooms graced the gigantic limbs like enormous
fruit.

Every room had been constructed of seasoned, polished
hardwood, and looked to be twice the size of her bedroom back in Virginia. Some
of the dormitories hung from branches that extended out from the core trees.
Others lay snuggled next to the trunks. All of them boasted spiral staircases
that led to their doors. As living branches that grew from the trunks, the wide
staircases wound through trees and foliage to the very top. Tess felt a knot of
fear when she saw that some of the dormitories hung well over two hundred feet
off the ground.

They walked under the lowest branches and cabins, but Hawk
didn't stop. Continuing past the base of several stairs, he came to a halt when
he reached the edge of a lake. Tess joined him, and looked up at the massive
trees circling the water.

The great tree they had passed was one of eight dormitories.
With all of them boasting rooms and staircases, they encircled a large lake.
Like blue glass, the water reflected the living dormitories on its shaded
surface.

"It's beautiful," Tess breathed.

Hawk chuckled and pointed to the ones across from them.
"The four trees on the left are for boys; the four on the right are for
the girls."

"Which did you stay in?" Tess asked.

Hawk coughed. "To be honest I never stayed here. My
training was a bit . . . different."

"What do you mean?"

He regarded her for a long moment and then said. "It's
a tale for another time. Now, let's get you settled."

He strolled onto the path that led around the lake, pointing
out things as they passed. Tess let the topic drop, but his expression was hard
to forget. Where had Hawk been trained?

"There are two meal halls and two leisure halls between
the dorms," Hawk said, gesturing to a two-story, pillared building that
stood between the first and the second girl's trees.

Then he nodded toward a larger structure that was barely visible
through the foliage. "On the eastern and western sides are the meal halls.
I am confident you will enjoy the cuisine. Be careful with your magic in the
buildings and the trees. Damaging them is frowned upon."

They passed a meal hall and came to the base of the last
girls' tree. "Just activate your glasses and they should take you to your
room. Then you should use them to call your mom. I'm sure she will be worried
about you."

"And then?" Tess asked.

Hawk shrugged. "Get unpacked and get some rest. A lot
of students will be showing up throughout the night. You will need the sleep.
From what I hear the first day is always the hardest."

"That's not reassuring," Tess said with a grunt.

Hawk laughed quietly, and then abruptly embraced her.
"Your luggage should already be there. I will see you later this week. I'm
your tutor, remember?"

Before she could respond, he turned on his heels and strode
away. Tess stood rooted in place. The hug had taken her by surprise, but had
been oddly comforting. It reminded her of her grandfather before he'd died. The
thought made her frown. If her dad wasn't her dad, it would mean that her
grandfather wasn't hers either.

She sighed and turned toward the wide spiral staircase,
feeling alone and nervous. With hesitant fingers she donned her omni-glasses.
Grateful that Hawk had allowed her to use them before, it didn't take her long
to find the compass to her room. Just as before, a gold filament threaded its
way up the staircase in front of her.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she began to
climb. She soon passed a pair of rooms on the left and right. Nestled among the
lowest branches, they boasted brass handles and numbers on their doors. This
close she could see how beautiful each room was.

Roofed with two enormous sheets of darkwood, the walls were
reddish-brown. Large branches supported them, while smaller ones grew against
and around it, anchoring it in their grip. A smaller staircase curved up to the
door. Branches as thick as her wrist formed the railings.

Taken aback by the inherit beauty, she pressed on and passed
another cabin, and then another. It didn't take her long to realize that
although the individual rooms were the same, each of them had slightly
different decorations. One had an abundance of flowers growing right from the
walls. Another had a round waterfall on its porch. Suspended like a wreath, it
fell in a perpetual circle.

She reached a junction and followed the thread that told her
to continue climbing. A few times she peeked over the side, but the density of
the foliage and the sturdiness to the stairs kept her fear at bay. After
passing another dozen cabins, she crossed a sloped bridge and then spiraled up
the adjacent trunk, where she paused to catch her breath.

By now the trunk had thinned to the width of a small car,
but the gold thread on the ground continued to tell her to climb. After passing
another handful of rooms, the thread reached an end—at the last and highest
cabin in the tree. She followed the trail and saw that the thread had encircled
the cabin, clearly marking her destination as room 313.

She followed the stairs and reached for the door, but
hesitated. Was she supposed to have a key? Should she go back down and find
someone to ask? She tried the door anyway, and found it locked. Annoyed, she
looked to the rim of her glasses for the answer. She found it in a small key
symbol on the upper-left corner. She glanced at it and heard a click.

She tried the door again and it opened at her touch. Pushing
inside, she squinted in the darkness and sought for a light switch. When she
didn't find one, she looked for the light itself. In the center of the room a
large bowl hung from the ceiling. She reached toward it and it glowed. She
froze, and then waved her hand again. It brightened in response and light flooded
the room.

Blinking at the brilliance, she found herself in a spacious,
lofty cabin with two beds. A pair of smooth, darkwood desks sat on opposite
sides of the room. Twin closets stood to the right of the entrance, and a
bathroom sat in the corner on her left. An enormous set of glass doors dominated
the back wall, allowing the waning light to enter the space.

One side of the room had already been claimed. Odd gadgets
and what looked to be glowing computer parts were organized into neat rows
across the desk, walls, and every available inch of floor on that side.

Above her roommate's bed, a frame rested on the wall, but in
place of a painting the image was more like a television. In silence, it showed
a pretty girl with purple streaks in her hair next to a statuesque woman with
matching hair. The resemblance was uncanny.

Between them, static electricity crackled as a thousand sparks
melded into an object she couldn't identify. The viewpoint gradually rotated
around the smiling mother and daughter, and when it returned to the front the
sequence began again. The painting frame opposite the occupied bed was empty.

Tess checked the bathroom and the closets first. Then she
spotted her bags at the foot of the empty bed. Sinking onto its surface, she
found the symbol on her spectacles for a phone. Activating it with a glance,
she dialed the numbers by looking at them. Unfamiliar with the system, it took
three attempts before she was able to do it correctly. Then she confirmed it
and held her breath until she heard the first ring.

"Hello?" Her mom picked up before the second ring
had expired.

"Hey Mom," Tess said, smiling at the sense of home
that flooded her.

"Jack, it's Tess!" her mother yelled, and a moment
later he linked into the call.

"Honey? Are you ok?" he asked. Even over the
phone she could hear his worry.

"I'm fine," she said, a knot rising in her throat.
"Colorado . . . is better than I could have expected."

"I'm so glad you called," her mother said, the
relief evident in her voice. "We tried your cell a few times and couldn't
get through. What number are you calling us from?"

Tess glanced at her pocket. Why had she not even considered
using her phone? "My dorm room," she replied. "There isn't much
reception here on my cell, so this is probably the better number to reach
me." It annoyed her how easily the lies came.

"Are you all settled then?" her father asked.
"Do you have your schedule and everything?"

"I do, dad. My classes actually sound exciting." At
least that part was true.

"Are you safe?" he asked.

"I can take care of myself, Dad. You taught me that.
And don't worry, I have my pepper spray with me."

Her father grunted in acknowledgement. Then her mother said,
"You promised to call us as often as you can, remember?"

It sounded like her mom was bursting to ask more, but Tess
didn't feel up to lying. "I will, Mom. I promise. Can I talk to you
tomorrow?"

"Um . . . okay honey. I love you," her mother
said, and her dad echoed the statement.

Tess hated the reluctance she heard in her parent's voices. "I
love you too. I will call you when I can."

They said their goodbyes and Tess ended the call. Releasing
a long sigh, she took off the glasses and discarded them on her bed.  After
staring at her roommate’s things for a while she rose to her feet. She strode
to the back of the room and opened the double doors. Stepping through them, she
found herself on a wide, covered balcony. Cautiously she stepped onto it, and then
forced herself to go to the railing and look down.

This high in the tree the branches were not as dense,
allowing for a large opening around the back of her cabin. The result was a
clear view all the way to the lake two hundred feet below. Lights from a few of
the other rooms twinkled from inside the foliage. The lake itself was
illuminated by the meal halls. By the activity coming from them, it seemed they
were preparing for tomorrow.

She shuddered at the height, and turned her gaze to the last
vestiges of light from the setting sun. In minutes it sank below the ring of
clouds that protected the city. She watched until long after her balcony had
fallen into darkness.

"What have I gotten myself into?" she
whispered.

Chapter 8: The Guildmaster

Hawk watched Tess go with a twinge of regret. Although he wasn't
related to her, he felt an almost paternal desire to protect her. He'd guarded
her for her entire life, and even closer in the last few months. Part of him
wished she'd asked more about her parents, but he also feared giving her the
answers. It seemed she thought her parents were dead—or she didn't believe him. Either way it was an
assumption that he was grateful for, even if he felt guilty for withholding the
truth. Was he guiding her correctly? Or would she be crushed between two sides
of a world she did not know?

He sighed and turned away. Instead of returning north he
headed east, and strode through the trees toward the gravity building. He
paused at the corner and checked to make sure no one was following him. Then he
slid up the side of the structure to the great field where flyers learned their
craft.

Wide and empty, the field was boxed in by twin rows of
trees. A low wall rested at the opposite end. He followed the south row of
trees, hugging the shadows as he worked his way to the barrier that blocked anyone
from inadvertently falling off the edge of the city.

Again he paused to check for anyone in sight. There was
always the possibility that a techno mage was watching him, but he knew that no
person was. He scanned for spots of heat that would indicate a body. Seeing no
one, he jumped to the top of the wall. With a deft twist he swung himself over.

In five seconds he was approaching terminal velocity. A few
seconds later he burst free of the cloudwall and the air cleared. He glanced up
as he fell and wondered when the world had become so complicated. A long time
ago it had seemed so easy. Then technology had developed like a weed—among the mages and the
aurens.

In the span of a decade techno mages had gone from unknown
to essential. Their quirks and habits were quickly overlooked in favor of what
they could do. As much as the gravity mages had done lifting Auroraq into the
sky, it was the techno mages that had truly made it possible. He sighed, and
felt the loss of simpler times.

The wind screamed and whipped his clothing to the point of
tearing, but he'd already begun to change shape. He shuddered as his bones
shifted and grew, and his organs squished into different positions. A feather
pattern appeared on his arms, and then they melted into massive wings. His
boots and feet faded into great claws, and his body formed into that of a
gigantic bird.

His clothing changed with him, and he felt a flash of
gratitude that he'd spent the time practicing that trick. It may have taken him
decades, but it was worth it. Last to go, his cloak faded into his feathered
back, and his skull formed a hooked beak and piercing eyes. Fully transformed,
Hawk banked out of his fall and curved east.

He soared through the night, enjoying the rush of cool air.
The clouds were thin below him, offering a relatively uninterrupted view of the
landscape far below. Lights dotted the central United States, but were
congregated at the cities. He wondered how the aurens would respond if they
ever saw him.

He had the cover of night, but he had a good distance to go
before morning. Steering clear of the commercial flight paths, he flew east.
North America gradually slid by, until it ended at the Atlantic Ocean. The
cloud cover thickened as he flew over a storm. Taking advantage of the
obscurity, he poured more magic into his flight.

Tongues of fire blossomed behind him, causing him to
accelerate. Two planes crossed his path in the next few hours, forcing him to
extinguish the fire and duck into the clouds. In spite of the delays, he
spotted the shores of Ireland sometime around two in the morning. Shifting
south, he passed around it until he could see England. Then he followed the
southern shore until a stretch of white cliffs came into view.

Seeing his destination, he released his spell and folded his
wings. Wind billowed past him, but he didn't pull out of his dive until just
before the water's surface. Banking toward the cliff, he flew through the salty
spray coming off the waves. His keen eyes scanned for watercraft, but he wasn't
too worried due the hour of his approach.

He saw no one, so he angled his path toward the cliffs. A
wing length from it he banked straight up. The cliff glided by, slowing as his
direction sapped his speed. When the top came into view he began to shift. His
momentum slowed further as he lost his wings. He'd angled his ascent well, and
like a feather on the breeze he sailed over the top in full human form.

He landed in a crouch on level ground. Feigning indifference
in case he'd been spotted, he strolled toward the road a short distance away. Withdrawing
a small object from his pocket, he tapped it twice and then tossed it onto the
dark street. The item clattered to a stop—and
then began to grow. It swelled and expanded like a balloon, stretching and
widening. Tires and doors appeared first, then the seats and an engine. Then a
gleaming roof and hood solidified into place. A moment later a sleek, fire red
BMW Z4 sat on the road.

Hawk stepped into the driver's seat and flooded the engine
with his magic. Custom built, it revved loud in response to his touch. He
smiled to himself, and then flicked the lights before stomping on the
accelerator.

The car peeled away and pierced the darkness. Five minutes
later Hawk was traveling much faster than the speed limit. Dodging the lighter
traffic, he slowed when he neared London. Even at three in the morning there
was still plenty of movement on the streets. An hour later he parked in an
alley in south London, and ran his finger along the steering wheel as he
exited. With the sound of a creaky door closing, it shrank to its former size.
Hawk collected the tiny metal car and returned it to his pocket. Then he exited
the alley and walked into the slums nearby.

Hawk strode down the street, crinkling his nose at the
smell. This part of London was old, and renowned for its criminal activity. No
less than three times in the next thirty minutes he was assaulted. A stare
turned away the first two. He melted the knife of the third and the kid bolted.

He frowned to himself. Why had Reese wanted to meet in such
a locale? If he wasn't their sole contact with the Harbingers, Hawk would have
argued the location. As it was, he couldn't afford to lose this link. It had taken
five years to find and cultivate him as an informant. Not that the Guild hadn't
tried to turn others, but they had all ended up dead before Hawk could get any
real information.

He hoped this time would result in some credible insight
into their foe. He knew that the organization had existed for centuries, but twenty
years ago there had been a shift in leadership. In the span of a month all of
Hawk's informants had evaporated. Only two of the bodies had been discovered,
and the aurens had labeled them as suicides.

Some in the Guild had warned this meeting could be a trap.
Hawk had been quick to outwardly dismiss that notion. In his gut he knew it was
likely, which was why he was going himself. He wouldn't risk anyone else.
Besides, if he allowed the Harbingers to think they had caught him he might be
able to glean some information. He had no doubt the true leader would not be
present, but people tended to let information slip when they gloated.

He took the last turn and followed a dirty alley until it
ended in a darkened courtyard. He paused to scan the circle of buildings. Three
of them looked abandoned. The fourth appeared to be an empty warehouse. Lit by
a pair of old streetlamps, the cracked concrete square reeked of rust and
decay.

Hawk resumed his pace and came to a stop at the center.
After a moment Reese dodged out of the shadows and came to meet him, his arm
twitching in nervousness. On anyone else it would have been a sure sign of
something off, but on Reese it was the norm. Short and skinny, Reese was a
low-level animal mage with a talent for rats. Hawk privately thought the
ability was indicative.

"I didn't expect you," Reese whined. "I
thought James was coming."

Hawk shrugged. James was a sound and light mage that worked for
the Magical Transportation Agency. He was also one of Hawk's lieutenants, and
the normal contact for Reese.

"What do you have for me," Hawk said.

Reese's eyes twitched to the side. "Do you have the marks?"

"Information first, Reese. You know our rules."

Reese shifted and scratched his shoulder. "I just
didn't expect you to be here."

"You act like it’s the first time we've met. Now, are
you going to tell me what I want to know?"

Reese wheezed a laugh, but it sounded forced and off-key,
even for him. His eyes slid off Hawk's face, betraying fear. The look could
have been nothing, but the flash of anticipation was unmistakable.

On instinct Hawk spun and brought a wall of fire up.
Deflected by the blast, a rod of steel ricocheted aside, and plunged into the ground
a few inches from Hawk's foot. The crunch of its impact resounded loud and
hollow in the square. Then the figures began to appear.

A hooded man rose into view in a window, and then another,
and then three more. A handful appeared on the roofs, and more than a dozen
stepped out of the alleys, clogging every point of egress. Collectively they
came to a halt.

Hawk sighed and turned to Reese, but he'd already scurried
away. In his place a tall hooded figure stepped from the crowd. Apparently wary
of Hawk, he remained close to his companions.

"We know who you are, Hawk."

Hawk felt a flash of fear. If they knew his secret they
could do incalculable damage. Then the figure continued.

"You are the Guildmaster of a group that has outlived
its purpose."

Hawk gave a low chuckle of relief. The sound merely served
to amplify the tension in the courtyard. They only knew that he led the Guild,
which wasn't anything that Hawk considered vital.

"We protect the peace between aurens and mages,"
Hawk replied. "Is that role so obsolete?"

He gave a bark of scornful laughter. "Mages are more
powerful in every way. Why should we hide in the shadows when we can do so much
more? Wars, famine, even disasters could be prevented if we—ˮ

"Conquered them?" Hawk asked. "So that is your
design."

The voice was young, more like a teenager than an adult.
Perhaps if Hawk kept him talking he would betray more of himself.

The figure bared his teeth in a snarl. "It does not
matter what I tell you now. You will be dead by the time the sun rises."

"How would you manage to conquer them?" Hawk’s
voice was riddled with scorn. "We may be powerful, but so are the aurens
now. We would need an army to do as you suggest."

The figure began to laugh, deep and taunting. "Perhaps
we will have one, Hawk."

He then dismissed him with a wave, and in the movement Hawk
caught something he'd missed before. The figure bore a scar across the palm.
Odd for a mage to bear a permanent scar, for a healer could usually repair the
skin in time. And yet the mark was undeniably made by fire. Hawk stiffened as a
thought crossed his mind. The scar was as if a powerful firewall had erupted
when he'd reached forward . . .

Anger blossomed across Hawk's frame and fire burst onto his
forearms in response. "You would have taken her."

The figure smirked. "We know who she is, too. And next
time, we will not fail." He gave a signal to his surrounding forces and
then jumped into the air. As he flew past the roof he called down. "Make
sure the Guild can't find his body."

Hawk didn't hesitate. In his true form he could have leveled
the entire neighborhood, but he couldn't risk someone seeing him—not now. But
just because he couldn't access his full power didn't mean he was powerless.

Magic blossomed in the hands of his attackers, but Hawk was
quicker. Clenching his fists together at his gut, he gathered power on his
knuckles. Then he ripped his hands apart. A sphere of white fire exploded
around him. Two feet thick and ten feet high, it roiled and pressed, boosting
the heat into the hotter blue spectrum. Fireballs, water spears, and other
spells failed to pierce it. Each was burnt to a crisp on the attempt.

For a few heartbeats Hawk watched the ineffectual attempts
to slay him. It was a rare opportunity to evaluate his enemy's strength. What
he saw caused him to frown. The fireballs being cast were large and orange,
suggesting very talented mages, as did the streams of water, which lanced
across his fire-shield like fire hoses. They burst into steam at the contact.
And the gravity mages were equally as strong.

One launched an entire dumpster at him. It deflected off at
an angle, its metal glowing red hot as the bottom corner melted. Another pulled
the streetlamp out and tried to hit him—concrete base and all. It too melted in
half. Hawk blew out his breath in frustration. If this was the best the Harbingers
had in their ranks, it was bad. But the ambush had not been intended for him.

It had been intended for James.

Powerful in his own right, his lieutenant would have been
killed in seconds from such an onslaught. A long-buried fury suddenly bubbled
inside Hawk. James was a good friend, as were several of the others who had
been killed by the Harbingers.

Gathering every ounce of heat from the courtyard, he punched
his fists together, and the ball of fire detonated into a firestorm. Windows
shattered as the blast slammed into the buildings with brutal force. The wave
of flame followed, causing bricks to crack and melt as the square was engulfed
in heat. The Harbingers dived for cover, but many weren't quick enough. Shrieks
filled the courtyard as they were engulfed in flames.

Harbingers on all sides screamed for help. Water mages fought
to douse themselves as fire mages tried to pull the heat from their bodies.
Both were having difficulty due to the intensity of Hawk's spell. The gravity
mages were bellowing in pain, unable to end their own torment.

Hawk felt a twinge of regret—but not for what he'd
inflicted. He wanted to fight them. After the atrocities they had committed
they deserved nothing less. Abruptly Hawk was overcome by the murderous rage of
his true self. These petty men had killed, tortured, and sought to harm the
oracle's descendent. They had sought to destroy the peace of Lumineia that he
had sworn to protect.

They deserved to fear.

Hawk issued his true war-cry, and the scream split the air
with bone rattling intensity. It pierced the fire and struck his enemy, sending
them trembling into huddled groups, the fire consuming their flesh momentarily
forgotten. Then their courage failed them and they sought to flee.

Tumbling over each other in their effort to run, they
ignored the fires that licked at their clothing. Hawk took a step in pursuit,
ready to hunt them down and slaughter them . . . just as they had killed other
good men and women. He had been too late to prevent that, and so he would kill each
and every one of them—

Then he saw Reese's face. Horrorstruck, the man sat with his
back to the wall, frozen in absolute terror. The sight caused Hawk to recall
his purpose. He growled at how much he'd revealed of himself. His throat
tightened and his anger evaporated. He strode to the man's side and killed the
fire scorching his clothing.

"Who is your master?" Hawk demanded.

Reese flinched at his words and tried to push himself away,
but there was nowhere to go. "What are you?"

Hawk grabbed his arm and forced the weasely man to face him.
"Who leads the Harbingers!"

Reese wilted in the face of Hawk's words. "I'll tell .
. . I'll tell, just don't do that again. His name—ˮ

Hawk heard the attack and spun to the side. A ball of fire
streaked from his palms, but missed the blade by inches. Instead it curved past
Hawk's body. A dull thud resounded in the square, and Hawk turned to see Reese
fighting for breath, a blade sunk into his chest.

Hawk raised his gaze to the assassin, and saw the one with
the mark standing on the roof. His hood obscured his features, but his lips
were tight with fury. Hawk got some measure of satisfaction that the smug smile
was gone. Then the man launched himself into the night sky. Alone, Hawk turned
to Reese and heard him cough his final words.

". . . on the council. He's chancellor . . ."

He struggled to finish the statement, his eyes wide in fear
and pain. Then his body quivered and went still. Hawk suppressed the surge of
hate and anger. Then he crouched and closed his informant’s eyes. Taking solace
in what he'd learned from the battle, he did his best to set aside his emotions.
He turned to leave with regret heavy in his heart, and trudged through the
scattered flames.

But regret couldn't alter his actions, so he sighed and
slipped from the square. As he left through the alley he'd entered from, he
extinguished the fires that were climbing the buildings. Steam, debris, and
bodies littered the courtyard as he disappeared into the streets of London.

Auren sirens sounded as he escaped into the night.

Chapter 9: Iris

Tess awoke to find her roommate's face an inch from her own.
Startled, she jerked to a sitting position as the girl withdrew.

"I didn't expect a roommate," the girl said, her
eyes wide with excitement. "When did you get here?"

Tess stared at her, robbed of speech. The girl was trim, but
not overly skinny, and was dressed in a combination of black, grey, and bright,
vibrant purple. At one time the shirt had probably been a regular black
t-shirt, and the jeans would have been fashionable. Overlaid on the normal
clothing, a stunning purple swirled and spiked through the fabric, glowing
every time she turned her head. Matching the clothing, her dark hair was also
streaked with purple. Then there was the jacket.

It looked to be made of leather, but the black was more
muted. The sleeves had been ripped off too, revealing her shirtsleeves and
tanned arms. Complicated patterns of purple faded in and out of the dark
material, shimmering into view and fading just as quickly. In any other setting
Tess would have expected spiked hair, tattoos, and piercings. Instead her skin
was clear, and her hair would have fit on an advertisement for shampoo.

Realizing she was staring, Tess blinked. "Last
night," Tess said.

"My name's Iris," the girl said, and darted to her
own bed. "I'm a techno mag."

Tess opened her mouth to respond, but Iris turned her head
to the side and scowled.

"No, Jesse, I told you not to switch the laz with the
coreless. It'll just mess you up."

"Er . . ." Tess said, but Iris had already turned
back to her.

"Hungry? I'm hungry. Let's go eat!" Bounding off
her bed, Iris arrived at the door and whirled. "You should get dressed
first, though."

Stunned to silence, Tess changed while Iris spoke to a
variety of different people. More often than not, she seemed to be scolding
them.

"Is that you?" Tess asked. She pointed to the
image on the wall above Iris's bed. The girl in her room was an older version
of the child in the painting.

"Yes," Iris said, and skipped to her bed.
"It's one of my favorite memories of my mom." She frowned, her eyes
flicking to the empty painting above Tess's bed. "You can pick any memory
you want to put in it, just make sure—Tong, I swear I will fry your system if
you don't stop playing Halo. Yes, I know it's addictive—but that's no excuse."

Iris faced her desk and chewed out Tong for not paying
attention.  After a few seconds her gaze jerked back to Tess.

"Ready?" Iris asked.

Tess was still in the process of lacing her shoes, but she
nodded, and Iris darted through the door. Hurrying to catch up, Tess tried to
understand who Iris was talking to. By the time she reached the ground she'd
overcome her surprise enough to be annoyed.

"Who are you talking to?" she asked. If Iris
noticed the irritation in her voice, she gave no sign.

"My class, a professor, a few others," she said
blithely. Then she looked away and sighed in exasperation. "Stop watching
YouTube Malik, you're not paying attention either."

Unsure of what else to do, Tess followed Iris to the meal
hall. On the way, she began to notice how many people had arrived throughout
the night. Hundreds of teenagers strode through the paths, greeting each other
and talking. Whereas the day before Tess had thought of the place as quiet and
empty, it was now full and loud. The noise outside was nothing compared to the
meal hall.

Her eyes widened as she entered the space. From the outside
it had appeared to be one story, but upon entry it became obvious that it was
partially underground and fashioned like a giant log cabin. The two girls stood
on a balcony that wrapped around the room. Visible below them, curving trees grew
straight from the floor to form tables and chairs. Students in varying stages
of breakfast were talking and laughing.

Tess jumped when another girl strode to the edge of the
balcony and leapt over the railing. She floated down with effortless grace and
landed near the center, where students were filling their plates next to a
collection of steaming cauldrons.

"Flyers." Iris blew out her breath. "What I
wouldn't give to be one." Then she flashed Tess a look. "Except my
magic. I mean, who would give up being a techno mag?"

Iris laughed at the absurdity of that idea and led the way
to the bottom floor. She strode to a collection of smaller pots and selected a
single cube from several of them. She mumbled under her breath as she did.

"Ah, let's see. French toast for sure, maybe some
raspberries and whipped cream to top them? Of course! Oh, and let's go with
bacon, and a side of raspberry bread toast." Iris threw a look back at
Tess with a conspiratorial grin. "I love the raspberry bread. You should
try it."

Taking her cue from her, Tess chose the same meal and placed
the small, soft cubes onto a plate. She then followed Iris to the steaming
cauldrons. This close she saw the cauldrons bore twin slits on opposite sides.
A small shelf protruded from below the opening, allowing Iris to place her
plate onto it.

The cauldron sucked her plate in as she let go, and an
instant later it ejected it out the opposite side—with the meal Iris had
ordered on it. The heat of her French toast was already beginning to melt the
whipped cream, and the raspberries looked as fresh as if they had been picked
an hour ago.

Tess did the same, and jerked her hand back as the plate was
sucked through the cauldron. Collecting the savory plate that appeared, she
followed Iris toward a grouping of empty seats. She nodded to those that made
eye contact with her, but paused to watch one wall spontaneously expand
outward, giving more room to the students seeking chairs.

Of their own accord, trees grew from the new floor. Their
trunks bent and flattened, forming tables and chairs. A woman wearing a green
cloak and an eight-sided knot strolled through the room, making finishing
touches even as students took advantage of the additional space.

"Coming?" Iris asked, pulling Tess from her
astonishment.

Tess blinked and shook her head, and tried not to stare at
the side room that had not been there before. In an effort to focus, she
instead looked at the hundreds of students talking, laughing, and eating. In
her previous school, Tess had at least understood the normal cliques—even if she had never really
belonged to them. Here it seemed the regular rules of high school did not
apply.

Knots of students conversed easily, and light-hearted banter
appeared to be the norm. Despite the number of students, the environment
reminded her of members of a team, united in friendship and purpose. Many wore
apprentice knots for their colors, but their type of magic didn't seem to cause
barriers. Rather it resulted in nothing more than casual teasing. If there were
outcasts among the social groups they had yet to arrive.

Her gaze on the milling students, Tess joined Iris at a side
table and sat in a surprisingly comfortable seat. Before she'd taken her first
bite another person joined them, and sank onto a bench across from her. "Sis,
who's the newcomer?" he asked.

"New roommate," Iris said brightly. "She
doesn't talk much." Then she turned to the wall and laughed as if someone
had just told a joke.

"I'm Derek," he said. He offered his hand and a
look of sympathy. "She didn't let you talk, did she?"

Tess laughed and shook her head, privately labeling him a
decent guy. He was trim in his build, but not scrawny, and would probably stand
a few inches taller than her. Tousled brown hair on most boys would have seemed
unruly, but on him gave the impression of self-assurance. The coloring
certainly matched his eyes.

"Is she always like this?" Tess said in an aside.

He grinned and nodded. "Ever since I can remember. We
dropped her stuff off a few days ago and then I took her on a tour of the city.
Sorry if she woke you. We got in pretty late."

"So it's not your first year?"

He jerked his head in the negative, and answered through a
mouthful of potatoes. "Second year," he said, and then swallowed.
"Fourth quad. I'm an earth and stone mag, you?"

"Fire, gravity, and water," Tess said. She took a
bite of her food, and almost missed his reply because of its flavor. Iris had
been right, the raspberry bread was delicious.

"A split tri-mag?" he said, arching an eyebrow.
"Interesting. That's not very common. Auren or mage born?"

She was saved from answering by Iris's pealing laughter.
"Wrong side of the mind, huh. Too bad, but at least you can fly down to
meals when you learn." Then she frowned. "I could have sworn I put
one there." She slapped the wall, and then resumed eating as if nothing
had occurred.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Don't ask me why she does that.
I have no idea."

"What does she mean, wrong side of the mind?"

"Gravity and technology are both branches of mind
magic," he said. "but you never find someone who can do both. I've
heard a variety of theories, but most just say they operate from different
sides of the brain." He shrugged. "If you ask me, flying is the
better of the two."

"As if!" Iris scoffed, and then her eyes glazed.
"Drat it all, I'm late again. I'll catch up with you guys later. See you
at lunch, Tess?"

For the first time it seemed Iris was relatively normal.
With her eyes open and questioning, she sat waiting for an answer. Tess didn't
have the heart to say no. As her roommate walked away Tess sighed, but decided
it could have been worse.

"She's actually really nice," Derek said, his
voice apologetic. "If you can get her to focus. It's one of the down sides
of being a techno mag."

In that moment Tess realized that Iris had not worn glasses
the entire time. Turning to Derek, she said, "Techno mages don't use the
spectacles?"

He shook his head. "They don't need 'em. With their
magesight, they can see every live signal in the air. It's why they are so
distracted all the time." He pointed to an overweight boy that was
shoveling food into his mouth while his eyes stared in space, glazed and
lifeless. "More often than not they end up sucked into video games or
watching TV. It takes discipline for them to pay attention to anything else."

"At least Iris doesn't do that," Tess said.

His expression lightened. "True—and she's a genius. She's starting her first
quad with you, but she has already been asked to assist one of the professors
with a project. She also teaches classes for younger students from all over the
world. I can only imagine how good she will be by the time she graduates."

"Do we really take classes year-round?" she asked.
"There's no summer break?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Twelve weeks to each quad, and
a one week recess between them. Mid-term is the only holiday. We get Friday and
Monday off for a long weekend."

"Isn't that excessive?"

He shrugged. "You can always request to be excused from
a quad if you want, but I don't know anyone who ever has. Most students want
to learn their magic." He flashed a crooked grin. "The basic courses
like Magical History and Remedial Magic are another story. Everyone fights to
get out of those."

He swallowed his last bite and gestured to her plate.
"Finished? We should hurry or we will be late to class, and the teachers
are brutal with tardiness."

His expression was sufficient for her to hurry. She downed
the last few morsels in a rush, unwilling to leave anything on the plate. Then
she rose and followed Derek to the rear of the room. A trio of blue cauldrons
stood, the scent of steam and soap coming from them.

"We have to do our own dishes," Derek said with a
laugh, and pushed his plate into the slot of one of them. A blast of water
sounded, followed by the clean plate clattering out the opposite side. He
placed it on the stack of others and waited for her to do the same.

"Does it ever get old?" Tess asked as they walked
up the stairs and outside. "I mean, all of this . . ."

He laughed lightly, and said, "I guess it becomes
normal at some point. Iris and I are mage born, but the stuff they have here is
incredible. It took us twice as long to do the dishes growing up." His
eyes twinkled, and Tess was grateful for how easy the crooked grin blossomed on
his face.

He turned to leave, but stopped and called over his
shoulder. "Good luck with your first classes, Tess. I will see you at
lunch. I'd walk you—but
then I would be late . . ."

"And I hear the teachers are brutal with
tardiness," Tess said with a smile.

Derek laughed and strolled away. Tess watched him go with a
twinge of regret. It would have been nice to have a friend in one of her
classes.

With a sigh she donned her spectacles and activated the
thread that would take her to her first class. Exiting the dormitories, she
strode through the morning light toward the general magic building. Although
she wanted to meet other mages, a sense of nervousness stilled her tongue as
she walked through pockets of other students.

Largely ignored, she retraced her path from the previous
night, and walked past the light school and Star Hall. Then she continued toward
the building that stood opposite the World Room. Although it was identical to
the World Room on the exterior, the interior couldn't have been more different.

A center corridor led straight through the building. Glass
walls stood on either side, allowing for an uninterrupted view of the mini-amphitheatres
behind them. Students filled the seats, and professors were beginning their
lectures in some.

Tess's path took her to the third door on the right.
Stepping through the opening, she descended the slope and took a seat halfway
down the enormous classroom. The room was sparsely furnished, but its walls
showed symbols and runes. When she entered it was almost full, but a few
stragglers found seats until the professor appeared through a rear door.
Stepping to a large podium, he addressed the group.

"As it will show on your glasses, I am Professor
Seibold. Welcome to Remedial Magic. This course will give you an introduction
to the magic world and help you understand the basic laws that apply to
magekind and magic in general. For those of you who know more about the mage
world some of this will be obvious, but not all. Just know that you can sleep
as much as you want in this class—but if you fail, you will have to take it
again on your next quad. I once had a student for a year and half. Let's hope
none of you follow in his erroneous footsteps."

The students shifted uncomfortably but no one responded. The
man was older, and boasted a well trimmed, white goatee. His hair matched, but
his face was not as wrinkled as Tess would have expected. As she'd come to
think of as the required clothing for faculty, his attire included a cloak
around his thin shoulders. Dark blue and long, it nearly touched the floor. His
gaze was piercing through his glasses, and for some reason it reminded Tess of
her mother.

"Now," Professor Seibold began, pacing to the
side. "We'll start with some basics. I recommend you activate the note
taking charm of your omni-glasses or you may struggle with the first
test."

There was a flurry as everyone donned their glasses. Since
hers were already on, Tess searched the symbols at the side of her vision. It
didn't take her long to find her class screen, and see the tiny pencil on paper
symbol. She stared at it, and it brightened. Blossoming into shape, it moved to
the side and appeared to float a few feet away, far enough in her peripheral
that it didn't distract from focusing on the professor.

After helping those less familiar with the spectacles, the
Professor returned to the front. "Now, to some basics." (Out of the
corner of her eye Tess saw the pencil begin to write on the translucent paper.)
"Since you are all auren born or raised, the first thing you should know
is that this academy is not like a normal high school or college. Students are
allowed to progress—or digress—according to their own merit.

"At the middle and end of every quad you will be
tested. If you can demonstrate an advanced level of understanding—and
skill—then you will be elevated to a higher level course. Conversely, if you
cannot display a working knowledge of the course you are in, you will be placed
in a lower level class. Being dropped from the lowest is known as 'bombing,'
and means you will have to wait until the next quad to repeat. You—and you alone—are responsible for your
rise . . . or fall, here at Tryton’s."

His gaze swept the room, and again the students shifted. On
impulse, Tess raised her hand. The professor seemed surprised, but acquiesced
with a nod.

"Can one advance enough to jump years?"

Professor Seibold's lips twitched like he wanted to smile,
but he held it in check. "Of course, Miss Oliver. Proficiency is the only
requirement to continue."

She jerked as he called her name, but then realized that his
glasses probably showed a great deal more than hers did. The professor then
smiled.

"Those more diligent will progress much faster than
their peers. I have even seen someone finish four years in one, and he is now
the youngest member to hold a place on the high council."

"It must be Chancellor Gerik," someone
nearby whispered.

The professor moved on from the interruption, and began to
tell about the three parts of magic. Just as Hawk had explained, he described
sight, force, and control, but went into greater detail on each. On more than
one occasion he referred to the midterm exam. Each time Tess checked to see if
her note taker was doing its job.

Professor Seibold then went on to explain the circle of
magic, and erected an energy display showing the twelve types of magic. Last he
explained the unknowable magics. Anti-magic, lightning, and memory were the
three magics that did not fit into the common fields, and comprised the
thirteenth and final school at Tryton’s.

Throughout it all Tess paid close attention, excited to
finally understand more about the world she had entered. By the end she was
actually looking forward to reading the assigned course material. Professor
Seibold dismissed them with an assignment to write a three-page essay detailing
all the mage schools and their purposes. Her excitement tempered by the
homework, Tess exited to find Iris standing in the hall.

"Done with Remedial?" she asked. "Good, I
just finished Basics of Earth Study. Did you know that they are still making
clothing by hand?"

Iris seemed so appalled that Tess laughed. "What do you
have next?"

"Mage Tech level 3. You want to go together? If you've
got fire we should be in neighboring buildings—or if you have gravity we'll be
in the same one."

Without waiting for a response Iris burst out laughing and
told someone named Adela that she shouldn't tell such stories. Then her eyes
reconnected with Tess's. "You said yes, right? Good, let's go."

Tess walked with Iris, grateful that she had a friend, of
sorts. She activated her glasses only long enough to see that she was headed
for the Mind School. When she shared this with Iris her roommate nearly jumped
out of her skin.

"That means three times a week we can walk to class
together. You know that classes are on alternating days right? So one week we
will walk together three days—and the next it will be two. What am I saying, of
course you know that."

Iris's excitement was contagions, so by the time Tess
arrived at the mind building she was grinning. This close she was able to see
that the statues were not actually holding the building aloft. Instead, purple
light poured from their hands and fed the magical foundation. Strands of faint
purple light filled the gap that separated the base of the school with the
ground, and apparently was the sole support to the structure. Extending out
from it, the magic formed stairs of solid purple light.

They separated at the top of the stairs and Tess activated
her compass. Following it to the rear of the building, she went to the
designated room and found a seat. The classroom quickly filled with people
talking in hushed, excited tones. Tess felt the anticipation begin to build,
her heart pounding as she waited for the professor.

A moment later he flew through the open window.

Chapter 10: The Captain

He flew into a forward flip and came out of it walking on
the floor. Silence resounded in the room, and then applause burst out. Tess
joined in. It was the first time she had seen someone fly up close, and it
sparked a yearning to do the same.

"Welcome to Gravity Magic Level 1. My name is
Drake," he said, "and I will be assisting Professor Lerik in teaching
this course."

As Drake spoke his lips pulled into a confident grin. Tall
and lean, he wore snug slacks, a button-up shirt that clung to his torso, and a
cloak. Dark gauntlets covered his forearms and extended over his hands, leaving
his fingers free. His jet-black hair was cut short and stylish. At odds with
the color of his hair, his eyes were a startling blue, like a summer sky
without a hint of a storm. His features were angular and sharp, enhancing the
darker tone to his skin.

Tess overheard a girl beside her whisper that he was the
captain of the Tempest team. The girl practically swooned as she expressed her
wishes regarding him. Tess felt a flash of irritation at her comment. There was
no denying he was attractive—and tall—and dark— and attractive—but she doubted
he deserved such adulation.

Drake shushed the applause with an indulgent wave. "I
am sure you are all excited to begin your initial testing, so I won't waste
time talking about the wonders of flight."

A girl in the front row raised her hand, and he nodded to
her.

"Will you tell us about Tempest, Captain?" she
asked. Her tone was breathless, as if she were already hanging on the words he
had yet to speak.

"Perhaps later in the course. We should get going . .
."

A smattering of protests erupted from the girls in the room.
Tess folded her arms at the noise, fighting to quell her rising interest. And
why did her neck feel so warm?

He pursed his lips, but not in annoyance. The tension built
until he relented with a sigh. "I will share one thing today. Then we get
started."

A smattering of giggles and sighs filled the room,
accompanied by the veiled scowls from the males. Ignoring them, Drake swept his
hands wide. "Can anyone tell me the purpose of the gauntlets I wear?"

The gauntlets were fashioned of a supple, black material.
Faint red lines crisscrossed their surface like subtle lightning. Tess would
have thought they were just for show, but nearly every girl's hand shot into
the air at the question. Drake called on a girl from the second row.

"As a class two flyer, fire increases your mobility and
gives you attack power in the game. The gauntlets are also easier to attach
flame spells to."

The girl rattled the answer off like a baseball statistic,
and the girls around her glared at her success.

Drake smiled at the answer. "Correct. Are you a fire
mage?"

She nodded, a trace of smugness on her features. The other
girls glared at her. Tess suppressed the urge to raise her hand and announce
that she too was a fire mage.

"Perhaps you will fly with me sometime," Drake
said, eliciting another round of sighs. Then he turned to the whole class.
"As the fire mages will learn, heat works best when there is something to
attach it to. It is possible to craft gauntlets out of pure flame on your bare
skin, but it takes an extremely talented mage to do so."

"Which you aren't," a boy close to Tess muttered.
Drake went on as if he hadn't heard it.

"Mine allow me to summon flame and gather it here with
much less focus. It is one of the best assets for a player—that's legal anyway."
Fire blossomed across his gauntlets as he demonstrated. Collecting onto the
black material, the fire curled and sparked with controlled power.

"Why does he wear them outside of the game?"
a boy whispered to another.

"Because he likes the attention," the
second replied, causing the first to snicker. Unfortunately the reply was a
fraction too loud.

Drake's eyes zeroed in on him as the flames evaporated on
his arms. The boy shifted in his seat. Tess blinked as she realized he was the
same boy from the train, the one that said he was going to be a flyer. Marcus,
was it?

Drake gave a tiny shake of his head at the boy, but the glint
of danger in his eyes was more like a threat. It was enough of a warning that
Marcus swallowed and nodded. Tess was impressed at the interplay. A single look
had elicited an unspoken apology.

Without a word Drake turned and strode briskly to the only
decoration in the room. Ten stands stood against the wall, with descending
sizes of stones resting on each of them. The biggest looked like a boulder next
to the others.

Coming to a halt next to the largest, Drake began,
"Before you can learn to fly, you must first learn gravity magic. It
involves two steps, seeing the power that binds something to the earth, and
bending it to your will. When done properly, the lines of gravity will warp
around an object—such as one of these stones, and it will rise into the air.

"The more advanced you become, the more you will be
able to redirect gravity in any direction, essentially pulling an object—or
yourself—where you want. Now, how many of you have already had a class with a
practicum?" About half the students raised their hands. "Excellent.
For those who haven't yet, let me explain about your magesight.

"Magesight is what allows you to see the energy
within an object. Fire mages, such as me, can see the energy within heat. Water
mages can see the energy inherent in water, and so on. Anything that you are
not skilled in will appear in shades of gray. Purple is the color of mind
energy, which includes technology and gravity. The more you practice, the
brighter the color will become, until you are able to see the power of the
earth under your feet."

Again the muffled giggles and swallows filled the room,
causing Drake to smile.

"Now," he continued, "Today we will start
with a testing to see where you are, but don't worry. I've seen students go
from the smallest weight," he gestured to the pebble on the end, "to
the largest in a single quad. Others start half way and take a year to lift the
two-hundred pound weight."

He laughed and slapped the stone that stood next to him. It
rose into the air at his touch. Then it began to spin lazily around his body.
Drake continued as if he didn't notice the huge rock floating around him—or the
gasps from the stunned students.

"To pass this course you must raise this stone, and as
I said, it can take a while. Once we establish your skill level, then I can
begin teaching you how to improve your ability. I know Professor Lerik prefers
to have you review the theory extensively before you try to apply it. She also
lets you start with the one-pound weight before attempting anything larger. I,
however, like a more . . . aggressive approach."

"How do we know that is really two hundred
pounds?" Marcus's friend demanded, jutting his chin out.

Drake smiled and he reached toward a low shelf against the
back wall. A plate soared out and performed a few flips before coming to rest
on the floor. The massive stone stopped its movement as he rested his palm on
its top. He swung his arm so the rock floated above the plate.

"At your exam, you will have to hold a plate in the air
at the same time as a stone. If the plate falls or gets broken, you fail."

A hush fell on the students, but Drake's eyes never left the
pudgier boy as the tension built. Then Drake released the stone. It plummeted
to the floor and the plate shattered. Even though it was expected, many of the
students flinched at the sound.

"Satisfied?" Drake asked. His tone was mild, but
it seemed to Tess that he was annoyed.

The boy nodded reluctantly, and Drake turned to the class.
"Gravity magic requires discipline, and speaking out of turn demonstrates
a lack thereof. As such, I believe our friend here would like to be the first
to display his ability."

With a flick of his wrist Drake sent the heavy stone to its
pedestal. It settled onto the stand like it was resting on a pillow. Then he
gestured to the boy. "Start at the largest, and work your way to the
smallest. Let's see where you stand."

The boy glared at Drake, but stood up without responding. He
approached the line of stones and stopped in front of the heaviest. His fist
clenched as he strained to lift it with his magic. Ten seconds passed, and then
twenty. Finally Drake sighed.

"You may proceed to the hundred and fifty." Then he
gestured to the student closest to the stones. "You on the end may start
on the two hundred."

A thin girl stood and hesitantly approached the large one.
As the boy's face next to her turned purple with the effort, she tried to
mentally lift the rock in front of her. After a few seconds Drake called for
them to rotate.

As the next in line started, Drake said, "While you
wait, the rest of you should practice your magesight. Try blinking in and out
of it. This is especially important for those that are auren-raised. Many
master level mages can use their magic without using their magesight at all.
The ability of dropping in and out of your sight is the key to accomplishing
that."

It seemed that Drake's gaze lingered on Tess, but it didn't
remain long enough for her to be certain. She felt a flush warm her cheeks
anyway. Why did he have to be so good-looking?

She attempted to focus as he'd suggested, but her gaze kept
returning to Drake's features. She didn't manage to activate her sight
successfully until he donned a pair of sleek glasses. With a grunt of
irritation, Tess counted the students before her, and saw that she would go
third from last. Forcing herself to take advantage of the time, she did as
Drake had suggested and relaxed.

It took several tries to activate her mage sight. She
checked to see if Drake noticed when she did, and then bit her lip at the
impulse. The changes in emotion caused her sight to fade into normal vision.
With a sigh she tried again.

Just as before, the world became awash in different colors.
People, walls, and the air itself were manifest in varying shades of weak hues.
She recalled what Drake had said about the colors brightening with practice,
and she noticed that red was more vibrant than the others.

She was distracted at the bellow of triumph. Blinking back
to normal vision, she saw that the thin girl had succeeded in lifting the
five-pound stone. Wobbling a few inches above the pedestal, it nevertheless
floated in the air. Drake praised her effort and told her she could return to
her seat. The larger boy scowled at her and tried again with the three-pound in
front of him, succeeding in lifting it a scant inch before it dropped.

Drake's eyes flitted in a few directions, and Tess guessed
that he was recording their results with his glasses. Then she realized she was
running out of time, and forced her mounting nervousness aside. Taking a deep
breath, she slipped into her sight. Now that she knew what to look for, it
didn't take her long to find the purple lines.

To her surprise she found thousands of purple threads
stretching in every direction. At first she thought they were all gravity, but
upon further inspection she realized that the vertical lines were a darker
shade than the angled and horizontal ones. With a start she realized the others
must be what a techno mage could see. The lines congregated around the
omni-glasses that Drake and the students wore . . .

"Tess?" she heard a voice.

She jerked, and swiveled to see Drake's penetrating blue
eyes on her.

"It's your turn," he said.

He smiled at her, leaving her further disconcerted. She
swallowed at the sudden knot in her throat and stood. Striding to the largest
stone, she fought to calm her heart. It's just a test, she said to
herself. And no one knows who you are. She faced the two hundred pound
stone and took a breath to steady herself. Then she blinked into her sight.

She was pleased that the magesight came easier than it had before.
The difference was minimal, but perceptible enough to bolster her confidence.
It didn't take her long to find the dark purple lines that threaded their way
through the rock. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she sought to bend
them. At first they seemed like bands of iron, and rebuffed her effort.

She growled under her breath, and pushed harder. To her
immense satisfaction, they responded. Inch by inch they pulled away from the
stone's center, and separated to wrap around its exterior. The measure of
success spurred her to greater exertion, and the gravity flowed away like
water. As the last band reached the exterior, she felt a rush of triumph . . .

—The heavy stone rocketed upward and exploded through the
ceiling. A moment later it crashed through the ceiling of the room above, and
then another. Chunks of debris rained down as the nearby students dived for
cover. Tess was too stunned to move, but in an instant Drake was by her side.

Extending a hand toward the hole he stopped the upward
momentum of the stone. "I need to bring it down, Tess," he
said, his voice distorted with exertion. "Release your spell!"

Still shocked by what she'd done, she reversed her will on
the gravity—and jerked back as the stone burst into view again. Enhanced by the
double might of their combined magic, it struck the pedestal like a blow of
lightning, shattering it into a cloud of white dust and rubble.

When the smoke cleared the remains of the stone were
embedded into the classroom floor. Tess stared at them, a thousand thoughts
flitting through her mind. What had she just done? Had she really just moved
something with her magic? Did it betray who she was? What would Hawk think when
he heard? What was Drake thinking?

She shook her head, discarding the last thought. Clenching
her jaw, she turned to face Drake, who stood staring at her with an odd
expression. His eyes were narrowed and evaluating, yet held less anger than she
would have expected. And was it respect or desire in his eyes? Had she succeeded
in impressing him?

"Tess," he said, his tone measured, "I will
change your class schedule to include Intro to Flight. Your skill level is not
suitable for this class."

"Don't I need to learn more about gravity magic?"
she asked.

"You just did. I will see you there. You are dismissed
from this course."

She swallowed at the intensity of his gaze, wondering if she
had erred in what she'd done. Mentally she cursed him. Why hadn't he given more
instruction than that? It was his own fault for his 'aggressive approach.' Then
she realized he was waiting for her to leave.

Raising her chin, she strode from the room. She threw a
glance up the hole as she passed. A dozen faces from the upper floors stared
down at her, shock and wonder reflected in their features. She looked back as
she stepped into the hall, and saw that her classmates bore the same expression.
Anger and worry hastened her steps as she fled.

Chapter 11: Inferno

Hawk frowned at Tess, his expression thoughtful. It turned
out that Tess hadn't needed to tell him about the events in the gravity class.
Within an hour she'd gotten a message via her glasses for her to meet him. Her
compass had led her to a lower classroom of the fire building after History of
Magic. She never would have admitted it, but she'd been elated to see him.

At every turn she felt like she didn't know how to act.
Would something reveal her identity? Would some untoward word betray her? She
didn't know, and worse, she didn't know how to learn—without Hawk.

But his expression when she'd found him was unexpected.
She'd thought he might be angry, or perhaps worried. Instead, he looked like he
was studying a battlefield, trying to identify the best place to attack.

Hawk finally sighed, and said, "I think it would be
best if we begin our tutoring now. There are certain things that perhaps I was
remiss on."

"What about . . . what happened?"

"We'll get to that," Hawk said, and swept his hand
at the room.

"To begin I should explain this room. You will see it
for yourself tomorrow when you take your fire class, but for several reasons we
should begin your fire training now."

"Why?"

"Because if you can do that with gravity, you will
likely do more damage with fire."

"Oh."

He smiled sympathetically and pointed to the pit at the front
of the chamber. "This is a fire training hall. You will notice the walls
are stone, as are the benches. You will also notice that they slope down to the
pit next to me. Everything in here is immune to fire except the pit. The
purpose for the protection may be obvious, but the bridge over the pit may not
be."

Hawk strode to the pit and lit a ball of flame in his palm.
He tossed it into the hole, where it ignited an explosion of fire. The
billowing flames filled the cavity as if fed by gasoline, and engulfed the
twenty-foot bridge that arced over it.

Hawk then stepped to the bridge and walked across it. Tess
noticed that the fire was less intense at the start of the bridge, but got
progressively brighter the farther Hawk went. As he approached the end Tess had
to shield her eyes to see that tongues of flame curled up his body.

He stopped at the hottest spot and turned to face Tess. He
didn't seem aware of the inferno licking at his bare arms.

"This is the first thing you will learn in the fire
school," he said. "It is called a heat shield. It is a safety spell,
and you must master it before you can learn to manipulate fire itself. Casting
a heat shield can save your life, the lives of others, and can stop a great
deal of accidental destruction.

"To cast a shield spell, look at the fire and shift
into your sight. You will see the red of heat. At this point I am confident you
could simply extinguish the flames, but for now, I want you to wrap your body
in the lighter red of the room. Then walk over the bridge as I have done, a
step at a time. When it gets too hot, stop."

Hawk stepped out of the fire and gestured for her to begin.
Clenching her jaw against her nervousness, Tess walked to the edge of the fire.
She then blinked into her sight and did as he had requested. It seemed easy, as
if the cooler air of the room wanted to attach to her body.

She took a cautious step onto the bridge, and then another.
A small part of her wondered if she had gone crazy. Walking through an inferno
would have been suicide a month ago, but now felt oddly . . . . normal. Through
her sight, she watched the fire touch her body, but not sink in. Smiling to
herself, she took another step. She could feel the warmth but it was distant, like
a campfire that was just out of reach.

Step by step she crossed through the flame. Upon exiting she
faced Hawk with a grin of triumph on her lips. It faded when she saw his
worried expression.

"Did I do it wrong?" she asked.

"You did fine," he exclaimed, a smile erasing his
frown. "You did exactly as I expected, and as I feared."

"What do you mean?"

Hawk sighed and stabbed a finger at the pit. "It takes
most students a full quad to master the heat shield, and you did it on your
first attempt. I doubt anyone has ever done so well."

"Just like with gravity," she said, her eyebrows
pulling together. She would have been thrilled by the display of power, but
Hawk's expression made that impossible. Could he not be proud of her at least
once?

"Exactly," he said, and flashed a wry grin.
"I think it's safe to say you will be a power oracle."

"A what?"

"Sorry, sometimes I forget you are still new to this.
Throughout our more ancient history there were many oracles, although usually just
one at a time. Over the last few centuries we have begun to classify them as
either future oracles, or power oracles. Future oracles had a greater talent
with their farsight, power oracles were gifted with the various magics."

"So every magic will be like fire and gravity?"

"No," Hawk laughed. "I'm afraid it won't be
that easy for you." He traced a circle in the air with his finger,
lighting a ribbon of flame that hung suspended. "As you now know, the
various energies are typically represented in a circle—with the exception of
the unknowables that aren't related to any others. You also know that when a
mage is skilled in multiple magics, their skills most often are adjacent to
each other on the circle. Fire and gravity are a perfect example.

"Since you broke your binding with fire, and have
demonstrated such an aptitude with gravity, I would say your greater skill is
congregated toward this side of circle." He nudged the top of the floating
ring, and its flame brightened. "Your skills on the opposite side, though
. . .," he poked the bottom of the circle and the flame dimmed, "will
be much weaker. Body, healing, and animal magic will likely be more difficult
for you."

"At least I know that in advance."

"True," Hawk said, and dismissed the circle of
flame. "And that is the purpose of our lesson today. Now that you know
what is coming, you must hide more of yourself. We must do everything we can—ˮ

"To hide my identity for as long as possible, I
know." She blew out her breath. "So what do you want me to do?
Pretend to be normal?"

"As much as you can, for now." His look was
apologetic. "But I doubt it will go on for long. By the end of this quad
you will have no choice but to reveal who you are. The school will require that
you present yourself. If I were to try to avoid it a second time it would
arouse a great deal of suspicion."

"That's why you brought me late," Tess said.

"Yes," Hawk said. "Your anonymity right now
will allow you to make mistakes without being judged. It will also protect you
from demands you could not hope to fulfill."

"So I have three months to learn control and
wisdom?" She sighed and looked away. "What if I can't be
normal?"

"Then nearly every mage in our world will love you or
hate you, demand that you lead us . . . or seek to manipulate you."

No pressure.

"What about today?" she asked, leveling her gaze
at him. "Is it already too late?"

His brow furrowed in thought. "I don't think so,
although I have no doubt your name is now known. By this time tomorrow everyone
will know you as the most powerful flyer in generations—all before you have
flown."

"Great," she said under breath. One day
in and I am already blowing it. How could Hawk expect her to just step up
and be the oracle?

"It was bound to happen sometime," he said,
"And at least now you get to fly. There's really no point in hiding your
skill with gravity after what happened. I would also wager you have an inkling
of how powerful you are, and will become."

"I'm still not sure that's a good thing."

"Power, in of itself, is not bad, Tess. It's how you
control and use it that matters."

His remark reminded her of her father, and how he would talk
around election time. The thought made her miss him, and wonder how he would be
dealing with all this.

"I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask," he said. "Now, since
you can't practice fighting in your fire class, we will finish our time by
doing so here. Do you remember the fire gauntlets?"

She flushed, her mind turning unbidden to Drake. She
tightened her jaw and used the emotion to call forth a fire. Just as Drake had
done, the flames coiled and tightened around her forearms. She felt a sense of
pride that she had done so without the gauntlets that Drake wore.

"Excellent," Hawk said, and in a burst of heat
called forth his own. "To do this with your bare skin is one of the most
difficult spells for a fire mage. This is because our skin isn't great for
attaching heat. That said, if you can do it you don't need the expensive
gauntlets that the Tempest players favor.

"What's important for our purposes is that you can
compress a great deal of power around your arms. Do so now—but stop when it feels like
they are going to explode."

With that comforting thought she incrementally raised the
heat of her gauntlets. Drawing from the still blazing fire, she paid close
attention to its breaking point. She took it slow, and Hawk waited patiently
until she stopped.

"I think that's all I can do," she said.

She was actually afraid that she had done too much. The fire
on her arms had turned orange with their intensity, and felt almost heavy, like
a hot, wet towel had been wrapped around each arm. Both fire gauntlets vibrated
as they strained to hold the power in check. She looked up and found Hawk only
a step away. Startled, she lost her focus.

—her gauntlets exploded.

On instinct she shielded herself from the flames as she flew
backward, but again lost her focus as she collided with a stone bench. She
grimaced as pain knifed across her back, but she managed to shield herself
against the massive fireball raging twenty feet in front of her. Standing in
the middle of it, Hawk calmly siphoned off the fire into the nearby pit. When
it was gone he approached her and helped her sit up.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

She rubbed the spot on her back. "Just bruised, I
think." Then she rounded on him. "You distracted me."

"I know," he said.

She blinked at his ready acceptance. "You did it on
purpose?" Her anger dissolved into confusion. Why would he do that?

"I did," he said. "And I hope you can forgive
me. If I hadn't, they could have detonated in the middle of a fight. You need
to know what it's like if you lose your focus."

A part of her wanted to be angry, but it was hard to hold
onto with Hawk's look of apology. "Any way to prevent it?" She
scowled at him, but was more annoyed than upset.

"Of course," he said. "And excellent job in shielding
yourself. I was prepared to do it for you, but there was no need for me to step
in. Your instincts are right where they should be."

The praise was sufficiently mollifying that she smiled.
"Alright, you are forgiven. Now show me how to stop that from happening
again."

He then taught her how to seal the spell. Once completed,
the flame gauntlets became self-contained, allowing for her to use other magic
without them detonating. Once she'd mastered that, Hawk had her do target
practice. Thirty minutes later she was tired, sweaty, and covered in ash.

"We are probably done for today," Hawk said with a
satisfied nod. "Hitting seven moving targets is enough for now."

"My dad used to take me shooting with him," she
admitted. "And this isn't that different from hitting clay pigeons with a
shotgun." Except that I am the gun . . . and the ammunition. She
grinned at the thought.

He smiled in turn. "Next time we will work on more
powerful fire spells. In the meantime I want you to practice fire at least four
hours a week. I know your schedule is full, but it's imperative that you
improve your skills—and
you can't do it in your fire class. I will send you a list of spells and charms
that you can work on."

Tess issued a troubled sigh. She loved learning magic, but
the volume of homework she'd received was alarming, and she hadn't even gone to
all of her classes yet. Hawk seemed to read her thoughts.

"I'm sorry about the extra work," he said.
"But I want to ensure you are safe if they come after you again."

"Where should I practice?"

He pointed to the floor. "Each school has practicum
rooms in their lower levels. The ones here are private, and contain a heat
source that you can utilize. Apprentices are not allowed to enter without an
adult, but demonstrate your fire gauntlets and the doors should recognize you
as skilled enough for private study."

"I will practice," she promised, and resolved to
do it after her daily fire class. She had a break before lunch and no one would
be expecting her anywhere.

"I am confident you will continue to exceed my
expectations," he said. "I will let you know when I can tutor you
again."

"Won't it be every week?" she asked, surprised at
the vague reference.

"Hopefully—but there are critical events occurring
right now that I must be present for."

"Like what?"

His gaze seared her with its intensity.

"You aren't the only one trying to prevent a war,
Tess."

With that cryptic statement he left her with an admonishment
to be careful, and to choose her friends wisely. With her thoughts slowing her
steps, she trudged her way to dinner. Wishing to avoid contact with anyone, she
ducked into the second meal hall and ate quickly. Then she ascended the steps
to her room.

With twilight deepening into darkness, she called her
mother. As they talked Tess wondered if she would ever not feel guilty for
lying. After saying goodbye Tess turned to her load of homework.

Her old loathing for the task seemed to have abated, to a
degree, and she assumed that was due to the subject material. Even History of
Magic was interesting. For the next two hours she delved through a history that
lay hidden from the known world. Then she worked on her essay for Magic in the
Modern World.

She was stunned by the sheer volume of areas that magic had
influenced. Everything from farming to space travel had been subtly impacted by
mages. After an hour she felt like her mind was spinning out of control, so she
went to bed before Iris returned. Despite her fatigue, her mind would not stop asking
the same question.

How can I do this alone?

Chapter 12: The Key

Breaker smelled the smoke and came to a halt. He was still a
couple of miles from the rock troll village and smoke was to be expected from
their fires—but this carried the distinct scent of burnt flesh. His wariness
sparked to the forefront of his thoughts and he picked up the pace.

The dirt under his feet lifted him higher and sped him
through the jungle. Stone magic was his specialty, and was displayed proudly by
the knot tattooed onto his right arm. Short and stocky, he was built like a
muscular boulder. His brown hair was dark and matched his eyes, which bore a
harsh intensity for anything except his family.

As he cruised through the trees his brow was furrowed in
thought. This was supposed to be a routine assignment, which was why he'd been
sent alone instead of with his team. Bigfoot sightings were becoming more and
more common, and when they were based in truth it was because someone had
spotted a rock troll.

The sightings had forced more and more of the massive trolls
to migrate to one of the three remaining villages in the world. One lay hidden
in the deserts of southern Utah. The second had been forced to move further
into northern Europe. The last was Breaker's goal, and lay deep in the
unexplored Brazilian Amazon.

Some in the mage community feared that the auren expansion
would push the rock trolls to revert to their ancient ways. Breaker believed
differently. Ever since the legendary King Tryton, the rock trolls had changed.
Where once they had thirsted for the heat and blood of battle, they now fought
for a higher purpose. They had become sentinels in defiance of war and
unnecessary bloodshed. The shift in their traditions had not diminished their
prowess in battle, nor their effort to be supreme warriors. It had only altered
their purpose in training. On many occasions they had secretly brought down
warlords, tyrants, and terrorists.

Breaker slowed as he saw the glow through the trees, and
stopped when he reached the tree line. His blood ran cold at the carnage before
him. A mound of rock rose into the air. Pockmarked with caves, the mound was
surrounded by a deep gorge that would have made it difficult for most to pass.

Fires blazed from most of the caves, leaving thick, black
smoke to curl into the night. He peered through the haze, trying to identify
the cause. Then a gust of wind rippled the curtain of smoke and he saw the
bodies. Bloodied and beaten, the massive forms lay on the ground in front of
the rocks. Broken swords and spears lay shattered around them, bearing
testament to their final moments.

Fury surged in Breaker's heart, but he suppressed it. Who
would have done such a thing? And more importantly, who could have?
Knowing he had to learn more, he stalked the outside of the gorge, scanning for
survivors—and attackers. Finding no one, he jerked his hand at the stone at his
feet. It arced over the gorge and deposited him on top of the natural wall that
ringed the village.

He slid off the wall and landed in the shadows as a trickle
of fear coursed through him. His skin tingled and he shivered at the foreboding
in his blood. For the first time since his youth he stayed in the shadows as
terror gripped him, and he felt the gaze of killers searching for him. He
growled under his breath, reminding himself of who he was. Rayths did not feel fear.

They inspired it.

He scanned the corpses, but nothing moved. Still he
hesitated as his intuition screamed at him to flee. Reining it in with a clench
of his jaw, he darted to the first body. At ten feet in height, the rock troll
would have towered over Breaker, but he lay on his side, his blood staining the
dirt beneath him. A glance revealed that the injuries were made from magic
rather than a weapon. A gouge here, and flesh burned by flame next to it. The
marks of fire, ice, and other means coated his body. He shuddered as he saw the
truth written in the rock troll's flesh.

Rock trolls were trained to be the ultimate warrior, but it
was their skin that provided their greatest tactical advantage. With the advent
of firearms, the trolls had taken to using special amulets to enhance the
natural density of their skin. By adulthood their skin was like living Kevlar.

Enhanced in such a fashion a troll was all but impervious to
magical attacks—yet this body had taken enough damage to break through it. The hackles
on Breaker's neck rose as he darted to the next corpse, and then another. Each
had died in a similar manner.

Then he saw movement.

The largest of the trolls reached up and grabbed his leg.
Breaker nearly killed him in surprise. Then he knelt by the troll's side, and
through the mask of wounds on his face, he recognized him.

"Kreiton," Breaker growled, his voice a harsh
whisper. "What happened?"

The troll coughed through bloody teeth. "They took down
our sentries and lured us outside."

Breaker's stomach tightened. "Who could have done this
to your kind?"

Kreiton bared his teeth in a snarl of pain and hate, but he
shook his head. Then his eyes flickered over Breaker's shoulder. Dread filled
Breaker's chest as he heard the pattern of footsteps behind him. He whirled to
face them, calling on his magic as he did.

The stone next to him shattered into pieces and climbed into
the air. Grinding and twisting, the rocks shaped into fists the size of trucks.
The ground shook as the stone hands punched it—but the circle of cloaked
figures did not make a move. The standoff lasted for several seconds until one
stepped from the crowd and lifted his hood. His black eyes glittered with
anticipation.

"Breaker, the great Rayth, captain in the battlemages
for a decade, it's an honor."

Breaker didn't answer. His eyes scanned the circle,
searching for a weakness. The attackers wore cloaks that were ripped and torn
from their attack on the trolls. Blood stained many of them. Despite the
evidence of their conflict, one thing spoke volumes of their skill.

They were still alive.

"Why?" Breaker barked.

"Because mages are meant for more than exile. Don't you
see that we have eliminated hunger, want, and all the needs that aurens wage
wars for? There is no reason for their loss of life. Under us they would live
in peace and prosperity, and their families would be safe. Their lives would be
better without the choices that doom them to pain."

"You wish to enslave them," Breaker spit the words
at him. "But a tyrant is still a tyrant, no matter his intentions."
He swept his hand at the bodies that lay around him, and his stone fist
mirrored his motion. "A true leader does not need to kill like this."

The black-eyed man laughed. "You will not know our
master until it is too late, even if you fish for it. I am not such a fool that
I would reveal it—even to a dead man."

A tall thin figure beside him leaned close and whispered in
his ear, causing his black eyes to tighten. "Especially as you are
recording this on your glasses . . . and would report it to Hawk."

Breaker's blood turned to ice. Only Hawk and a handful
within the Guild knew that Breaker was a member. Was it possible the Guild had
a traitor? The possibility of betrayal blossomed Breaker's anger into rage.
Without waiting for them to attack, he struck first.

The stone fists pummeled the nearest cloaked ones. The
chilling snap of bones and subsequent screams overwhelmed night. Then the Harbingers
hit back.

Piercing water, ice, and fire streaked toward him, but he intercepted
each blow with his rock fists. One cracked under the assault, unable to
withstand the will behind the magic. Breaker sent the broken fist into the
advancing ranks, and then detonated it. Rocks and chunks of debris exploded into
the cloaked ones, tearing them to shreds.

A pair of gravity mages lifted the rubble into a tornado of
rock. Discarded troll weapons lifted into the deadly cyclone. It raised like a
whip, churning with stones and broken blades. It snapped toward Breaker, but he
caught the salvo with his remaining stone fist.

It crumbled from the blow, so Breaker leaned down and
punched the ground. The remains of the massive rock fist followed suit. The
stone rippled as it struck, sending the attackers stumbling and falling to
their knees. Releasing his hold on the fist, he called on the surrounding rock.
He rose to his feet, yanking it free of the earth.

Four sections of stone exploded from the ground and collided
above his head, shielding him and Kreiton from view. The shell was powerful,
but hasty, and tiny gaps between the plates allowed the flickering firelight
into the temporary refuge.

Knowing he had only seconds, Breaker dropped to the rock
troll's side. "What were they after?" he said in a rush.

"They came for the key," Kreiton growled. Even
with death at his door the rock troll managed to draw a dagger from his side
and push himself into a sitting position.

"Key? What key?"

"They sought the sword of—ˮ

Water streaked through a gap in the pyramid. Then it froze,
and pierced Kreiton's chest. The rock troll shuddered, but refused to die. With
a snarl he hurled the dagger through the gap. A muffled scream marked the hit.
Then the great troll went limp at the same time that Breaker's shield trembled.
An instant later it was torn asunder. Breaker yelled his fury and rose to his
feet, but a swirl of black enveloped him.

He recognized it for anti-magic, and tried to jump clear
before it sapped his power. Before he could he was struck in the head by a
piece of rubble. He collapsed, and fought to remain conscious. His hand
trembled as he reached into his pocket and clenched his glasses. Before he
could send the recording of the last few minutes to Hawk, he felt them shatter
in his palm.

He looked up, and saw a tall, thin, techno mage glide into
view. Then the dark-eyed one took his place. His smile was malicious as he
crouched over Breaker and attached a pair of ink colored shackles to his
wrists.

"Take him with our other prisoners. I'm sure he has
information we can use—especially about the Guild."

Breaker fought to bring his magic to bear, but the
anti-magic bonds were far too strong. His consciousness fading, he thought of
his daughter and two sons. Whatever else, he could not leave them alone.

Then darkness closed his vision and the world faded from
view . . .

Chapter 13: The Weight of Fear

Tess awoke to find Iris staring at her, but at least this
time her roommate was on her own bed. As usual there was purple in her
clothing, which Tess had begun to suspect had an amplifying effect on her
magic. Tess sat up with a groan, feeling a lingering headache, although she
could not explain why. She rubbed at the pain in her shoulders and the bruise
on her back.

"Shh," Iris said, but her eyes had flicked to the
side, "I'm busy Elliot."

Tess turned to see her roommate's gaze back on her. After
her previous day's attitude it was odd to have Iris making eye contact.

"How was your first day?" Iris said. Her question
sounded forced, as if she were articulating every word.

"As well as could be expected," Tess said. She
wasn't sure what to make of the change in behavior.

"The soreness and headache will pass by the time you
eat," Iris said.

"How do you know that?"

She grimaced. "It's one of the effects of using too
much magic. You just need to replenish your energy. If you go too far, you'll
know it."

Every few seconds Iris's eyes flicked to the side, and she
bit her lip like she wanted to say something.

"You can do your . . . thing," Tess said. "It
doesn't bother me."

Iris's eyebrows twitched in confusion. "But my brother
said it might have scared you away. He also said I shouldn't tell you
that." Iris stared at her, her eyes wide and earnest, waiting for her
response.

"Actually your honesty is refreshing," Tess said,
and meant it.

Iris breathed a sigh of relief and flashed a dazzling smile.
Tess had thought of her as pretty before, but now was the first time she
realized that Iris was gorgeous. It may have been hidden behind her behavior,
but in that single smile it was unmistakable. Surprised by the revelation, she
nearly missed Iris's reply.

"Good. It's nice to have a friend that isn't a techno
mag. Breakfast?"

Without waiting for a response Iris turned to the side and
bombarded the air with instructions to several people. And just like that Iris
was back. Oddly grateful for her return to 'normalcy,' Tess dressed and headed
for the door. Iris caught her arm and spun her about.

"Do you like it?" she asked. "I noticed you
didn't put a memory into your memory frame, so I took the liberty of inserting
one for you."

Above Tess's bed, the painting frame now showed Tess's
mother and father at the airport, waving goodbye. Jack had his arm around Kate
as tears glistened in their eyes. It was the exact moment that Tess had left on
her way to Tryton's.

"How did you get this?" Tess asked.

"Do you like it? Or not? I don't have your memory—obviously—so I pulled the feed from
the auren cameras at the airport you left from. The quality wasn't great, but I
did the best with what I could. You can replace it if you want—Elliot, hang on. Yes, I know
you have to get to class, but it's not going anywhere so give . . ."

Iris continued to talk to Elliot, and Tess took the
opportunity to regain control of her emotions. "It's wonderful, Iris,
thank you," she said.

Iris beamed at her, and then went back to her arguing. On
impulse, Tess composed and sent a quick message to her mom. Then she turned
away from the frame with a bittersweet smile on her lips. As she turned the doorknob
Iris appeared in her wake, seemingly oblivious to Tess's actions as she argued
with Elliot.

Taking the lead, Tess headed for breakfast. She felt
nominally better knowing what to do when she entered the meal hall, but her
confidence evaporated long before she could open the door. Nearly every person
she encountered stopped mid-conversation to point or stare at her. The moment
she passed they would begin to whisper behind her back. The attitude irritated
her, but it didn't come close to matching the response when she entered the
meal hall.

She strode through the doors, and a stunned silence swept
the room. Uncertainty assailed her, and then anger burnt it to a crisp. Her
chin rising, she strode to the stairs and made her way to the food cauldrons.
Students made a path for her, but she pointedly ignored them.

Collecting her food she sent it through the cauldron and
then stalked to the table she had shared with Iris the previous day. She
slammed her plate down across from Derek and sank into a seat. Iris was quick
to join them, but paid them no mind as she distractedly began to eat. The
moment they sat the meal hall erupted with whispered conversations.

"So . . .?" Derek said, a grin threatening to
burst on his features. "How was your first day?"

Tess glared at him, but the forced blandness to his
expression repelled her anger like soap on oil. "I lifted a rock.
You?"

"Mine was good," Derek said, losing the fight to
keep the grin from his face. "I carved a statue using nothing but my
imagination. Or that might have been what I was supposed to do. What I actually
did is debatable."

"His statue looked like a glob of iron melted in a
fire," Iris said in an aside.

"Hey! How do you know that?" Derek demanded, but
Iris was no longer paying attention. She was apparently playing some sort of
game, because she was telling someone to 'flank the brute in the lead. I'll
take him down with the sniper rifle.'

Despite the attention on her, Tess laughed at Derek's
annoyance. "Don't feel bad. You aren't the only one she does that to."
She told him about the frame, causing him to issue a bark of laughter.

"I should be used to it by now," he said. "There
is no way she could see my first day tests. Omni-glasses are warded against
intrusion, and there are no other optic devices—magic or otherwise—allowed. And
yet Iris strikes again."

"Cheer up, brother," Iris said, "It was
certainly better than last quad's attempt." Then she returned to her game.

Derek laughed at himself and gestured to his sister, as if
the motion captured more than words. Then he changed the subject. To Tess it
seemed that he purposefully avoided talk of her gravity class. She was grateful
for that, and yet wished he had just spoken his mind. Several times throughout
the meal she caught his eyes on her, curiosity deepening his gaze.

After the meal she said goodbye to her friends and activated
her glasses. First on her schedule was Intro to Flight. She followed the gold
filament her glasses displayed and turned her steps toward the mind building.
On her way she dodged students as well as she could.

In the meal hall some of the students had wanted to approach
her. The curiosity on their faces was enough cause to avoid them. It was not
something that she wanted to explain. On the way to class she kept her eyes on
the path and pretended not to notice the scrutiny.

Reaching the Mind School, she followed the thread up the
building, through it, and then out the back. She came to an abrupt halt as she
exited the building—and saw the place from her dreams.

Stretching for several hundred yards, a field of low grass
swayed in the breeze. Unmarred by tree, shrub, or structure, the grass went all
the way to the cloudwall. A line of straight trees curved up the two sides,
hedging in the field as if they guarded and protected it. A dozen people stood
near the center of the field.

Swallowing against her memory of the place, she worked her way
down the back stairs. Then she strode through the grass toward the group. Again
and again she looked at the four sides of the massive field, expecting the
trees, the building, or the cloudwall not to be there.

She stopped when she reached the other students, and avoided
eye contact with each of them. One by one they fell silent as they noticed her.
Then they began to whisper to each other. From the snatches she heard it seemed
that they wondered who her parents had been, and they speculated if she would
be able to fly today.

Tess wished they were more like her dream, silent. Tuning
them out, she focused on her environment. Beneath her feet the green swayed in
the breeze, flowing like ripples across the surface of a lake. She felt the
soft caress of the wind, and welcomed it as a distraction.

Once the whispering and pointing had subsided, Tess glanced
about herself. There were several figures around and behind her. Like her, they
were dressed in jeans and t-shirts. They were also of varying ages, but Tess
got the sense that she was the youngest by a wide margin.

Two of them appeared to be a couple, and jumped to her sides
when she looked at them.

"Mike—ˮ

"Laura—ˮ

They said their names at the same time, and then grinned at
each other. Their accent wasn't American, but Tess couldn't decide where it
came from. England perhaps?

"Heard what you did yesterday," Laura said.

"Impressive," he added.

She agreed with a curt nod, but her eyes never left Tess.
"Have you flown before?"

"Or just knocked down walls by accident?"

"Yesterday was as much a surprise for me as it was for
anyone else," Tess replied defensively.

They frowned in unison and looked at each other. "We
should have given better odds," she said.

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter now. When she flies our
take will be almost as good as the last Tempest game—ˮ

"You bet on me?" she asked. "Why?"

Laura laughed and shook her brown hair. "Why not? We
put up marks that you would fly today. Most put their money on day three or
four. It sounds like we should have given better odds. One to eleven wasn't
nearly enough."

Mike rubbed his short blond hair, biting his lip in chagrin.
"She's a perfect long-shot. How often do they come up?"

Tess didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed. The couple
was obviously smart, and both wore three-sided air knots, indicating they were
quite skilled with air magic. She found herself hoping she wouldn't disappoint
them.

"Gravity and air?" she asked. "Are you going
to play Tempest?"

They shook their heads in unison, and Mike said, "We'd
rather be on the sidelines . . .ˮ

". . . collecting our winnings," Laura finished
with a grin.

"Do you always win?" Tess said with a laugh. They
replied at the same time.

"Yes," Mike said.

"Usually," Laura said.

They laughed and fell into a discussion about the few times
they had lost. From the way they talked it sounded like they had been together
for a while, and she wondered how they had met, and how long they had been at Tryton’s.
Before she could ask the professor arrived.

The woman strode through the grass toward them. Short and
thin, she nevertheless gave the impression of an indomitable spirit. Her gait
was strong, her gaze unflinching as she evaluated the students. Her hair was
cropped short, and spiked despite her age. Tess would have guessed her to be
about forty.

"I am professor Lerik. Welcome to flight school. Safety
is our primary concern, so the instant you don’t do as instructed, you are
gone. You will have to wait until the next quad to repeat the course.”

Her lancing gaze carried the threat better than Tess's dream
had, and again she had no doubt that many had regretted their choices in the
class.

Professor Lerik's lesson was brief as she described how to
manipulate gravity, warping it to form a bubble around you, until your body
began to lift off the ground. If any of the students got that far, she would
help them learn to curve gravity further . . . until they were able to control
their direction. More than once she warned of the dangers—and that injuries
were common. She finished by informing them that less than one in ten would
pass her course on the first attempt.

Tess kept blinking throughout the lecture. Word for word it
sounded like her dream, and the resemblance sent tingles down her spine. Had
she seen this moment before coming to school? She'd learned enough from Hawk to
know that oracles could look into the future, so was that what had happened?
Had she simply dreamed what was coming?

In the first significant deviation from Tess's dream, the
professor stabbed a finger toward the grass at their feet. "This is flight
safety grass. It is enchanted to lessen gravity. This will both assist you, and
help you to avoid injury. My assistant for this course will now demonstrate
this."

The professor gestured upward, and for the first time Tess
saw a figure high above them. Standing with his arms folded and his cloak
billowing behind him, Drake floated casually a hundred feet up. Irritation at
his smug grin warred with the surge of attraction Tess felt. A few of the other
girls quietly expressed their own feelings for him, and her irritation
transferred to them. In contrast, Laura and Mike voiced the opposite emotion.

"The great big-headed one," Mike said under
his breath.

"Captain fire-pants," Laura said, and they
both smothered a laugh.

Tess hid a smile. Where did the fire-pants comment come
from? Before she could ask Drake began to fall.

As if his magic had evaporated, he dropped, eliciting gasps
from more than a few in the class. Plummeting toward the ground, he seemed to
strike an invisible cushion, and his momentum slowed. In twenty feet he went
from falling to his death, to landing softly on the grass.

"Professor," Drake said, nodding to her.

She didn't smile back. Instead she turned to the students.
"As Drake has just demonstrated, you can fall without killing yourself in
this field. Outside here . . ." she let the implication hang. "Now,
raise your hand if you are afraid of heights."

Mike and Laura's hands shot up first. Several others shifted
their feet, and then a girl raised her hand. A moment later a boy did as well.
Tess joined them as one by one they all raised their hands except for a burly
boy. The professor stared him down until he lowered his gaze and raised his
hand.

"Good," the professor said. "To begin you
must learn why you fear. As some of you may have heard, fear of heights
is typically a precursor to gravity magic. Its purpose is to tell you what you
can and cannot do. In the case of flying, it tells you when you are too high,
or want to lift too much.

"You must learn to acknowledge and listen to your fear,
not ignore it. This goes double for you boys. It has been three years since a
student died learning to fly, and the only reason he did is because he would
not admit he was afraid. Arrogance will kill you first. The ground just
finishes the job."

Again she stared at the students. The look was not quite a
glare or a threat, but it wasn't kind and supportive either. It did inspire
enough fear to dampen Tess's excitement.

"Now," Professor Lerik said briskly, "you
will remain in this class until you earn your apprentice flyers knot,
regardless of how many quads it takes. Once you have earned it you may enroll
in Advanced Flight, or Combined Flight if you have fire or air as a secondary
skill. As I am sure you have become accustomed, today we will test your ability
to see where you are at. This is just like your gravity classes, except you
must warp the gravity around your body instead of a rock. Drake and I will now
assist you. Spread out."

Drake and the professor moved to both ends of the group and
began speaking to the individual students. Tess and the others stood around
uncertainly. Only Mike and Laura jumped right to it, and were already rising
into the air and floating. They seemed to be betting on who could go higher.
Seeing the rest of the class's hesitation, Professor Lerik frowned.

"Don't waste my time," she barked. "Do what
you can until we reach you."

Tess dropped her gaze and pretended to concentrate, but
watched the other students out of the corner of her eye. To be in this class
she knew that they had lifted a two-hundred pound weight, but it seemed that
most of the students couldn't lift themselves an inch. Most of them stood with
their fists clenched, their faces turning red as they fought to rise. A few
times some of them came off the ground. Each time their eyes widened and they
settled back.

Several of them looked at her, and she turned away. Watching
them she'd surmised that the gravity magic wasn't the hardest part of flying.
It was overcoming one's fear. With that in mind she took a settling breath.
Then she blinked into her sight.

Tess looked at her feet, concentrating on the energy that bound
her to the ground. Her confidence did not waver as the lines of energy became
clear. Drake and the teacher’s instructions lingered in her mind, and she
willed gravity to bend.

At first it was reluctant, holding its shape just like her
dream. Focusing harder, she felt a sense of triumph as the lines began to
stretch sideways. Instantly she felt less force holding her down. Her heart
stuttered in her chest, and terror threatened to overpower her. Breathing
through it, Tess focused on the image of Drake's fall.

Even if I fall, it's like landing on a pillow, she
thought.

Drawing a deep breath she refused to relent, and fought to
ignore the fear. She felt a thrill of anticipation as more bands moved away
from her body. The pressure on her feet faded. The last thread of gravity
moved—ever so slowly—until it joined the crystal shape that had formed around
her . . .

And she rose into the air.

She squeaked in surprise and lost her focus. She'd only
gotten an inch off the grass, but it was enough to fill her with a desire for
more. Bolstered by that confidence, the threw herself into a second attempt,
and once again began to rise.

The panic struck again—but the sensation of joy far
surpassed it. The earth had relinquished its grasp on her body, powerless
against her willpower. She closed her eyes, relishing in the sensation as she
climbed skyward. Just like in her dream, she swept her hands outward as her
gaze lifted to the heavens, reveling in the supreme freedom. Her dream could
not compare to reality.

Tess had never felt such unbridled delight, and a
spontaneous laugh burst from her lips as she climbed higher. She basked in the
wind on her skin. How high could she go? Depart the earth at will? Some part of
her whispered that she should be afraid, but it felt like her fear had evaporated,
leaving her brimming with confidence . . .

"Tess," the professor said.

Startled, she wobbled, but recovered quickly. Maintaining
her altitude, she turned to find the professor at her side.

"Professor?" Tess asked, trying in vain to force
the grin from her face.

"Do you know how high you are?" the professor
asked, a frown creasing her forehead.

Tess looked down, and was surprised to find herself well
over a hundred feet up. Tiny from so high, she could still make out the shocked
expressions of the students below. Mike and Laura bore expressions of intense
satisfaction as they stared at her. Looking down on them, Tess was inordinately
pleased that no fear assailed her.

"Should I come down?" Tess asked, and the
reluctance was evident in her voice.

Professor Lerik folded her arms, her eyes narrowing.
"Are you certain you have never flown before?"

"Never," Tess said.

The professor studied her face, looking for deception. Then
she cocked her head to the side, a look of puzzlement blossoming on her
features. "You remind me of . . . but that can't be. He never had a
child."

"Who?" Tess asked, feeling a twinge in her gut.

"Garret Flast," Professor Lerik said. "He did
things in the air that I had never seen. But what is your surname?"

"I don't know my mage parents," Tess said softly.
"I was auren raised."

Professor Lerik jerked as if she had been struck. "That
. . . is odd," she said. Then she shook herself. Without turning she
raised her voice and called down, "Take over for a minute, Drake. We will
be return by the end of class."

Then she gestured an invitation. "Tess, I would like
you to follow me—if you can."

Spinning, Professor Lerik soared higher in the direction of
the mind building. Tess cast one look down before hurrying to catch up. Grinning
wide, she easily arced through the air until she flew beside her teacher. Lerik
almost smiled.

Almost.

"Excellent. I wasn't sure if you would be able to fly
to the side as easily as you did upward, but you do so superbly. Are you using
your magesight?"

"Should I be?" Tess asked.

"No," Lerik said, "but again, it takes time
for mages to master flying without it. It requires an innate sense of gravity's
pull. Are you comfortable leaving the safety of the field?"

Tess searched her heart as they approached the top of the
Mind School, and then shrugged. "I'm not afraid yet."

"Excited?"

"Elated." The word burst from her. It had
taken every ounce of her self control to hide the passion and agitation she
felt to go faster, higher, to turn and flip, and never return to the earth.

"Then let's go," Lerik said, a ghost of a smile
lighting her features. "Take it slow at first, but do whatever you would
like. I will catch you if you fall."

Lerik gathered herself and streaked forward. Her inhibition
gone, Tess burst into laughter and followed. Following her teacher’s
suggestion, Tess took it slow at first, but it was difficult to suppress her
impatience. She didn't just want to fly, she felt compelled to, as if
every thread of her body radiated with certainty.

At Lerik's prompting, Tess began to fly faster. Turning and
twisting as she had imagined, she climbed and soared, gliding in tandem with
Professor Lerik. They rose to a thousand feet above the school, and plummeted
to fifty. They flipped and rolled, riding the currents of air that swirled
around them like rivers of unseen might.

Many times Professor Lerik flew close to her side, watching
and waiting for Tess's magic to fail. Tess hardly noticed. Never before had she
felt so free, and she wondered how it would be to place her feet on the ground.
When Lerik finally called for an end, she decided to voice her thoughts.

"Why would you ever touch the ground?” Tess asked. They
were now gliding at a slow decline, both breathing hard at the exertion of
their acrobatics.

"Are you tired yet?" Lerik asked.

"Some, but not too much."

"You will be. Flying is just like running, or in
reality, more like swimming. By tomorrow morning you will find yourself
exhausted and sore. It will take time for you to build up your endurance."

"But it's incredible," Tess said, throwing her
arms out and turning a slow circle. "I never want to walk again."

Professor Lerik caught her arm, pulling her up short.
Together, they floated a dozen feet above the roof of the Mind School.

"It is," Lerik said, her expression sober, "but
never forget the danger." Her gaze was sharp, and then abruptly she
sighed. "But I suppose you have demonstrated sufficient skill for me to
pass you. I'm sure it would be foolish of me to try and stop you anyway, wouldn't
it."

Tess's grin could not be bound, and she nearly hugged her
teacher.

"If you wear a safety harness—and you can promise me
you will listen to your fear, then I will give you your apprentice's knot. You
will then be permitted to fly outside of the field. Promise me also that you
will lift nothing but yourself. Perhaps you will be able to in the future, but
for now, you need to practice. These rules will keep you safe until you have
mastered your skill—and know your limits."

Tess could barely contain her excitement. "I
promise."

Lerik reached into a pouch at her side and withdrew a small
purple knot. Then she attached it to Tess's left shoulder. Her grin was so
sudden it nearly destroyed Tess's focus.

"Excellent flying, Tess. I will alter your schedule to
Combined Flight. I look forward to seeing your progress. Assuming you maintain
this degree of skill there, you should be well prepared to skip a few levels at
the end of the term. Congratulations."

Professor Lerik then flipped mid-air and soared back to the
rest of her students, her expression once again resolute and intimidating. Tess
waited only long enough to ensure she didn't look back.

Then she threw herself into the sky with a cry of exultation
on her lips.

Chapter 14: Water and Rox

Professor Lerik's expression brought her back. A deepening
frown darkened her features when Tess glanced back, reminding her that she'd
promised to don a safety harness. Reluctantly she returned to the ground at the
rear of the Mind School. Flashing her professor a chagrined look, she entered
and inquired of the first person she passed where to get a safety harness.

Within a minute she was tightening the black leather belt
she had chosen, grateful that it was actually a belt instead of a bulky
harness. Only part of her mind listened to the instructions from the senior
student that gave it to her. She caught the gist though. The belt would only
activate if it detected its wearer without magic and falling. It also didn't
have enough magic to stop a fall, it merely slowed it down.

Tess nodded through it, barely keeping her feet on the
floor. The moment she was out of the room she took off and flew through the
corridors of the Mind School. Dodging protesting students, she burst through
the front doors and angled her route skyward. Gathering her power, she launched
herself straight up.

Wind curled in her wake, twisting and coiling at her passage.
She placed her arms at her sides and her gaze on the sky and turned in a lazy
corkscrew. Without slowing she closed her eyes, and relished the sensation of
the wind pulling at her hair, and the nothingness pressing against her body.

When the city became small beneath her, she settled into a
swooping glide that would take her to her next class. For the first time she
noticed that a handful of other flyers were in the air above the school. The
ones closest grinned at her, and it seemed they were saying, I know exactly
how you feel. A couple were doing air acrobatics and laughing. Another
floated on his back, reading a book, while nearby a foursome seemed to be
studying together. They waved as Tess made eye contact.

Tess laughed but didn't stop to chat. Turning and wheeling,
she reveled in the power of flight until the last possible moment. Finally she
dropped into a steep dive that brought her to the door of the water school.

For the first time she felt a wave of exhaustion assail her,
so she reluctantly placed her feet on the ground. It felt tediously slow, but
she walked toward the room that her glasses indicated. Upon entering, she
plopped into a seat and examined the classroom.

Unlike her other classrooms, this was round, and all the
seats looked down on five basins of water. Four of them were the size of hot
tubs, but the one in the center was much larger. With its sides made of glass,
the reservoir could have been a pool in someone's backyard. A small platform
rested at the focal point of the pool.

As with her other classes, the professor tested everyone
first. To Tess's consternation, manipulating the water was more difficult than
either fire or gravity. She managed to make a passable shape of a lighthouse,
as requested, but it was hardly more than a straight blob.

Still, her effort seemed to please the professor, who
praised her skill and told her she could sit. By the end of the testing Tess noticed
that she was actually near the top of her class. Only a few students had done a
better job than her. The best of them sat next to Tess after completing her own
testing.

"I'm Roxanne," she whispered. She kept her eyes on
a student struggling at the center water basin. "But call me Rox."

"Tess," she replied.

"How long have you been doing water?" Rox murmured.

Tess hesitated, unwilling to admit that it had been her
first attempt. "Not sure," she said, sidestepping the question.
"You?"

"Since I was little," Rox laughed under her
breath. "I used to surf in my pool when I was younger."

Tess threw Rox a sidelong glance. Of medium build and body,
Rox sported a shimmering mane of light red hair. Her skin was fair, and her
nose and cheeks were dusted with freckles. The result gave her a pixieish look.

"What do you mean, surf in your pool?" Tess asked.

The teacher threw them an annoyed look, and they feigned
innocence together until she looked away. Rox answered without turning her
head.

"Auren born, huh? I'll show you sometime on the lake by
the dorms. It’s a great way to practice your skills too."

A smile creased Tess's features. Rox reminded her of Amy
back home. Brusque and businesslike, Rox seemed unaware of the subtle attention
the boys displayed toward her.

"When's our first break?" Tess asked.

"Too much homework already?" Rox said, a trace of
disappointment in her voice. "I suppose we can wait until the mid-quad
holiday. Until then, you want to study with me? Most of the ones here look
they'd have difficulty keeping up."

Tess threw Rox a sharp look, but her expression was sincere.
There had been no trace of condescension in her tone, just a stating of the
facts. But she'd failed to speak quietly enough to avoid the boys overhearing
her. They turned away as if they were offended. Tess wondered if Rox had an
issue with bluntness. She hid a smile, realizing it was probably a trait they
shared.

"I'd love to have someone to study with," Tess
said. She paused as their teacher added to Tess's burgeoning list of homework.
"Should we start tonight?" she asked Rox in an aside. "I feel
like I'm already behind."

Rox stifled a laugh, sending her hair rippling. "All
the schools are like that," she said, covering her mouth to hide the grin.
"Or that's what I hear. I'm the first in my family to attend Tryton’s, but
I've heard the teachers all think theirs is the only class that matters."

The teacher rounded on them, and Tess jerked to face her.

"Roxanne, Tess, since neither of you seem to have the
time for water now, you can have it later—in detention. I understand the pools
in classroom seven need cleaning. See to it by Friday."

They nodded in unison, but grinned at each other when the
teacher turned away. Inwardly Tess wondered if Rox's offer to study had
anything to do with Tess's flying skills. It felt like their friendship was
tentative, but real enough. She hoped it didn't have anything to do with her
budding fame.

She frowned, annoyed at all the attention she was receiving
because of one gravity class. Throughout her life she'd avoided attention from
others, and actively preferred the social shadows. She hadn't admitted it to
Hawk, but she was afraid of everyone finding out who she was. Then she realized
that the attention on her was just a fraction of what she would face when her
identity became public.

The class ended with her still brooding on her identity, but
she managed to feign excitement for Rox's sake. Her new friend had another
class in the same building, so Tess ducked outside and took off. For a full
minute all she did was soar, and hoped her concerns would be left on the
ground.

When they weren't, she released a sigh and settled into a
glide that would take her to the fire school. She still felt the thrill of
flying, but her thoughts dragged her down. Would she ever be able to just be?
Exist without the pressure to become something more? Her parents had been
relentless about helping her do better in school, and now Hawk wanted her to become
. . . a what? A leader? Someone to join magical and auren peoples together?

She issued a grunt and rolled onto her back. Hovering
several hundred feet off the school grounds, she closed her eyes and relaxed.
For a long moment she just floated. She was pleased that it was taking less and
less thought to fly. Despite her worry, she was forced to admit that without
Hawk, she would have never felt the power of flight—

"Comfortable?" a voice said.

Startled, Tess lost her concentration and began to fall.
Panic engulfed her, but when she clenched her fists her magic gathered on
reflex. A dozen feet lower she came to a stop. Breathing hard in embarrassment
and lingering fear, she whirled to find Drake floating next to her.

"Are you nuts?" She spit the words at him.
"You could have killed me!"

He shrugged and folded his arms. "From what I've seen,
I figured you could handle it. Besides, I would have caught you if you
fell."

Rather than be reassuring, his faint smile made her feel
like he'd caught a number of girls. The look threw gasoline on her anger, and
managed to squelch her fleeting image of his arms around her.

"It's still a stupid move," she said. Then she
spun and began to descend.

He kept pace easily, unfazed by the heat in her voice.
"Have you ever felt anything like it?"

Caught off guard by his question, she stopped.
"Flying?"

He nodded. His sapphire eyes were earnest enough to smother
her anger.

"There's nothing like it," She said.

His gaze held her fast. "Could you ever go back?"

She shook her head, frozen by the look on his face. "I
could barely sit in class."

He looked away. "Magic is what makes us who we are,
Tess, and flying is more than just a way to travel. It gives us a perspective
of the world that most will never know."

"What are you saying?"

His eyes flicked back to hers. "That we see more because
of what we can do. It's why Auroraq does so well. Flying in the clouds . . .
changes you. It makes you feel a greater sense of obligation, a greater sense
of responsibility."

"All this just because we can fly?"

His expression was sober. "Yes." He turned and
began to descend toward the fire and gravity buildings. The move forced her to
keep up, and when she did, he asked, "I would like to show you something on
Saturday. Can you clear your schedule?"

"What makes you think I'll come?"

He came to a halt above the fire building. "Because you
are curious—and talented. Or perhaps I just want to see you more." He
flashed a grin.

Her heart fluttered, and she felt betrayed by it. Despite
his statement and smile, she got the sense he was hiding something. It wasn't
tangible, but the glint to his eye and the curve of his lips made her feel like
there was. Possessive, was the word that came to mind.

"Where do you want me to meet you?" she heard her
mouth say, and felt a rush of anger at herself. Reining it in before he mistook
her expression, she fought to keep her face disinterested.

"At the practice stadium south of the school. Just
follow the crowd."

Her annoyance surged. She'd thought he meant just the two of
them. Had she misunderstood his intention? Or had Drake deliberately misled her
so she would come?

"What makes you think there will be a crowd?" she asked.

"Because it's the tryouts for Tempest." His grin
was maddening. "And there's always a crowd."

Before she could respond he turned and accelerated away. A
dozen feet from her the gauntlets on his fists burst into fire and he rocketed
out of sight. Irritation, curiosity, and attraction all warred for her
attention. Lost in thought, she descended to the front steps of the fire
building.

Alighting amid a small crowd of girls, she overheard them
chattering about Drake. Sensing their animosity directed at her, she strode
through the doors with a smile on her lips. She was grateful that only part of
her was pleased at Drake's attention. The rest of her was more amused at the
girls’ behavior.

Unwilling to relinquish her magic, she stayed off the floor and
pretended to walk to class. Arriving just as it was about to begin, she sank
into a seat at the back, and reluctantly released her power.

A minute later the doors closed and a man stepped into the
room. Dressed in a flowing, dark red cloak, he strode to the focal point of the
room and turned to face them.

His skin was dark, and when he spoke, his accent sounded
foreign. "I am professor Freeson. Welcome to fire magic. I am sure all of
you have managed to spark a flame in your hands, or maybe even a ball of fire—but
I will be the first to say that you are at least two years away from a fire
gauntlet charm."

He surveyed the crowd with an almost surly expression, and
then swept a hand at the inferno raging in the pit behind him. "But long
before you learn to master fire, you must learn to master heat. Therefore, a
heat-shield spell is the first ability you will learn. For some of you, it will
take six months to truly master it. For others, you will be able to walk
through this fire within this quad. Either way, you will not be learning spells
until you can shield yourself and others around you, and can extinguish a full
blaze on your own."

A smattering of grumbling swept through the room, but
Professor Freeson ignored it. “To begin, each of you will use your glasses to
write the properties of a heat shield from your textbooks. Then you will take
turns approaching the fire. Now, some of you will try to walk through the fire
without the spell. To them I say this. Get burned in my class—and you will do a
week's detention. Burn someone else, and you will do a month. Am I clear?"

Professor Freeson called the first to evaluate their skill,
and Tess relaxed. She knew what she was supposed to do, so she allowed her mind
to wander. It didn't take long for her thoughts to turn to Drake. Two questions
lingered the longest.

What was Drake's intent?

And what did she feel about him?

Chapter 15: Revelations

After feigning a lack of skill in Intro to Fire, Tess reluctantly
descended to the bottom of the fire building. It wasn't that she didn't want to
practice fire, she just wanted to return to the sky. Three levels down she
found the practicum chambers.

Eight long corridors led away from her like spokes on a
wheel. Flameless torches were bracketed into the walls, flooding the hallways
with light. Shaped like giant faces, oval doors bordered both sides of the
hall. The metal surface curved out to form lips, eyes, and a nose. Tess walked
to one of them, but as she neared the face spoke first.

"This one's occupied," the face said.

The voice was male and sounded like rust, but wasn't harsh.
She moved to the next in line. The metal eyes blinked at her, and then spoke in
a matching tone.

"I don't see a knot, student. Only class five fire
mages are allowed to practice on their own."

Tess ignited fire across her forearms, and then said.
"Will this do?"

The metal lips curled into a smile, and the rusty voice
replied with amusement. "Of course, Master."

Tess was taken aback by the response, but the metallic face
was already melting into the door. She stepped through when it swung open.
"Keep it locked, would you?"

The lips pushed out of the metal to reply, "If you
desire. Have a good practicum."

The door closed behind her, leaving her in a square chamber
of black stone. An orb of fire was recessed into the opposite wall, and was the
only adornment. With a sigh, Tess donned her glasses to look at the list Hawk
had sent her. Then she set to work.

An hour later she emerged hot and tired, but pleased with
her progress. The door said farewell, to which she responded. On the way to the
surface she pondered on her conversation with a door. Had she already accepted
such things as normal?

A smile creased her features as she stepped outside, and
without hesitation she took to the skies. She only made it a short distance off
the ground before a wave of weakness assailed her. Returning to the path, she
suppressed her irritation and made her way through the gardens to the west meal
hall. Gathering a plate of food, she moved to what was quickly becoming her
usual table.

Famished, she had downed her first plate and returned for
seconds before Derek and Iris showed up.

"Hungry?" Derek said, his eyebrow peaking.

She flushed. "I learned to fly today and haven't spent
much time on the ground. Is it always like this?"

He shrugged and settled into his seat. "From what I
hear, yes—at least in the beginning. Also from what I hear, you're pretty
stunning in the air."

She was grateful his tone was more teasing than amazed. It
made her feel like he wasn't planning on treating her differently. She also
caught the double meaning of the phrase, but passed it off with an airy wave.

"People are so easily impressed." She grinned, causing
him to laugh.

"I'm sure the flying was pretty epic, but how was the
rest of your day?"

His question was honest, and as they dug into their lunch
she filled them in on her other classes. Iris interrupted a few times to
comment, although her words made little sense. Upon hearing about Tess's
detention, Derek nearly snorted food through his nose he laughed so hard.

"Detention on your second day?" he asked when he'd
recovered. "They usually take it easy on first quads. You beat my record
on your first term."

"He got detention on his third day," Iris said in
an aside, and then returned to her World of Warcraft game.

"What did you do?" Tess asked.

"It's possible that I was involved in a plot to
fill one of the earth professor's offices with dirt."

"You?" Tess asked, her eyes going wide. "I
didn't peg you as the sort to pull pranks."

"Hey," he said, pretending to be stung. "What
does a guy have to do to gain some respect?" He shook his head in dismay.
"Anyway, my participation was never proven."

"Then why did you get detention?" Tess asked.

"Because the room was filled in less than ten
minutes," Iris said, turning her full attention on their conversation.
"And only three students in the nearby classes could have done it."

"Oh, to be the unfortunate one to get punished,"
Derek lamented.

"All three got detention," Iris said, a laugh
dancing in her eyes. "The teacher was livid. You should have seen the
veins on his face bulge . . ."

"Now how could you have possibly have seen
that?" Derek demanded. His eyes nearly popped out of his face. "You
weren't there. It was only my first quad."

She shrugged and turned away, her eyes glazing again. Derek
began to laugh, deep and rueful. "I've known her since she was a baby, and
she never ceases to surprise me," he said.

Tess laughed as well, and together they finished the meal.
Once satisfied, the three of them left the dining hall. Outside, Tess declined
Derek's invitation to visit the leisure hall.

"As much as I would like to see it, I already feel
behind on homework." She made a face. "Maybe later this week?"

"I'll hold you to that," he said with his
signature laugh.

As he turned away she breathed deep of the twilight air, and
cautiously lifted herself off the walkway. Elation burst through her as she
felt her magic surge, powerful and strong.

"I'll meet you in the room," Tess said to Iris,
and then exploded upward. She arced her way above the lake, and flipped over
the tops of the trees. Then she swept in a great circle around the dormitories.

Gardens stretched away below her, separating the dormitories
from the schools. The setting sun cast the flowers and streams in amber and
gold. A late afternoon breeze caressed the plants, bending and swirling leaves
as it swept through the vegetation. Her vantage point provided a stunning view,
but it merely inspired her to remain in the air. Banking and rolling, she
released a cry of giddiness before plunging into the dense foliage of a
dormitory tree.

Catching a branch here, twirling to avoid a cabin there, she
weaved through the darkened limbs and pinpoints of light that marked the dorms.
She burst from the leaves on the opposite side and turned straight up. A moment
later she alighted on the back porch of her room.

"I'll never get used to that," she said to Iris,
who had beaten her there. Then she noticed that Rox was also in the room.

"Nice flying," Rox said from Tess's desk. "I
didn't realize you were a flyer."

"She learned today," Iris said brightly, and then
laughed into thin air before turning away.

Tess laughed as well, but realized she had no idea if Iris's
humor had been a result of her own comment, or someone else's. "Sorry
about not telling you," Tess said, turning to Rox. "I'm still getting
used to all this."

"Oh, no worries," Rox said with a dismissive wave.
"Most flyers want you to know what they can do. It's refreshing to
talk to one who's not so conceited. Still, it's good to know that you are the
one everyone is talking about."

"Is it that bad?" Tess asked, sinking onto her bed
with a sigh.

"You'd think our Tempest team had just won the
International."

"The school threads are chattering about you,
too," Iris said. "They want to know who you are."

If they only knew, Tess thought. "I'm just glad
I get to fly. I can't imagine a better magic to wield."

"Except for techno, of course." Iris said it like
it was glaringly obvious. Then she began to argue with someone in France about
something called a Trekinsol.

"So you want to get practicing?" Rox asked,
flipping her hair. "I only have an hour before I have to meet
someone."

Tess told Iris that she would be back soon, and then
followed Rox out the door. She would have liked to fly down, but it felt rude
to do so. She hoped Iris didn't blame her for doing it after dinner. Once they
reached the ground, Rox led the way to an overlook that reached a short way out
onto the lake.

Tess turned and asked, "So what now?"

Rox eyed her strangely, and then said, "You've
practiced orb skills, haven't you? Of course you have, after the shaping you
did at the testing today."

"It's . . . been a while," Tess said.

Rox laughed, sending her red hair rippling. "You and me
both. But it's a good place to warm up." She gestured to the lake, and a
ribbon of water streaked toward her. With a flick of her wrist it formed into a
ball in her hand.

Her face a mask of concentration, Rox tossed the ball into
the air, and then rolled it up her arm. The second time she tossed it into the
air it began to wobble. Rox growled when it disintegrated. She scowled as it
drenched her shirt, and then she pulled the water from her clothing. Beads of
liquid coalesced from the cloth and dripped to the ground. When she was done
she sighed and gestured to Tess.

"So? I should have practiced more. Let's see you do
better."

Tess accepted the challenge, and after a few seconds managed
to collect a ball into her hands. She tried to toss it between her hands, but
it lost its form on the third try. Rox laughed at the attempt, but the humor
was directed at both of them.

"I'm glad you suggested we start tonight," Rox
said, pulling more water to try again. "We can't let our first week be our
best showing, can we?"

Tess nodded in agreement and tried again. They laughed
together when they both ended up soaked. After several more attempts, Tess
said, "You said you're the first in your family at Tryton’s, but you seem
to know a lot about it."

Rox shrugged, her eyes on the ball of water she was
gathering. "Doesn't everyone? My dad went here ages ago, but he's a rock
mage just like my brothers. I take after my mom's side of the family. Besides,
my boyfriend has been here a year and a half."

"What school?"

"Music and Sound, actually," Rox said, "and
you should hear him sing." She sighed and lost her concentration.

They were silent for a moment as they both focused. Then Rox
asked, "What about you? Dating, siblings, magics?"

"In that order?" Tess asked.

"Of course," Rox exclaimed with a grin.

"Not currently to the first and none to the second. So
far I can do grav, fire, and water."

"So far?" Rox asked her eyebrows rising.

Tess could have kicked herself. She'd been so busy trying to
hold the water together she hadn't been paying attention. "I . . . can
move air—sometimes."

"A secondary, huh? Too bad it's not a primary. You
could've been a class three flyer."

Tess was relieved she hadn't given herself away.
"What's a secondary?"

"It's when a mage can occasionally see or do a little
of another field. I think it's somewhat common, but you can't join a school
unless you demonstrate enough power at your presenting."

"Can a secondary develop into a primary?"

"Doesn't happen often," Rox said. "It's like
an ability that's just out of reach. No matter how much you practice, it won't
get better."

Tess grunted in acknowledgment, wishing she could just tell
the truth about herself. Prior to Tryton’s she'd never really hidden herself
before, and she found the dishonesty unsettling.

"What do you think about the upcoming vote?" Rox asked,
changing the subject.

"I don't know enough to have an opinion," Tess
said. "I just learned about it a few days ago. It's about taking magic
public, right?"

"You should have seen the council's faces when the chancellor
proposed it. I thought the high chancellor was having a heart attack."

"Did Gerik support it?" Tess asked. She recalled
his name had been mentioned as the youngest member ever of the council. It made
sense to her that a younger person would have more radical views.

"No," Rox said, surprise in her tone. "Gerik
is actually adamant that it not go through. He's been speaking out against the
vote. I think it was Chancellor Ranson. He's an older fellow, and to be honest
I was surprised he was so forward thinking. In the past he's bordered on
stupidity, or at least that's the way my dad says it."

"What does your dad do?" Tess asked, grateful that
moving the ball of water was becoming easier. She smiled as it corkscrewed
around her torso without dissolving.

"He's an upper level battlemage, so he's always off on
assignments for them. About a year ago the Mage Security Bureau promoted him to
Rayth, and he deserves it. He's awesome at stone magic."

Tess grabbed a new ball after her current one exploded into
a tree like a water balloon. The name sounded familiar somehow. Then she
realized it had been mentioned in her History of Magic book. "Weren't the
Rayths a sort of cat?"

She nodded, her attention on the large ball of water
hovering in front of her. "They were the worst kind, except for the
tigrons. Now they are nearly extinct. The elite battlemages are named after
them. The Rayths are like the auren's Special Forces—only with magic."

They were silent for a while as they both focused. Then Rox
asked, "How much can you do with air?"

Tess's ball struck her in the face, causing Rox to laugh.
Distracted, hers did the same. They laughed at each other and dried themselves
off. In an effort to avoid the topic, Tess spoke first.

"Do you think the vote will go through?" she
asked. She did her best to keep her voice neutral. She couldn't afford a second
slip-up.

"I doubt it," Rox said. "There are too many
on the council against it. We've been in hiding too long for us to step into
the open so easily. Besides, Ranson has always talked like mages are better
than aurens, like we deserve to rule them. I guess that's why he wants to
change the status quo. He's certainly tried to become the High Chancellor
before."

When Tess had first heard about the vote she'd felt odd. Now
she realized why. The motivations and the manner in which the mages came out of
hiding would make the difference between a massive war and a peaceful merging
of peoples. But was a peaceful merging even possible? Wouldn't ignorance and
fear cause aurens to start a war before the mages did?

The questions carried no answers, but they did leave Tess
feeling like she understood why her role carried such weight. If she made a
choice—in either direction—it could tip the scales. Abruptly she wondered what
Hawk was doing to prevent a conflict, and wondered if there was any more she
could do to help.

Distracted, her next few attempts became increasingly worse.
Rox laughed it off and said they could meet the next day for more practice.
"An hour a night should keep us at the top of our class, don't you
think?"

Tess nodded and said goodbye, feeling discouraged and
worried. What would a mage war do to the world? She felt a chill, as if the
night had brought an icy wind.

She knew exactly what it would do.

Chapter 16: Tempest

"Come on," Derek said. "The practice field is
south of the class buildings."

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked, hastening
her steps to keep up with him. After hearing that she was going to the tryouts,
he'd been insistent that they go together. His excitement was contagious as
they followed the southern path. "Just give me a hint, would you?"

He must have heard her exasperation, because he relented
with a grunt of laughter. "There are several sports that mages play, but
Tempest is by far the most popular."

"Why?" she asked, eager despite his reserving the
truth.

He came to a halt and spun to face her. "Because it’s
the only one in the air," he said, his grin widening. "Tempest is the
game for flyers."

Her eyes widened at the prospect. In the last week her
flying had only gotten better, and more comfortable. But a game? She'd never
felt the inclination to play soccer or volleyball, but the idea of competing
off the ground sent her heart racing. She plied Derek for answers but he
refused her efforts.

"It's much easier to show than explain," he said.
"Trust me."

Forced to wait, she tried to be patient as they walked
south. The path that Derek followed wound its way through fountains and lush
gardens and then a wide field of blue grass. As they progressed, more students
joined them, so by the time they reached the schools they had to slow their
pace due to the crowd.

"Tempest tryouts are always like this," Derek
said, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Is that where you study?" Tess asked. They were
passing into the shadow of the mountainous earth school on their left. On their
right was a structure that resembled the dorms, except the branches held large
classrooms instead of individual cabins. She assumed it was the plant school.

He nodded and swept his hand at the enormous stone doors inset
into the mountain. "I’ll give you a tour sometime. It's the largest school
building, and the inside houses the biggest practicum rooms as well."

"Why?" Tess asked.

"Because most earth and stone mages end up building or
maintaining structures. We need the space to practice."

"So you're a construction worker?"

He flashed a look at her, and then laughed when he realized
she was teasing him. "Close enough," he said. "But for us it's
more like art. Buildings are fashioned from our will, not our hands,
remember?"

She chuckled, pleased she'd managed to get a rise out of
him. A moment later they stepped out of the earth school's shadow and the arena
came into view.

Although it was obviously recessed into the earth, the
gigantic bowl rose several stories into the air. Massive arches of white
supported the stadium's seats. Large gaps separated each section. Visible
through them, Tess caught her first glimpse of Tempest.

Her eyes widened as she saw a comet fly by. Then two figures
zipped across a gap between stands. A moment later they soared past the next
space before disappearing once more. An explosion of fire sounded, causing a
tremor to cascade through the ground. An eruption of cheers followed,
indicating that they had not arrived in time to see the tryouts begin.

The crowd surged forward, carrying Derek and Tess with it.
Caught up in the excitement, Tess found herself carried through one of the gaps
and into the bowl. The crowd split to either side as the students moved to sit
in the adjacent sections. Deposited next to a glowing shield, Tess stood rooted
in place as she witnessed the game.

Easily two hundred yards across, the arena was even longer
from end to end. Dominating the massive oval, several planets floated. The one
closest bore shimmering rings circling its middle, and it even had a miniature
moon orbiting it.

A smattering of smaller objects floated among the larger
spheres. Three of them glowed with power and resembled the sun. Two of the mini
suns hovered at the ends of the arena, but the third sun was larger, and rested
in the exact center. With the depth of the bowl it placed the orbs at close to
Tess's level. A handful of rocks soared like a belt around one side of the
arena. By their irregular shape and rocky surface she would have called them
asteroids.

The last object was the comet she had seen earlier. Curving
near the north wall it swung back toward the center, streaking across the arena
fast enough it didn’t take long before it reached the shield. It ricocheted off
its glowing surface and rebounded at a different angle, almost grazing the
largest planet. Encasing the entire game, the faint shield covered the playing
area like a gigantic bubble.

A flash of movement caught her attention and drew her gaze
to a pair of flyers soaring around the second planet. Dressed in blue, the one
in the lead ducked and spun into a looping barrel roll. He leaned down as he
did, grasping the board attached to his feet. The one dressed in red launched
several balls of flame at him, but none connected. The blue flyer deftly
twisted and dodged each attempt.

Abruptly the blue flyer performed a flawless back flip and
arced his board toward the red player's head. The red tried to evade, but the
blue launched a blast of flame that struck him square in the chest. Instead of
bursting into flame, the red tunic absorbed the fire and transferred it into
the board at his feet.

The board faded from silver to black and turned of its own
accord. Like a slow moving arrow it went toward the wall below Tess, and she
leaned over the rail to watch it glide to a stop on a shelf she hadn't seen
before. The flyer in red cursed as he tore his helmet free and jumped off his
board, which remained floating where it had stopped.

"He's disabled for two minutes," Derek said,
catching Tess by surprise. "He should have known better than to go after Kyle
by himself."

Derek grinned at her expression. "Don't worry, you’ll
pick it up pretty fast. The game is actually fairly simple."

"How can any of this be simple?" Tess demanded.
She motioned to the comet that was coming their way.

He laughed, and gestured to the stands next to them.
"Let's find a seat and I’ll explain."

She followed him to a free pair of seats, and waved when she
saw Mike and Laura a little farther down. Both returned the gesture, but their
attention was glued to the battling flyers. They wore spectacles and were
speaking in hushed tones to a small crowd around them. Tess smiled, and
wondered how many marks they were succeeding in gathering. She had to look away
as Derek launched into an explanation of Tempest.

"Teams start with twenty-one players," he began.
"A captain and his squad. To play you must be a class two flyer, meaning
gravity, and either wind or fire as a secondary talent. The fire mages can
strike their opponents with fire. One hit, and you are out for two minutes. A
second means five, and a third puts you out of the game."

He paused and pointed to a flyer that blew past a trio of
battling mages. In a blur of blue she split the fighters and curved under a
planet. In her wake a miniature tornado drove her almost as fast as the comet.
"That's a speed flyer," he said. "They use air magic to go
faster than the battle flyers can go.

"There are two ways you can win. The first is to
eliminate the flyers on the opposite team. The second is to capture their
star." He pointed to the twin orbs, pulsing at either end. "The stars
are the only thing that can be moved by the flyers. Everything else has a fixed
position, or a designated path like the comet and moon."

"What's the larger orb in the center?" Tess asked.

"That's the sun," he said. "Every
constellation has at least one, but some have more. Battle flyers can draw
flame from their own star, the enemy star, or the sun at the center."

"What do you mean constellation?"

"There are several configurations of the planets,
asteroids, stars, etc. Each one is named after a constellation. This one is
Scorpio."

"What about the teams?" Tess asked. "How many
battle and speed flyers are on each? And are there positions, like in
football?"

"The only rule is that there must be at least one of
each, speed and battle. Few teams dominate without a balanced team, though. As far
as positions go, every team kind of has their own strategy. There are a handful
of common roles though."

He began to point to various people soaring through the
arena. "That's the Watcher, he guards the star. Some teams have more than
one. Those are Detonators. They are very skilled with fire, and lay traps that
explode if you get too close."

As if on cue a speed flyer skated off a planet’s rings and
dodged a fireball. Jerking to the side, he soared close to a tiny black dot.
The dot burst into a massive explosion, enveloping the speed flyer in an
instant. The flyer burst from the smoke cloud with ash darkening his clothing.
His now black board carrying him to the side.

"That's a Striker," Derek said, pointing to a
battle flyer launching balls of flame from the gauntlets on his wrists.
"They are usually upper level fire mages that have mastered the fire
gauntlet spell. They go after the enemy in groups or on their own. Of course,
everything depends on the team's strategy."

"This is . . . " Tess struggled to find the right
word, and then shrugged when she failed to find one.

Derek laughed again. "I know how you feel. It's a lot
to take in." Then he nudged her. "What about you? Do you think you
will try out? You have earned your grav knot. You would just need a fire one now."

Do they let oracles play? "Perhaps," Tess
said, dodging the question.

"I'm sure you’ll do fine," he said with a
dismissive wave. "Just promise me you’ll give me a ride on your board when
you do."

She threw him a questioning look, to which he laughed.
"A cousin let me try it once, and it was the best five minutes of my
life—even though we stayed within ten feet of the ground. Technically even
that's illegal, but I pestered him until he let me."

He gave a rueful laugh. "I should just stick to dirt.
That's what I’m good at."

Tess nudged him, eliciting a smile. "If I ever get one,
I promise you can play with it."

His grin widened. "I'll hold you to that."

Their conversation was interrupted as Drake soared close to
them. He slowed when he reached the shield. At a much slower pace, he glided
through the barrier. It shimmered and allowed him gradually through. A cheer
went up from the onlookers as he glided above the stands.

He grinned and raised his voice. "The next group may
now collect their game boards and join us in the arena. After them, we will
post the ones selected at the meal halls, as usual."

He spotted Tess and banked his board toward her. In a flawless
motion he swerved to a stop above her. He flashed a dazzling grin. "Meet
me after the tryout, would you?"

Tess didn't feel like she could decline the public
invitation, so she nodded. Ignoring the calls from several other girls, Drake
grinned and returned to the arena. As he blasted away a handful of students
descended to the shelf and prepared themselves for battle. Derek turned to
Tess, surprise on his face.

"I didn't know you knew Drake so well," he said.

"He invited me to the tryouts," she admitted.

His brow furrowed and he grunted, but he didn't say
anything. For some reason she felt uncomfortable, and that annoyed her.

"Don’t you like him?" she asked.

"What's not to like? He's handsome, a flyer—and very
powerful, not to mention he's the captain of the greatest team in the history
of the sport."

"So . . . no."

"Of course not," he said, his brow creasing.
"The guy is as arrogant as they come."

"Jealous?" Tess asked, a teasing smile on her
lips. Although part of her felt the same sentiment, she knew the rest of her
stirred every time he approached.

"Of him?" Derek scoffed. "Talent doesn't make
the man."

"Where did you hear that?" she asked.

"My father."

"One of the many quotes he liked," Iris said,
plopping into a seat next to them. Then she grumbled under her breath and
slapped the wall next to them.

"I thought you weren't coming," Derek said.

"I am female, aren't I?" she said. "Just
because I'm a techno mag doesn't mean I can't appreciate certain players
displaying their physique and talent."

Tess burst into laughter, grateful for the interruption.
"Glad you could make it."

Iris smiled, and then faced the wall to tell someone off for
interrupting them. While she was distracted Tess watched Drake blast three in
quick succession. He then flipped over a bomb and launched a fireball at it. It
detonated, catching the two pursuing players as they curved around a planet.

Tess couldn't help herself. She was impressed. His skill on
the board was perfect, and instilled in her a desire to perform as well. For a
long moment she imagined flying next to Drake, both of them scorching the
opposing team. The image sent heat radiating through her, but oddly a measure
of hesitation as well. She mentally argued with herself that her dislike for
him had little basis, but it refused to submit.

A few minutes later the tryouts wrapped up as the team
crushed the remaining defenders. To Tess it seemed that Drake favored
destroying the other team over capturing their star. She wondered if that was a
common tactic.

As the dejected players flew toward the bench, Drake soared
through the shield. Flanked by two of his lieutenants, he addressed the crowd
once more.

"Don't forget our first game is in two weeks against
the European team."

The gathered students cheered Drake's words, and Tess had no
doubt that every one of them would be in attendance. Then her gaze slid past
Drake and connected with the boy on his right.

Muscled and tall, he glared at Tess with only thinly veiled
hatred. Fury rippled through his features as their gaze connected. Then the boy
sneered and looked away, but the look was so intense that Tess flinched.

"What?" Derek asked when she twitched.

She glanced at him and feigned a shrug. "It's
nothing."

When she looked back the boy had turned his back and was
flying away.

Chapter 17: Conflicted

Tess waited for Drake, and mentally fought a battle over
whether she should. She'd convinced her friends to leave without her, but after
twenty minutes she had begun to regret that decision. The stands had emptied of
people by the time Mike and Laura walked out together.

"Tess!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Did you enjoy the tryouts?" Tess asked.

They threw each other a look. "Of course. You?"

"It's indescribable," Tess said.

Laura stepped closer and said, "We never got a chance
to tell you how impressed we were with your flying in class."

"It was stunning," Mike agreed, and then winked.
"And not just because we earned a significant amount from it."

Laura frowned at him. "We should give her cut."

His eyebrows shot up. "Why? We never split our
winnings."

"We do if we received a tip,"

"Fine," he said, blowing out his breath.
"Give her ten percent."

"Will that work for you?" Laura asked.

"Er . . . I didn't really give you anything," Tess
said uncertainly, but Mike waved her protest off.

"Nonsense. Laura's right—as always. We'll transfer it
by tonight."

What if it was discovered she had been involved in gambling?
Her caution told her to say no, but she couldn't bring herself to deny them.

"That's fine," she said, and they both beamed at
her.

"Mike . . . Laura," Drake said, striding up to
join them. He smiled at Tess, but his expression was pure ice to the couple.

"Hey, it's the Big Head," Mike threw his arms out
wide in welcome.

"How are the pants?" Laura asked. Her voice oozed
false concern. Tess had to tighten her lips to prevent a smile.

Drake scowled at them, and pointedly caught Tess's hand.
Turning his back on them, he led Tess back into the stadium.

"Sorry it took so long," he said. "I had to
wait until everyone left."

"How do you know Mike and Laura?" she asked.

"Just shared a class once," Drake said cooly, but
his eyes darkened the same way they had to the kid in gravity class.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then Drake
visibly changed his attitude. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" she asked, curious despite herself.

His eyes sparkled with anticipation. "You'll see."

He led her to the shield, and then through it. She feigned
nonchalance as she did, but inside her heart was battering her ribs. It felt
like pushing her way through a layer of cold jello. Drake had also not released
her hand, which may have contributed to her irregular heart rate.

There were no stairs on the other side, but rather than fly
to the shelf below, Drake stepped off the ledge. She stepped off with him, and
together they were caught in a well that slowed their fall. The rune they were
descending toward lit up with purple lines until they touched down. He yanked
her away the movement they did.

"This is where we train for games," he said with a
flourish.

The shelf that she'd noticed from above led to a wide
opening. Embedded below the stands, the vast hallway had numerous doors on
either side, and was well lit by a band of light next to the ceiling.

"What's in there?" she asked, and pointed toward a
large, black door.

He grinned and led her inside. "That holds the school
air boards. Most mages would not stoop to theft, but flyer boards are extremely
expensive. We'll come back to that after I show you everything else." He
pulled her along and gestured to the doors as they passed them.

"That's the bath facilities and the private recreation
rooms. On the right is the training room, which we use to practice lifting
larger and larger weights. At the end is the Leadership Chamber, where we plan
the strategies for our games. It has lightcast models for every constellation,
plus a few other features."

"What do you mean, lightcast?"

"Better if I show you," he replied, and led her to
the end of the hall. He opened the door and stepped through, but he stopped as
a person whirled to face him.

"Shorn, what are you still doing here?" Drake
demanded.

The muscled lieutenant that Tess had seen earlier flushed
and waved his hand at the table in front of him, erasing the image that had
been displayed. A mountain fashioned from lines of white light faded from view.

"Captain, I wasn't aware that you needed the
room," he said. "Or that you had a guest."

The way he referred to Tess caused Drake to bristle.
"Lieutenant, you are dismissed. I will see you tomorrow for
practice."

Shorn's jaw went rigid, but he gave a curt bow and swept
from the room. As he went, it seemed he tried to hide his hand from Tess's
view. The movement caught her eye, and she noticed the mark. Burned into his
flesh, a line had been seared across his hand. The image tugged at her memory.
It felt like a thought was on the tip of her mental tongue, but refused her
effort to recall it. Then Drake sighed, pulling her from her reverie.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Shorn is one of
the best of my team. He's even a split tri-mag. Grav and air are what he's best
at though. He's helped us win some key games."

"Who do you play against?" Tess asked. "Or
does Tryton’s have more than one team?"

He shook his head. "We play the other schools."

"How many schools are there?" Tess asked, and
imagined a flock of giant, floating cities like Auroraq.

"Six, in fact," he said. "Two of which are
underground. One is in the deep north, and has snow almost year round. Another
is on an island out in the middle of the Pacific. Most of the time they are our
main rivals. The furthest from here is in the mountains of southern China. And
then there is the one in Europe. It's in a forgotten castle, and is probably
the best academically aside from Tryton’s."

"How many students are in them?" Tess asked.

He shrugged and ran his hand along the smooth surface of the
enormous table. "It varies, but none are as large as Tryton’s. It's a big
reason why we have the best record in Tempest."

Tess fell silent, her mind struggling to comprehend the shift
in her perspective. For some reason she'd thought that Auroraq contained the
majority of mages. She blinked, realizing that when her identity was revealed,
the other schools would have their opinions as well.

A flickering of white light brought her gaze to the table,
where strands of energy had begun to curve and touch in the air. They merged to
become planets, stars, and asteroids of the constellation she'd seen earlier.
At a touch Drake sent the lightcast model into a slow spin.

"It's beautiful," Tess said as the ringed planet
moved across her field of vision.

"I know," he said with a smug grin. "If the
stone mages are the construction workers, then light mages are the architects.
Beautiful things are designed with light before they are built with
stone—except with you, of course."

"How often have you used that line?" she asked
with a frown.

He laughed and waved at the table, dismissing the image.
"I've saved the best for last," he said, and then led her from the
chamber. Tess's hand tingled as he once again caught her palm in his.

He led her to the black door, and then placed his hand
against its surface. It glowed and clicked. Then it swung open, revealing a
long hallway with liquid silver boards placed vertically on both sides.

He gestured to them with a knowing smile. "Care to take
a look?"

"What do you think?"

He laughed at her sarcasm and led the way down the hall.
"These are basic air boards, which just means they have the standard
enchantments to protect a flyer, but nothing more. We are allowed to use our
own if we want, but only if they are certified by an official prior to a
game."

"Aren't they expensive?"

"That's why most players use the school boards. Ours
are decent for speed and acceleration, and about the best that the game allows
anyway."

She leaned in to examine the surface of one, and grinned at
her faint reflection on its surface. "It must be incredible to use."

"Pick one," he said, "and then I will show
you how to use it."

She spun to face him. "Could I? I haven't earned my
second knot." She couldn't keep the thrill of anticipation from her voice.
Upon hearing it, Drake grinned.

"You have your grav knot, and I am an assistant
professor. You should be fine."

She grinned back, and began to walk down the line.
"Which should I choose?”

He eyed them critically. "I would suggest a battle
flyer's board since you can do fire. It would suit you better. Just look for a
trace of red with your magesight."

She scanned a few, and then picked one with a more tapered
shape. Although it appeared made of liquid silver, it was actually fairly
solid, and almost sticky, as if her hand had suddenly become magnetic.

Drake grinned at her choice. "Nice, but that's Shorn's
board, and made for speed flyers."

"Should I choose another?" She didn't like the
idea of taking his board without asking.

"It will probably be too fast for you. Why don't you
try Natalie's?" he said, and gestured to the one beside it. Once she took
it he led her outside. "You ready?"

He grabbed his own board and led her back to the shelf. Tossing
it off the ledge he jumped after it. He landed neatly and curved the board out
of its fall. Skidding to an aerial stop beside her, he said, "Have you
ever been on a snowboard or a surfboard? Skateboarding is close, but not quite
the same."

"I went snowboarding a few times when I was younger.
The snow was terrible, though."

He smirked and motioned to the board. "I think you'll
find this to be a step up. Just stand on it like you would a snowboard."

She tried to lay it on the ground but it refused, and
remained floating at her knees. Cautiously, she placed one foot near the
center. The liquid silver stuck to her foot quite solidly, and stayed in
position as she raised her left foot as well.

Drake glided in a lazy circle around her, eyeing the placement
of her feet. "You're centered pretty well. Just move your feet a little
farther apart and you should be fine." After she did as suggested, he
nodded in satisfaction. "Ready?"

"How does it move?"

"It's just like flying," he said, "only
better."

He grinned and curved away. Twenty feet away he swerved and
hovered. "Coming?" he asked. A teasing grin spread on his face.

Tess turned her attention to the board at her feet, but
glanced over the ledge. It was at least fifty feet to the bottom of the arena,
so a fall would be fatal. She steeled herself with the reminder that if she
fell off the board, she could fly on her own. With that thought she sent a
fraction of her magic into the board.

The response was instantaneous with her thought, and the
board glided away from the arena shelf. Light reflected off its silver surface
as she moved, reminding her of the sun on a lake. Pleased with how easy it had
been, she poured more of her power into the board, and it accelerated. A grin
blossomed on her face as she leaned forward and sent it rocketing away from the
wall.

Like a bullet from a gun she exploded past Drake and under the
Tempest sun. The speed took her by surprise—but not enough to cause her to slow
down. The first time she'd flown it had felt like the essence of grace. Flying
with a board was a thousand times better. Her whole body tingled with delight
as the wind whipped her hair into a cascade of brown.

Before she knew it she'd crossed the arena, and banked into
a curve. The board wobbled a little, but her memory of snowboarding kicked in
and she leveled out, going parallel to the opposite wall. She began to laugh
and swerved her board into a few experimental turns.

Each adjustment felt natural, like curving through a stand
of trees. The turns sapped her momentum, as if the air held more resistance
than normal. She figured that had something to do with the enchantment on the
board.

Her confidence grew, and her smile with it. Accelerating
into the turn at the north end, she followed the shield wall until she was
facing the shelf she'd left from. Her pealing laughter was dampened when she
saw Drake's face.

Throughout her flight he hadn't moved, but his expression
was neither astonishment nor excitement. Instead his eyes had narrowed, and
there was no trace of a smile. Taken aback by his look she slowed her pace, but
his features had already dissolved into a grin. The transition was so fast that
by the time she blinked he appeared normal.

He sped out to intercept her. "You look like a bird who
just realized it has wings," he said. "How does it feel?"

Unable to shake the image of his expression, she replied
with a snort, "And I thought flying was freedom." Was he forcing
his smile?

He swept his hand at the arena. "This is what flyers
were made for, and the way you take to a board makes me think you will own this
game after I am gone."

They were gliding a short distance apart, but when he swung
closer she jerked away. His eyebrows twitched at her movement, but he didn't
comment on it.

"This is my last quad," he said. "I'm what
the aurens would call a graduating senior." He threw her a sideways look and
then added, "Now . . . why don't we see what you can really do?"

As he finished the statement he twisted around—and then rolled into a slow
corkscrew that carried him over her head. Throughout the backward maneuver, he
stared her in the face, the challenge inherit in his features.

Casually swinging into a stop on her opposite side he swept
a hand at her in invitation. In spite of her hesitation, she couldn't bring herself
to resist the challenge. Gathering her courage, she flipped herself over him.

She overcompensated, and nearly struck him with the side of
her board. He dodged easily and laughed, and then suggested she fly less with her
body and more with her board.

"Imagine the board is doing the work, not you. Let it
do the flying."

She nodded and tried again, and grinned wide as she turned
into a slow roll over his head. He held her gaze the whole way, and her heart
fluttered in her chest. Perhaps she'd just misread his earlier expression . . .

Next he led her into a forward flip, which was harder on the
board because you had to anticipate where you were landing. He then
demonstrated a back-flip and pulled his body into a graceful loop, flying
higher than he had before. She grinned and followed suit, relishing the
challenging maneuvers. After several more they ended up hovering above the
center sun.

Both were breathing hard at the exertion, but the easy smile
seemed to have returned to Drake's face. Spinning in a tightening circle, he
brushed the hair from her face.

"You're amazing, do you know that?"

She laughed, hiding her nervousness. "That's debatable.
Now I just need to learn how to master fire and I would be fine."

Her arms twitched and she almost ignited fire onto her
forearms. At the last instant she recalled Hawk's warning and stopped. Then she
had another idea. "Why don't you loan me your gauntlets and I can try
it?"

"Er . . . not this time," Drake said, his eyes
tightening with reluctance. "How about we leave that lesson for another
day."

She nodded, but he must have seen the disappointment in her
face. In a single move he reached around her waist and yanked her to him. She
gasped in surprise as her feet left her board and landed on his. As her own board
tumbled away he flicked his wrist toward it, and a ball of flame closed the
distance. It turned dark from the heat and angled toward the shelf.

"Next time," he said, his face inches from hers.
"I will show you more."

She swallowed reflexively and stared up into his eyes,
sensing his desire to kiss her. Did she want that? Why didn't she trust him?
The conflicting emotions held her fast as he began to lean in. Then, just as
their lips brushed, she glanced over his shoulder and saw Shorn leaning against
the stands, his face an inscrutable mask as he stared at them. The sight was
enough of a distraction that she jerked away.

Drake's look of annoyance flustered her further, so she
flashed him a small smile. "Next time, then."

With that, she kicked off his board and soared away. She
didn't look back until she was outside the shield. He hadn't moved, but Shorn
had. She scanned the dark stands for signs of movement, but the cloaked figure
had disappeared. Frowning to herself, she curved toward the dormitories in the
distance. It wasn't until she was almost there that she made the connection.

And realized where Shorn had received his scar.

Chapter 18: The Swordsman

The Swordsman watched over cabin 313, checking for any signs
of attack. His hide had been in place before Tess had even arrived, and every
night since he'd been inside it. By daylight he slept, and throughout the night
he kept watch. Exercising the rigid self-control he'd gained in the battlemage
corps, he stayed focused. He'd learned well that vigilance was the key to
defending someone—even
if he'd learned it from the opposite side.

It had been seven years since he had been dismissed from the
corps, but the charge of 'excessive use of force' still rankled. He knew the
men he'd killed had deserved it. His superiors had known, too—so why had he been punished
so severely? His lips tightened as he scanned the exterior of the darkened
cabin.

For the hundredth time he tried to convince himself that it
had been for the best. Within a year he had become one of the highest paid
assassins in the mage world, in spite of his primary rule. He only killed if
the target deserved it. On multiple occasions he'd turned down offers because
the soon-to-be-dead did not meet his qualifications.

Part of him missed those first few years. Business had been
good and he'd been able to forget his parents scorn for his dismissal. That had
all changed when he'd learned who he was working for—and how they had deceived him.

As a rule, he and the handful of other assassins knew little
of their employers, but after several successful contracts the Swordsman had
gotten curious. It turned out the Harbingers did not care for his curiosity,
and had sought to terminate him. Hawk had saved his life, and had informed him
that many of his contracts from the Harbingers had been for good people.

The Swordsman had never felt such fury in his life. He had
been used, and had been manipulated to break his code. Without Hawk convincing
him to wait, his anger would have gotten him killed. He'd refused the
invitation to join the Guild but still felt he owed the man. That—and his desire to kill
Harbingers—had brought
him to his current position.

As his thoughts turned to his hiding spot, he checked the
fabric that surrounded his platform. As he touched the material, it rippled a
dull green and brown. On the outside it appeared as any other section of trunk
and leaves. On the inside, he had a clear view of cabin 313.

The obscurity shroud had cost him a fortune, but it had been
worth it. It had certainly made this assignment easier, especially since he
wasn't getting paid for it. Still, the chance to sink his sword into a few
Harbingers was enough reward.

He grunted and scratched the back of his hand, wishing for
some action. The size of his platform afforded enough space to practice basic
maneuvers, but little else. He considered watching a movie, but knew that would
only distract him. Instead, he scanned the cabin again. Roof, walls, balcony,
door, all were clear. He slipped into his magesight and looked at the front and
rear entry points. Faint purple lines indicated a techno mage had placed
additional protections on the doors and windows, but his skill wasn't
sufficient to figure out what.

He was actually grateful that his techno magic was just a
secondary. If it had been a primary he could have ended up half-crazy like the
rest. As it was, his skill was just enough to connect him to the mage net—and spot techno mage traps.
The latter skill had been quite useful in his profession. It was also something
that no one—not even
his parents—knew about.
When he was a child he'd been afraid of being teased for the shortcoming. Over
time it had become his most valuable secret. Still, he wondered what the
oracle's roommate had put on the doors
. . .

—A flash of movement caught his eye.

Instantly alert, he cast an eyesight charm. Heat, light, and
movement were all enhanced, making it possible for him to see quite well in the
black of night. His gaze narrowed as the cloaked figures came into view.
Floating through the branches, a trio of flyers slowly rotated around the
cabin.

No doubt they were fire and gravity mages, checking for
hidden sentries or wandering students. A faint smile crossed the Swordsman's
face as they passed him by. Among other things, the shroud obscured his body
heat.

Once the scouts were satisfied the others came. An unnatural
stillness filled the trees as the first ones separated themselves from the
shadows. Like a wool blanket over a ringing phone, it dampened every sound in
the vicinity.

The Swordsman nodded to himself as he recognized the
muffling spell. Whether it was cast by a mage or an enchanted object, it was
powerful. A ghost of a smile spread on his face. The implication that they
didn't want to be discovered would actually favor him.

In absolute silence they followed the stairs leading toward
the oracle's door. Another group flew through the trees and surrounded the
cabin. The Swordsman reached to the hilt at his waist and eased the weapon from
the scabbard that extended up to his shoulder. Then he breathed deep . . . and
waited.

The lead Harbinger reached for the front door, purple lines
gathering around his hand as he sought to unlock it, but he never succeeded.
Light and liquid energy poured into him, causing his whole frame to quake. His
hood fell off his head as he shook, revealing his face rigid and his teeth
clenched in agony. His scream went unheard.

The unexpected attack caused the rest of the Harbingers to
hesitate—but the
Swordsman didn't. Casting an agility spell on himself, he leapt through the
shroud and landed on a limb next to his nearest foe. With his magic boosting
his reaction time and speed, he swept his sword through his chest and moved on.
He'd killed two more before he felt the limb underfoot quiver, indicating the
first had fallen. He cast a single glance back to ensure the others were down
as well.

One of the flyers turned to see what had happened, and the
Swordsman leaped out to him. The man looked up in time to see his own
reflection in the black blade—but
not in time to react. The Swordsman rebounded off the man's shoulders even as
he whipped the tip of his sword through his neck.

He leapt into a forward flip as the man began to fall behind
him. Catching a limb with his free hand, he swooped toward the next in line.
The fire in the man's hands evaporated as the assassin’s blade pierced his
heart. As his body slumped the others began to counterattack.

The Swordsman pulled his feet together and slipped between
two limbs, avoiding the fire blasts by inches. Alighting in the shadows of a
lower branch, he sheathed his sword and jumped beneath cabin 313. Leaping and
swinging, he caught a branch on the opposite side and whipped his body around
and up.

Amplified by his magic, his momentum threw him feet first up
the side of the cabin. He rolled his body so his boots touched the wall.
Running backward up the side of the cabin shed the last of his speed. After
three steps his motion stalled, and he took advantage of the moment to reassess
the positions of the enemy.

Most of the Harbingers had rushed to the opposite side of
the cabin, so only two were in sight. One was facing the wrong direction, so
the Swordsman leapt toward the second. Yanking his sword free, he jumped into a
forward flip and landed in a crouch next to the man. With a quick spin he swept
the man’s feet out from under him. The branch quivered as he crashed into it. A
quick blow to his chest ended his silent scream.

Without hesitation the Swordsman leapt to the other, who
began shifting when he felt a tremor in his footing. Before he could turn, the
assassin raked his blade across the man's back. Then he kicked him off the
limb. In silence the Harbinger fell, and in silence he slammed into a lower
limb. The Swordsman moved on, but fleetingly wondered if his last victim had
yelled on the way down.

—A
smaller limb burst free of the shadows next to him. Snapping like a whip, it
caught him on the side of the skull. He rolled with it and went right off the
branch. Forty feet down, the roof of another cabin was layered with shadows.
The Swordsman dropped his agility spell and spiked his strength.

He landed in a crouch, cushioning his landing by magic and
muscle. Then he darted away. Whirling once he was out of sight, he watched a
pair of Harbingers follow his path down. One of them flew but the other stood
on a limb as it carried him lower. Annoyed at the close hit, he targeted the
plant mage first. Sheathing his sword, he pulled a curving, compact object from
a holster under his cloak.

As he raised it to his shoulder, a gray mist blossomed out
the front. Expanding fast, it stretched two feet forward before splitting to
both sides and arcing back toward him. A moment later a string appeared. The
Swordsman levered the handle like a shotgun, raising a short bolt into the
ethereal crossbow. Then he fired.

The plant mage was struck hard and fell off his perch. As he
fell, the assassin racked another bolt into position and aimed for the flyer.
Apparently seeing his companion fall he dived, causing the bolt to pierce his
cloak instead of his neck. The flyer caught his friend and ducked behind
another cabin before the Swordsman could fire again.

The crossbow evaporated into mist as he lowered it. Placing
the stock back into its holster, he retreated to the other side of the trunk.
With his strength spell still active, he leapt thirty feet to a higher branch.
Climbing onto it, he marked the location of visible foes. Then he jumped again.
Like a shard of shadow, he rose through the great tree. Once he was at a secure
perch, he released his strength spell and reactivated his agility. His arms
tingled as he did.

He crouched in the crook of a giant limb to catch his breath
and reassess the situation. With his enhanced vision he spotted nine unhurt
Harbingers. Three of them had collected the dead and wounded, two had withdrawn
a short way and seemed to be scanning the foliage. The rest seemed to be
prowling for him. Then the Swordsman spotted a tenth.

The Harbinger stood frozen with most of his body hidden in
darkness. His stillness triggered alarm bells in the assassin’s mind, so he
quickly planned a course of attack. Just as he leapt away the Harbinger pointed
in his direction. As he did, the sound blanket lifted enough for his words to
be heard.

"He's there!" The sound was a harsh whisper, but
it managed to fill the space. All eyes turned to where he was pointing—and continued to point.

The Swordsman ducked and weaved as limbs whipped toward him,
and then dropped to a lower branch when a strand of ink rope reached for his
neck. How do they know? he thought. Furiously ducking and weaving, he
recalled a contract in North Korea, where his target had been protected by a
sound mage.

That sound mage had tracked him by the sound of his
heartbeat and breathing, stripping the Swordsman of the cloaking shadows. His
lips thinned as he realigned his point of attack. His blood pounded in his ears
as he flipped, ducked and slid past the balls of fire and striking branches. A
moment later he disappeared inside his obscurity shroud. Landing on his
platform, he leapt straight up to a higher branch.

The attacks faltered as the directing sound mage lost track
of him. As the Swordsman had hoped, his passage into his hiding place had
caused the man to lose him. Rushing through the darkness, he counted the
seconds, knowing it was only a matter of time before the sound mage found him
again.

He caught branches, bounced off limbs, and flipped past
obstacles. His chest heaving, he landed on the back balcony of cabin 313 and
leapt to the side railing. Then he drew the stock to his crossbow. Snapping it
to his shoulder he worked the slide even as the weapon coalesced into shape.
Then he sent a bolt to his target, and then another. The Harbinger turned and
pointed at him just as the first hit home.

His eyes widened in shock as the muffling spell
disintegrated. Leaves rustled, men moaned in pain, and the Harbingers’ orders
burst across the Swordsman's ears. After the muted silence the noises sounded
loud, but the assassin’s position was too exposed to pay them mind. Diving into
the shadows once more, he searched for a new target.

The Harbingers withdrew before he could attack again. The
Swordsman settled in to watch. In a matter of seconds the Harbingers collected
their casualties and departed. A water mage even cleaned up a patch of blood on
the stairs. The swordsman frowned at that act, but let them go. To attack them
now would feel like hitting them in the back. It was tempting, but he'd done
his job.

He climbed to a comfortable vantage point and watched them
fly away. The frown on his face deepened. He may have had surprise and tactics
on his side, but the Harbingers had outnumbered him—and had been skilled. The Swordsman had
expected them to go after him with a vengeance. A single light mage could have
lit the expanse of tree like it was day. It should have been their first move.
He'd even been prepared for it.

So why had they chosen to fight in the darkness? They had
responded like they were comfortable with the dark, but the Swordsman owned it.
For them to fight that way had only served to give him an edge.

Then a thought crossed his mind, causing him to throw a
sharp look at the oracle's cabin. From the muffling spell, to the removing
evidence of their attack, the Harbingers did not want their presence to be
known. That much was obvious. What was more disturbing was what that implied.

Their secrecy was more important to them than their goals.
The tactic suggested that the Harbingers were not acting out of desperation or
fanaticism. Their moves were too coordinated for that. The speed of their
withdrawal supported that theory, for only with advance preparation could they
have acted so quickly.

The Swordsman considered the ramifications of that until he
felt a wetness trickling down his cheek. He touched it, and it came away
bloody. That plant mage had hit him harder than he'd thought.

On cautious feet he returned to his hide, and then released
all of his body spells. With practiced fingers he used a healing salve on the
wound under his scalp. His lips tightened as the sting faded. Next he withdrew
his crossbow stock and touched a pattern of runes on it. They glowed purple,
and a moment later four bolts floated within reach.

He cleaned the blood off the three successful ones and then
returned them to their chamber. Then he sheathed the weapon. After that he
methodically cleaned his sword and checked its edge. Once done, he sent a brief
message to Hawk before settling back in.

In the dark, the Swordsman smiled.

Chapter 19: Excursion

Tess and Iris joined the milling group of students as they
gathered in the World Room. As Iris talked into thin air, Tess looked at the
statue of Siarra. Hawk had once mentioned that she was her ancestor, but little
else. Looking at her with the lightning on her arm and the sword in her hand,
Tess thought she had a fair idea of the woman's caliber.

Rox stepped to her side. "She's stunning, isn't she?”

Hoping for more information, Tess feigned ignorance.
"What do you know about her?"

"She was born shortly before the Second Draeken
War," Rox said. "And was the Oracle when Draeken's minions invaded.
Half the races of the world perished in a matter of weeks, yet Siarra guided
them to victory. She's also credited with the discovery of gravity magic, and
the establishment of our very own Tryton’s Academy. Prior to her time there
were autonomous mage guilds instead of a united school."

"What about the lightning?" Tess asked. She
gestured to the glowing mark on the statue’s right arm.

"In the final hours of the battle she fought a million
fiends—by herself. Some say that's what happens from using too much power. I
believe she carried it for the rest of her life."

"She sounds powerful."

Iris poked her head between them. "Of course she was.
Without her no one would have lived beyond the invasion."

"Next year is the 10,000-year anniversary of the
fiend's defeat," Rox said, "so I'm sure we will study the war in
History of Magic."

She shuddered, wondering why the comment bothered her. The
reference to the length of time stuck in her head like a cold needle. It felt
important, but she could not think why. She mulled it over for a while, but
didn't get the chance to consider it further.

"Students," a voice called, and all three of them
turned to see Director Grayson himself standing on the other side of the room.
Once the gathering had quieted, he began, "I'm sure you are all excited
for today's excursion. Please remain together as we travel to Sentre. An
invitation to visit the High Council chambers is uncommon, and I expect you all
to be on your best behavior. Now follow me." He turned on his heel and
swept from the room.

Tess and her two friends joined the procession. Once they
were outside Tess felt inclined to take to the air, but suspected Director
Grayson would not consider that the best of behavior. With a sigh she remained
on the ground. It felt like the journey would take an eternity.

"Are you guys ready to get out?" Rox asked.

Tess nodded while Iris waved distractedly. The note on
Tess's schedule marked the first change in five weeks, and she was curious at
the prospect of exploring Auroraq further. Although brief, the note had been
clear.

Please join the rest of the first quads in the World
Room. The council has invited you all for a tour of the Spirus. You will be
excused from your morning's classes.

She asked, "Ever been inside it?"

Rox shook her head. "Not beyond the first two floors. I
can't believe we get to meet the high council today. You rarely see them
outside of their chambers."

"So why do we get to visit them?"

Iris turned to face them. "All I have been able to find
out is that some of the council members wanted to meet the newest quad. That's
all that was in the message to the school."

"Do you normally read the director’s private
messages?" Rox asked.

"Of course." Iris said it like it would be stupid
not to.

Rox raised an eyebrow at Tess and they smothered laughs.
Tess felt a flash of gratitude that the two girls got along. When they'd first
met, Rox had frequently been annoyed by the techno mage's behavior. Iris had
been oblivious to the irritation she had caused.

The animosity had come to a head two weeks after the Tempest
tryouts. While the three of them had been studying, Iris had interrupted to
inform Rox about her boyfriend—who she said was kissing a healer girl. Rox had
been livid at the accusation, but Iris had merely pointed to the painting on
the wall. Its memory had been replaced with an image of Rox's boyfriend—kissing
a girl with a healer's knot.

Rox had stomped from the room without a word. Two days later
she'd returned and apologized to Iris, who didn't seem to be aware of her at
all. She'd been too involved with a thousand-person digital game to notice. But
the two had been friends ever since, and Rox had subsequently joined them at
meals.

Not for the first time Tess wondered how Iris had managed to
get the video. When she'd asked Derek about it he'd simply shrugged.

"It's Iris," he'd said, as if that answered the
question.

However she'd done it, Tess was glad that she had. She
wasn't inclined to give up either one of them as friends. And Rox was planning
on teaching Tess how to surf over the holiday in a few days. Between now and
then Tess just had to get through the mid-quad exams.

"Are you thinking of exams or surfing?" Rox asked
shrewdly.

"Both," Tess said with a laugh. "It's
probably the first time I have ever felt prepared for a test."

"Didn't like calculus, huh?"

"I never made it past trig," Tess replied
ruefully.

"Then don't take Advanced Magical Construction, The
Application of Theoretical Mechanics and Mathematics," Iris said.
"Derek has to take it next year."

"Ouch," Tess and Rox said at the same time, and
then laughed in unison.

"Let's just think about surfing, shall we?" Rox
asked, and Tess agreed.

The water mage launched into another description of what it
was like to surf with nothing but your shoes, but Tess only gave half of her
attention. It wasn't the first time Rox had talked about her favorite topic,
and Tess was preoccupied with the environment.

When Tess had arrived with Hawk on the Terminous, they had
turned immediately toward the school. She'd glimpsed Sentre from the air, but
this was the first time she got to walk underneath the Tryton’s arch and enter
it.

In a mass of chattering students, Tess stepped from
Southpoint and onto Sentre. As they entered the streets, Tess's gaze was drawn
to the trees. Grown into graceful, twisting shapes, they supported an abundance
of pathways, terraces, and high-level overlooks.

Bridges looped like Christmas decorations through the
enormous limbs, and joined the tree rooms, platforms, and offices. The
treeways, as Director Grayson described for the newcomers, connected seamlessly
with the buildings of Sentre. Branches from the greater trees fused into the
sides of structures. Doorways thirty feet off the ground led to the treeways at
multiple levels. The result was a vast, multi-tiered network that exuded grace
and beauty.

For their part, the buildings were fashioned from sparkling
white stone and glass. Each displayed smooth lines and flawless architecture.
Although there were many, they seemed to hide in the background of the lush
gardens.

Waterways laced the paths, their sweet melody adding to the
atmosphere. Winding in twisting arcs, they gurgled their way under and through
great, arching bridges, small hills, and rocky beds. On occasion they rose into
the air and formed bridges or artwork made from flowing water. At one point a
stream defied gravity and lifted out of the ground in a smooth arch. Clear and
smooth, it cascaded over their path before reconnecting with the riverbed on
the opposite side.

She blinked as she realized that the fountain adjacent to it
was actually an office, and that its walls were made of streaming water. Rather
than translucent, the water building displayed vibrant colors as the light struck
its curving surface.

After a short way they entered the shadow of the enormous
tower, and Tess raised her eyes to get a closer look. Standing in the exact
center of the city, the Spirus pierced the sky. The base was an enormous
octagon, but the lines soon smoothed out on its way to the clouds. Like rivers
of light, streams of glass flowed through the white granite. Aside from a few
dozen balconies, the entire structure appeared sheer.

"How many levels are in the tower?" Tess asked,
interrupting Rox's description of how to perform a flip.

Rox laughed in chagrin. "I forgot you've never been
outside of Tryton’s. The Spirus has sixty-three floors above ground, and
contains most of the governing bodies of the Magtherian. The council itself
convenes near the top. The rest of it houses the various departments. Only the
first two floors are open to the public, and represent the greatest collection
of artifacts from our history. Beneath the surface, battlemages guard the
caverns. I have no idea what's down there."

"Six floors are underground," Iris said matter of
factly.

"Do you know what they contain?"

"I wish," Iris said with a snort. "What I
wouldn't give to get an eye down there."

"Just how big is the city?" Tess asked, realizing
they had been walking for several minutes but had yet to see an end to the
treeways.

"I believe the entire city is over twenty square
miles," Rox said.

"Is it always so high?" Tess asked. For a minute
she had forgotten that they were in the clouds.

"It varies," Iris replied. "But most of the
time we hover around twenty thousand feet."

Tess's lips twitched as she realized that it no longer
elicited fear within her. Then she recalled how thin the air was at that
height. She had gone on a hike when she was younger and the higher altitude had
wreaked havoc on her breathing.

"How are we breathing normally when we’re so high?"
she asked.

Rox swept a hand at the cloud that surrounded the city.
"The cloudwall does a number of things. First, of course, it protects us
from being seen, but it also keeps the air within the city more akin to a lower
altitude. The city is always moving as well, but typically flies over North
America."

She smirked and added. "You've probably seen the city
without realizing it," she said. "Or haven't you ever looked at a particularly
dense cloud and wondered what lay inside it?"

Tess fell silent. Over the last few weeks she'd gotten so
focused on her studies that she'd all but forgotten how much she did not know.
How could this have existed without discovery? It seemed impossible, and yet
the way her friends talked it sounded . . . plausible.

"Do any aurens know about us?" Tess asked.

"Of course," Iris said. "But not very many
outside of high ranking government officials. There is even a detachment of the
Mage Security Bureau that protects a few of them."

"Really?" Rox asked. "I didn't realize there
were so many that knew."

"Didn't your father work with the Auren Security Squad
for a while?" Iris asked Rox.

"I . . . didn't know that," Rox said, and looked
away.

"You too, huh?" Tess said with a grunt.

"What do you mean?" Rox asked.

"My dad has worked for the government for my entire
life," Tess said, "but I have no idea what he does."

Her comment seemed to cheer Rox up, and the conversation
shifted. The moment reminded Tess that although she counted Iris, Rox and Derek
as close friends, she had shared little about her life prior to Tryton’s. For
the next few minutes she tried to decide if it was due to her overestimating
their friendship . . . or because she still hadn't accepted that her parents
were not hers.

On impulse she decided to voice her thoughts. "Iris, do
you remember how I said that I was mage born, but auren raised?"

Iris nodded as Rox turned to face her. "Really?"
Rox asked. "I guess I just assumed you were mage born."

"I found out about all of this shortly before I came to
Tryton’s."

Rox frowned. "You kind of made it sound like you had
been doing magic for a while."

"I know," Tess said, "and I am sorry about
that. I broke my binding and nearly torched a building. I guess I was afraid of
what people would expect from me."

Iris began to laugh. "I know what that's like—the torching a building part
anyway."

Rox shrugged. "So, why tell us now?"

Tess hesitated, and then said, "I guess I don't want you
to think I'm someone I'm not—especially
since that's not everything I've held back." She wiped her forehead,
feeling like it had suddenly gotten very warm. "I just need you guys to trust
me, that's all."

Rox appeared confused, but Iris's expression was piercing.
"Can you do that for me?" Tess asked.

After a moment both girls agreed, but Tess didn't like the
look in Iris's eyes. It was the same look she had when she was about to hack into
someone's private messages. For a long moment she met her roommate's gaze, and
hoped she didn't look too suspicious. She already regretted saying anything.

"So if you were mage born," Iris asked slowly,
"then who were your parents?"

Chapter 20: The High Council

Tess was saved from answering as Director Grayson called for
them to board a river train. Flat-bottomed and sleek, the vessel rested on a
wide, curving river. It bore no roof, but it was well shaded beneath the tree
canopies. Its hull was veined with the faint purple lines that Tess had come to
recognize as an indication of gravity magic.

Once they were aboard, the long boat rose into the air and
whisked them along the river's surface. Tess pretended to be fascinated with
the boat, and her friends let the subject drop. As with the terra train, this
one went much faster than she would have expected. Water sprayed into the air
at their passage, and in minutes they reached their destination.

The boat followed the river directly into the lowest level
of the Spirus. It slowed as it went under a massive arch and came to a halt
next to a glittering gold dock. The moment it stopped the students excitedly
disembarked. As Tess stepped off she lifted her gaze to the enormous chamber.

Well over fifty feet high, the first level of the Spirus was
massive. Curving supports arched gracefully to the high ceiling, allowing for
an almost uninterrupted view of the surrounding treescape.  Ringing the space,
a terrace overlooked the ground. Stone flowed like water to embrace it. Both
the arches and the pillars glowed with luminescence.

Aside from the river that had brought them into it, both
levels of the chamber were filled with objects. Without exception all of them
bore the marking of age, and varied greatly in size and shape. The largest was
a statue of a hulking warrior that reached almost to the ceiling, while the
smallest was a simple orb of glass. As the crowd moved between the glowing
displays, Director Grayson began a running commentary.

"For those that are new to the Spirus, I'll give you
some background." He raised his voice to be heard. "These first two
levels are called the Recollection, and contain artifacts and items from
throughout our history. Some you may recognize from your History of Magic
studies."

He gestured to items as he passed, identifying them for the
students. Tess was surprised at the sheer number of artifacts. Although many
were weapons, some were just stones, remnants of buildings, wars, and heroic
individuals. Others’ purpose she could not discern. One was even an ancient
ship, complete with a giant mast and sails.

The group came to a halt at the exact center of the chamber,
where a small section of stone looked like it had been scooped from a plateau.
A black obelisk stood on one end. Its surface was polished to the point of
reflection, marred only by a slanted hole that pierced it near the top.
Sunlight had been reflected to pass through it, creating a beam of light that
came to rest a few inches from the largest sword that Tess had ever seen. Even
with only half the blade visible, it still caused her to shudder. Who could
have wielded such a thing?

"The Second Draeken War Monument," Director
Grayson said, his voice reverent. "It was erected by our school's founder,
Siarra Elseerian, and the legendary Commander Braon after their victory over
Draeken's fiends. When it was moved to this location the council ensured that
once a year a light would shine through, as was intended. With the anniversary coming
up in a few months, you will be learning much more about the conflict. For now,
we should continue to our destination."

With that he turned and strode away. The group of students
followed, but many paused as they walked between the sword and the obelisk. In
a hush, some touched the sword, others the obelisk, but most paused to read the
inscription on the dark surface. Tess peered through a gap in the students and
read it.

For seven days,
the gathered races fought the endless night.

United, we
prevailed.

It felt like the words spoke to Tess more than the others,
and she stared at them until all of the other students had moved on. Director
Grayson's words about the ancient triumph didn't seem to inspire the same
feeling in her as it did the other students. Worry laced with fear trickled
through her, holding her fast until Rox called to her.

Realizing she had fallen behind, she leapt into the air and
soared to meet her classmates. She landed next to her friends just as Director
Grayson came to a halt and turned to face them. Then he gestured to a series of
holes in the ground.

"Use the ascenders one at a time please," he said.

Taking the lead, he stepped into one of the holes. Rather
than fall, he hovered as if he stood on solid ground. "Council
Chambers," he said in a clear voice. In response to his words there was a
flicker of purple light. Barely visible, it resembled a tube between the director
and the ceiling. An instant later the mage soared upward and disappeared
through a hole in the ceiling.

One by one the crowd of students stepped onto the collection
of holes and said the same. Each rose into the ceiling. After a few students it
became obvious which were auren born. Tess wondered if her hesitation would
betray her as well.

When it was her turn Tess stepped onto the hole with only a
flash of worry. She couldn't imagine doing it so easily if she wasn't a flyer.
She announced her destination, but was distracted as Iris slapped the wall
nearby. A moment later she saw the flicker of purple light and her body felt an
incredible sensation of lightness. It reminded her of the moment on a
trampoline when she'd reached the highest point of a jump.

Then she accelerated upward. Floor after floor passed in a
blur of lines. She gathered the courage to reach out as she ascended, but found
an invisible barrier at the end of her reach. At her touch it glowed purple,
reassuring her that she couldn't accidentally fall out. Then the ascender began
to slow, and a moment later came to a stop in a very different chamber.

She stepped off the black hole at her feet and joined the
group of students that stood facing a wide, shallow bowl. Hundreds of seats
filled the ring, and looked down onto a large white table. Five ornate chairs
sat around it as beams of light shone onto them.

The room felt old, as if it had been built elsewhere and
then moved to this location. The walls were of worn stone, and carried a
reddish hue. The council's chairs were fashioned of polished darkwood, and
appeared to be crafted with runes and symbols across their backs. The ceiling
was an enormous dome that looked similar to the Star Hall at Tryton’s. This one
reflected a light blue, making the room feel like it was open to the sky.

Pillars wrapped around the room, and between them a corridor
was visible that similarly circled the chamber. Outside the chamber a more
modern wall had doors leading to offices. Tess was pulled from her examination
as a voice spoke from the side.

"Welcome, students of Tryton’s, to the high council
chamber."

The man who spoke wore a shimmering cloak of deep blue, and
a regal vest of the same color. His features were wrinkled with age, but soft
and kind. His hair was black but streaked with white, and trimmed well.

"I am High Chancellor Anderson." He swept his hand
to the man at his side. "And this is Chancellor Ranson."

The second man couldn't have been more different. Although
they appeared close to the same age, Ranson's face held no trace of kindness.
His hair was white, but appeared dingy rather than pure. Glittering green eyes
bored into each of the students as if he were examining them for potential
threats.

"It seems that Chancellor Gerik has been detained,"
Anderson said with a wry smile, "so you will have to endure my ramblings
until he arrives."

His expression elicited smiles from the students. Beaming at
them, he launched into a description of the inner workings of the high council
as he led them toward the white table at its center.

"Can anyone tell me where this table, the chairs, and
everything else in this chamber are from?" he asked. He swept his hands at
the space.

A girl in the front row raised her hand, and said, "It
was the council chamber in Atlantis until the mages went into hiding."

Tess blinked and leaned in, surprised at the reference to
the fabled city.

Anderson flashed a brilliant smile. "Excellent, and
correct." He began to walk slowly around the table. "Although it
existed two thousand years before his time, the auren philosopher Plato
described the city best. Taking from notes and references from other
historians, he said that the city's founders were half man, and half god—an
obvious attempt to describe the mages who built it.

"He also said that it was a near perfect civilization
with a great naval armada, again referencing the unique ships that the mages
favored at that time. The ships were not built exclusively for war, but for
transportation as well."

He motioned to the table, and its surface glowed to life.
Lines of white swirled into place to display a glittering collection of
islands. Strange ships sailed in the paths between them, and vaguely resembled
the river boat that had carried the students to the Spirus.

"As you can see, Atlantis was a city of concentric
islands that surrounded a large, central island. Widely known for its lush
vegetation, riches, and exotic wildlife, it was a beacon of light for the world
for over a thousand years. Reason, justice, and the balance of law were a
staple in Atlantis, and continued until the Great Mage War.

"For ten years the conflict raged, leading to the
deaths of hundreds of thousands of aurens and mages. Throughout most of it
Atlantis went relatively untouched, but it couldn't ignore the rising tide of
anger. Near the end whole nations declared war on the magical community, and
the extermination began. Mages struck back, but neither side seemed to be
winning. The aurens were too numerous, and the mages too powerful, so for a
time the only victor was death itself.

Anderson passed a hand over his face as if the tragedy was
personal. Behind him, Ranson scowled at the reference.

"In the end the downfall of the city wasn't the armies
that sought to destroy it, it was the arrogance from within. Fortunately for
us, there were still mages wise enough to see that the war had no victor.
Gathering their support, they decided that magic needed to withdraw from the
world. Feigning defeat, the mages gradually retreated to Atlantis, where a
final battle was set to occur. Before it could, the city sank in a single day
and night."

The story had evidently taken a darker tone than Anderson
intended, because he gathered himself and smiled. "Prior to that day much
effort was made to save the rare animals and artifacts; many of the latter lie
in the Recollection to this day. There was also an attempt to save certain
pieces of architecture. This room was one of those that survived, and now
represents everything that we have sought to build. It is an example for all of
us."

"An example that remains unseen," Ranson
muttered, but it was audible enough for Tess to hear. Then he added in a louder
voice, "With our advanced understanding, we have an obligation to uphold.
The aurens suffer while we soar in the clouds. They need someone to guide them,
someone to enforce law, someone to control their—ˮ

"What my colleague means is that we must seek to help
the aurens, where possible," Anderson said. An edge had crept into his
tone that caused Ranson to glower.

Anderson seemed about to say more, but decided against it.
Stepping away from the white table, he changed the subject.

"Can anyone tell me how our government has changed in
the last six thousand years?" he asked briskly.

A skinny boy from one of Tess's classes answered, "The
role of the council shifted."

Anderson smiled as he led the way out of the bowl.
"Correct again. I do believe that your teachers deserve praise. What our
young friend has referred to occurred soon after the rise of the technology
mages." He paused as he caught sight of a tall, thin man walking toward
them.

"Ah, Keidon," he said, "your timing is
flawless. I would like to introduce you to the first quads of Tryton’s . .
."

Keidon ignored him, and walked around him as if the high
chancellor hadn't spoken. His face was distracted and his eyes were glazed. As
he passed Tess heard him muttering under his breath.

Anderson took it in stride with a chuckle. "For those
who haven't met him before, the head of the Bureau for Magical Technology is a
prime example of a technology mage."

His comment elicited smothered laughter from the students.
When it subsided he continued where he'd left off.

"The advent of near instant communication made it
possible for us to end the antiquated system of electing officials to represent
and make decisions for us. Now the council merely recommends laws, and then administrates
and enforces decisions made by the general populace. Once a month the people
have a vote—ˮ

For the fifth time since they had entered the room Iris
slapped a wall, and this time it was close enough to Anderson that it startled
him. He blinked and stared at Iris, who stared back with a vaguely curious
expression.

"Er . . . where was I," Anderson said, trying to
recollect his thoughts. After a moment he sighed and moved to the door next to
them. "This office is for the head of the Magical Transportation Agency,
who . . ."

Anderson guided them past the offices that circled the
council chamber, pointing to each in turn and identifying them for the students.
As he did it seemed that many within the side chambers were annoyed at the
interruption, and a few closed their doors before Anderson reached them.

The behavior could have been written off as just busy people
going about their work, but Tess began to notice that an air of tension
lingered in the council room. Masters of various magics scurried to and from in
a rush, as if something had occurred and they were trying to repair the damage.

The few that paused to speak to the students showed forced
smiles and excused themselves quickly. Others avoided them entirely, their
faces tense and worried. Anderson's introductions became increasingly strained
as they circled the room, so he was relieved when someone approached with a
genuine smile on his features.

"Ah, Chancellor Gerik," Anderson exclaimed,
"I feared you would not be able to attend."

The mage laughed in a dismissive manner. "My apologies
for being delayed, but I could not resist the opportunity to meet our newest
class."

Compared to the other two on the council, Gerik seemed young
and spry. His smile was contagious, and his blue eyes glittered with humor. By
the grins and indulgent looks from the other students it was evident that he
was the most popular of the three—yet Tess felt an immediate reserve when his
eyes slid past her. Their eyes connected for the briefest of instants, but it
was enough to cool Tess's attitude toward him.

The moment was fleeting, but Tess had a difficult time
dismissing it. There was absolutely no foundation for her mistrust of him. His
smile was open and earnest, his eyes bright with enthusiasm and passion as he
spoke to the gathered students. Amid the laughing youth around her, she alone
stood without a smile on her face.

She barely heard Anderson's final comments, or the response
from the students. It wasn't until they were about to depart and Director
Grayson clasped Gerik's hand that she realized why it bothered her so much.

Chancellor Anderson was genuine, that much was obvious. He'd
talked about his children and his wife with pride. Ranson was bitter and
carried the opposite kind of pride. Despite their differences, both of them
displayed a sense of honesty about themselves. Ranson in particular seemed not to
care what others thought of him.

But there was an air about Gerik that he was hiding
something. The feeling was no more tangible than light, but it persisted in the
back of Tess's mind on the return trip to Tryton’s. The thought was based on
nothing more than a chance shadow in his eyes—but as Tess descended to the
Recollection she couldn't shake it.

Gerik hid more of himself then he revealed.

Chapter 21: Night Run

"How can you not like him?" Rox demanded.

Tess had voiced her thoughts and both girls had disagreed.
She shrugged at their response, unable to quantify what she felt. After the
tour Director Grayson had led them back to Tryton’s. Then he'd admonished them
to study for their mid-quad exams and departed.

"I don't know," Tess finally said as they walked
toward the dorms. "There's just something about him that doesn't seem . .
. right."

"Well, he lost his wife a few years ago, didn't
he?" Rox said.

Iris bobbed her head. "I heard about that too. I think
he'd just married her."

"How did she die?" Tess asked. Now she felt guilty
for doubting the man.

"Does it matter?" Iris asked.

"An accident, I think," Rox said with a shrug.
"I think it's what drove him to seek office. He wanted to protect others
so no one would die like his wife. It's Ranson we need to watch. Did you see
the way he eyed the high chancellor's chair? How much more obvious can you
be?"

Tess let out her breath and her tension went with it.
Perhaps she'd misjudged the man. Anyone who loses someone like that was bound
to carry a shadow. Then a thought crossed her mind that caused her to forget
about Gerik.

"What if the chair is what the vote is about?"
Tess asked. "What if he started the vote because he wants to get Anderson
to step down?"

Rox shook her head. "It would be an odd way to go after
it. As far as I know, he has no support yet. But whatever he is up to, it can't
be good. I'm just glad the high chancellor is still on our side. Anderson and
Gerik are the good guys. I'm sure of it. The only time I have ever seen
Anderson flustered was when your roommate kept slapping the walls."

"I know, right?" Iris said with a pealing laugh.
"You would think he would be used to techno mags by now. He sure works
with enough of 'em."

Tess stifled her laughter with a cough and then said goodbye
to Rox. They wished each other good luck over the next two days of tests. For
the first time in weeks she walked up the stairs instead of flying.

Once in the room Tess dived into her studies. If the tests
were only composed of a practicum she would have been more confident.
Unfortunately her classes also had a written test, leaving her to wade through
difficult explanations of how to do magic. After two hours she had reached her
limit.

With a sigh she collapsed onto her bed. It wasn't entirely
dark out, but she felt exhausted. Of her six classes she was confident in all
of them except History of Magic. Figuring she could review the remaining
material in the morning, she closed her eyes and was asleep in seconds.

***

She awoke in a panic. Lurching to a sitting position she scanned
the room, blinking at the lingering sleep in her eyes. With the room darkened
and Iris asleep, it took her a moment to calm her emotions.

Her dream had been of  . . . what? Some sort of darkness attacking
an army. She shook it off and lay down again. She knew she should get ready for
bed, but didn't feel inclined to do so. With an irritated grunt she realized
she was wide awake.

An idea crossed her mind and she tip-toed to her back porch.
Once outside she launched herself into the night air. She closed her eyes and
breathed deep, allowing the cool wind to clear her head.

There was a crisp chill to the night that caused her to
shudder. She drew some heat into her body to compensate, and enjoyed the rush
of warmth. In no hurry, she drifted like a lonely cloud.

At some point she ended up on her back, staring at the
stars. Without a thought to where she was going, she simply coasted. After a
while she flipped over, wondering where she was. The breeze had carried her to
a position high above the World Room. She dropped into an easy dive, but pulled
up short when she saw a hooded figure moving between the scholar statues toward
the city. Curious, Tess angled her path to follow the person.

She reached the tree level and alighted on a large branch.
After a moment’s wait she leapt to one of the statues and hid in the shadow of
its head. She caught up at the edge of Sentre, but was unable to determine the
person's identity. Hooded and wearing a cloak, the only thing she noticed was
that he walked like a flyer. His gait was larger than normal, as if he were
floating several feet between each step.

But why would a flyer be walking so late? And alone? Then
she noticed something else that caught her attention. There was a mark on the
figure's right hand, a burn mark. It was the second time Tess had seen a mark
like that. She stiffened, her mind taking her back to the night she had met
Hawk—and the day she'd seen the mark on Shorn.

Could it be him?

Her jaw tightened with resolve, and she soared soundlessly
through the trees in pursuit. Within the treeways it was easier to stay out of
sight. She stuck to the shadows under branches, platforms, and walkways. Her
quarry looked back twice, and each time she allowed the shadows to swallow her.
More than once she felt the presence of someone behind her, but dismissed that
idea. She couldn't stop herself from looking back, though.

A few minutes later they reached the courtyard surrounding
the Spirus and the number of places to hide was lessened. Tess remained at the
edge of the trees to see what the flyer would do.

He strode to the base of the building and followed its outer
edge until he reached the side opposite the moon. Using the shadow, he stepped
off the ground and flew straight up the side of the building.

Tess dodged to the opposite side of the Spirus and flew up
the lit side, hoping that she could avoid detection for the very reason that
her quarry would steer clear of it. She soared upward with the surface of the tower
a foot from her face. As she neared the top she slowed.

She peeked over the top and saw that the roof was empty.
Since there was no point of egress from within the building, she doubted anyone
would meet there. Hoping she hadn't lost him, she slid over the lip and then
glided across the rooftop an inch above its surface. She froze when she heard a
pair of voices.

The sounds were close, but not close enough to discern their
words. She eased closer to the shadowed side of the building and risked a peek
over the edge. Twenty feet down two figures stood on a high balcony. Both were
cloaked and hooded, but the marked one's hand was visible even in the darkness.
Tess felt a surge of anger, but forced herself to listen to them speaking.

" . . . done as you have commanded," the marked
one said. His voice was quiet, making it difficult to identify, yet there was
something familiar about it. Again, her thoughts turned to Shorn. She strained
her ears, trying to remember how he had sounded.

The other one's reply was muffled and raspy, and sounded
like it came from an older man. To her surprise it too sounded familiar.

"Are you certain all is prepared? You failed the first
time. I don't want the Guildmaster to survive again."

"He was more powerful than we anticipated, and bore
magic that was previously unknown to us. The Master's plan will succeed."

"Perhaps your first failure was for the best. It forced
our adversary to reveal more of himself to us. Regardless, his fate is sealed.
You know what you must do with the oracle."

Tess's breathing caught and her gut tightened. Fear and fury
exploded through her, and it took all her willpower to keep herself restrained.
The marked one's response sounded muffled, as if he'd bowed, so she only caught
the tail end of his statement.

". . . before the term comes to an end."

Tess froze as the statement was pronounced. What did they
intend to do? She craned her head to listen for more, but the older one didn't
seem inclined to pursue the subject.

"Be circumspect, and make sure you succeed. You are
marked from your first failure with her. A third failure will result in a mark
from me."

Third?

She knew they had tried to take her before, but when was the
second attempt? And who had stopped it? There was an audible swallow of fear,
and then the whisper of cloth suggested that he had bowed again.

"As the Master commands," the marked one said.

The older one echoed the statement. Then the two separated.
The older one entered the building while the marked one dropped off the
balcony. The soft breeze replaced their conversation. Tess listened to it for a
while, and then dared to peek over the edge. The balcony was empty.

Her mind burdened with questions, she retreated to the other
side of the building. Then she leapt skyward. As fast as she could go she flew toward
the stars. She did not stop until she could see over the top of the cloudwall.
Then she hovered and looked down on the city, lost in thought.

Who were these people that sought her? And what was their
purpose? They had come for her, but what exactly was their intent? And when was
the second time they had failed? She shook her head in confusion, her mind
turning to Shorn.

She was hesitant to jump to that conclusion, but his
behavior toward her left few other options. He'd been antagonistic from the
moment they had met, and he did have a scar in the right place.

Releasing a troubled breath, she turned in the direction of
the school. She had to fight the impulse to rush, and hoped no one had seen her
path upward. At her altitude she might be mistaken for a bird, but not if she
flew like a mage. Somewhere along the way she decided to ask Hawk about . . .
her enemy. Although she hated to admit it, she could think of no other word to
describe them.

When she was above the dormitories she put her feet together
and plummeted. Wind filled her ears and whipped her body as she fell. Only when
she was close to her room did she brake. She'd slowed too late, though, and
landed heavily on her porch. She darted inside and closed the door. She nearly jumped
from her skin when her roommate spoke.

"What happened?"

"Iris! Do you have to do that? You scared to me to
death."

"Sorry. What happened?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought some flying would ease
my nerves."

"Did it?"

"No, Iris," she said, laying down. "It did
not."

Mercifully Iris did not respond, and after a moment she returned
to her slumber. Her heart pounding in her chest, Tess lay awake for a long
time, wondering when they would come for her again. The next thing she knew it
was dawn.

She awoke to sunlight streaming through the open rear doors.
Her eyes wild, she checked the room, but the only occupant was Iris, fully
dressed and sitting at her desk. She turned when Tess sat up.

"I'm sorry I scared you last night."

Her tone seemed genuinely regretful, so Tess forced a smile.
"It's ok, Iris. I know you didn't mean it."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I hope so," Tess replied, passing a hand over her
face.

Iris mistook her reaction. "You really shouldn't be
worried about your exams today. From what I have seen you will be jumped to the
next class in no time."

It seemed like Iris was once again articulating each word.
It made Tess question how difficult it was for techno mags to suppress
everything they saw.

"I just want to get through the next two days," Tess
said. Then she rose and strode to the bathroom. Discarding her rumpled
clothing, she stepped into a shower so hot it threatened to scald her. When she
finally turned off the water her fear had been replaced with resolve. She
dressed quickly, and then stepped back into the room to find Iris waiting for
her.

"Ready for breakfast?" Iris asked. Again it seemed
she was forcing herself to focus.

"I am, but you don't need to do that, Iris. I know you
are dying to talk to a hundred people right now."

Iris issued a sigh of relief and her eyes started to glaze
over—but Tess caught
her arm. "Can I ask you a question before you do?"

Iris's gaze cleared and she nodded.

Tess had spoken on impulse, but now she hesitated. Should
she ask or not? Then she decided it was better knowing than not knowing.

"Could anyone . . . bad . . . get into a dorm
room?"

"Any dorm room? Or our room?" Iris
asked. Her eyes narrowed.

Tess sighed. "Hypothetically, let's say ours."

"No."

"How can you be so certain?"

"The school has dozens of enchantments to protect the
individual rooms. I, of course, have added a few more to ours. No one could get
into our room without suffering severe bodily harm." She flashed a smug
grin. "It won't kill them, but they would certainly regret the attempt."

Tess studied Iris's expression, and found that she believed
her. Her roommate might be strange, annoying, or crazy, but there was no
question that she was talented. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Iris abruptly pulled her closer, her gaze intense. "You
may be safe in here, but outside of this room you will have to be more
cautious."

"From what?" Tess asked, hoping her feigned
ignorance was believable.

Iris snorted. "How should I know? You're the one that's
afraid."

Iris slapped her back in a comforting manner, but Tess
jumped. It felt like something had stung her. She scratched the spot, annoyed.
By the time she turned back Iris was at the door, her eyes half-glazed.

"Breakfast?" she asked.

Tess let out her breath and followed, her mind elsewhere.

The next two days passed in a blur of exams, studying, and
looking over her shoulder. On more than one occasion she thought she spotted
someone in a hood peering at her, but when she looked again they were gone. The
almost sightings had the effect of heightening her concern, leading her to be
distracted on tests.

She hoped she didn't perform poorly, or worse, forget her
supposed limits and do too well. By the time the exams were over she was more
than ready for a break. She just hoped she wouldn't be killed during it.

Chapter 22: The Magic Melee

Tess banked her aquaboard, sending a spray of water into
Rox. She then laughed at her drenched friend and sped away. Rox was only a step
behind. Twisting and turning, Tess tried to dodge the retaliation, but to no
avail. Rox was too quick. A moment later Tess crashed through a wave and lost
her board. Without its support she was plunged headfirst into the lake.

She surfaced and sputtered for air. Then she summoned a new
one. Five feet underwater the liquid hardened into shape, and then accelerated
forward. It lifted her out of the water as it carried her after her laughing
friend. The fierce interchange lasted for several minutes before Tess called
for a truce.

"Alright!" she exclaimed. "You win."

They had finished their exams the previous night, and so
Tess had met Rox Friday afternoon to learn how to surf. It took an hour for
Tess to make a section of water dense enough to stand on. Once she'd figured it
out, (and dried off from her failed attempts) she'd raced into deeper water in
pursuit of Rox. By then the lake and surrounding area were full of other
students enjoying their first day off in six weeks.

"Fine," Rox said with a laugh. She spun in a lazy
circle around her. "Care to try a double flip?"

"I can't even do one, and you want to try a
double?"

A swell lifted Rox out of the water and powered her away.
Although it was only as wide as her board, the wave crested ten feet above the
lake's surface. Rox balanced skillfully as a mound of water rose up to bar her
path. Using it like a jump, she threw her head back and performed a flawless
double flip. A new water board formed beneath her and she landed on it.
Laughing at the feat, she swerved back to Tess.

"Your turn!" she called.

An idea crossed Tess's mind and she accepted the challenge
with a grin. Then she summoned the water beneath her. Her transparent board
began to quiver as it accelerated after Rox. The wave wasn't as large or as
defined as her friend’s, but it moved almost as fast. Once she was ready, she
jerked her hand ahead of her. A matching mound exploded from the lake, and Tess
angled her path to hit it. She hit the crest with enough speed that her hair
was whipping behind her, and launched herself into a tight flip—but stayed in
the air.

Her board and the two swells dissolved into rain as she spun
three tight flips. Then she soared close to the water and created a new aquaboard.
Landing on it without losing her momentum, she banked hard, sending a
spectacular spray across the Rox's body.

"Three!" Tess said with a triumphant laugh.

"That's cheating!" Rox protested, but she was
laughing. She wiped the water from her face and dried her clothing with a wave
of her hand.

"Who said I couldn't fly?" Tess exclaimed.
"You want to go for four?"

"Not likely," Rox said, and then swept a hand at
the lake. "It's getting crowded, though. You want to get some dinner? I
want to conserve some energy for tonight."

Rox was right. The lake had filled with students over the
last few hours. Together the girls turned toward the lakeshore as Tess asked, "What's
tonight?"

"The Magic Melee. It's a tradition at Tryton’s during
the mid-quad holiday for any students that don't go home for the break. It's a
night game."

"Like capture the flag?"

"What's capture the flag?"

"Never mind," Tess said as they landed on the
shore. "What's the Melee about?"

"It's a free-for-all in the trees around the
dorms," Rox replied. "Anyone can participate, and most that don't go
home join in. I think Derek has even come close to winning before."

"The Melee?" he asked, appearing at their side as
they entered the meal hall. "I took eleventh two quads ago."

"Out of how many?" Tess asked. Eleventh didn't
sound like almost winning.

"I think fifteen hundred kids played that time."

So maybe eleventh was pretty good. "How do you
play?"

"You know how we practice orb skills?" Derek
asked. When she nodded, he said, "You tag people with an energy orb. Once
tagged, you're out."

"No teams?"

He shrugged as he collected his food. "Alliances
typically form early in the game, but break up as it progresses. You can only
have one winner, but occasionally a few friends try to tag each other simultaneously
to end it. Even then it's hard to have a tie."

Tess selected a rose jam, spongy pink ball to add to her
twisted bread, and then collected the ingredients for a glazed BLT. On impulse
she added a dessert scone and its toppings. She sent it through the cauldron
and collected the steaming plate on the opposite side. Then she followed Derek
to their table and sat next to Iris.

"Why is it hard to have a tie?" Tess asked, and
took a bite of her chocolate and strawberry wrapped scone.

"Because the omni-glasses keep score. If you get
tagged, they register you as out of the game. It's incredibly accurate at
determining who got lit up first. Just remember to keep the spectacles on the
entire time. If you take them off, they recognize you as quitting." He
made a sour face. "I learned that the hard way."

Tess was intrigued, despite herself. She'd never really
played night games before, so the prospect of running around in the trees
sounded oddly thrilling. Then again, she didn't think she would stay on the
ground.

"Are flyers allowed to fly?" Tess asked.

"No harmful spells are allowed," Iris cut in.
"After that, anything goes."

"They say that, but getting tagged by a techno mage
isn't fun," Derek said, and then added for Tess's benefit. "An energy
orb by a techno mag is like a ball of static electricity."

"Getting tagged by a fire mage isn't great
either," Rox said. "It leaves a nice little burn."

"So you've played before?" Tess asked.

"Quite a bit," she replied. "But never on
this scale." She sounded eager.

"So when do we start?" Tess asked.

"You can count me out," Iris said. "I have
more eyes to make and a couple of students are behind so I have to tutor
them." Her eyes glazed over and she lapsed into muttering.

"Let's go, then," Derek said. "People start gathering
in the north leisure hall after dinner."

They finished their meal and walked together to the leisure
hall. Tess had previously avoided the leisure halls in an effort to avoid the
scrutiny she'd received early in the quad. As she entered she wished she had
taken advantage of it before.

The leisure hall resembled the dining hall, and had a matching
balcony circling a lower floor. Every inch of the space was crammed with couches,
huge pillows, and other places to relax. Dominating the space, an enormous
frame displayed scenes from the last Tempest game.

She frowned at that. She'd avoided Drake since he'd taught
her to fly on a board, and had pointedly skipped the game. It wasn't that she
wasn't attracted to him, but she couldn't seem to overcome her reserve.

An entire side of a balcony was dedicated to techno mages,
and boasted hundreds of unidentifiable objects. Another looked to be full of
desks for study groups. Next to them the space was filled with games that
resembled pool and ping-pong, but players moved the items with magic rather
than with sticks or a paddle. Opposite them a knot of students appeared to be
playing a type of chess, but most of their opponents were glass orbs. Upon
further inspection she realized that the small balls had faces inside them.

"Are all the leisure halls like this?" Tess asked,
her gaze rising to see the trees through the translucent ceiling.

"Yeah," Derek said. "I can't believe you
haven't been in one yet. It's usually the first place students go to when they
arrive."

"I had other things on my mind," Tess said,
shifting uncomfortably. "So why is everyone gathering on the bottom
floor?"

"They’re getting started," Derek said, and the
three of them found a clear spot against the balcony rail.

One of the senior students stood up and called for
attention. The large painting behind him switched to show him raising his
hands. Once the hall had quieted, he said, "We all know the rules. Tag
someone with an orb and they are out. Hit them with something harder and you
get suspended from Tryton’s. Every twenty minutes your glasses will give you a
casualty report, letting you know how many are left untagged. After that it
will flicker a one second map of everyone's location. The last one untouched is
the victor." He grinned and swept a hand at Drake who was standing nearby.
"And good luck to our four-time, reigning champion, Drake."

Drake flew up to join him amid applause and whispering
girls. Tess's heart fluttered but her lips thinned.

"Last quad's game went until dawn," he said with a
laugh. "Let's see if we can't keep it just as interesting, shall we?"

As everyone laughed, he said, "Game starts at eight
sharp. Then the hunt begins."

Conversation erupted as the students began to file out. It
sounded to Tess like the bulk of talk centered on who was aligning themselves
with who. The exception was Mike and Laura, who stood in a large group of
students in one corner. It didn’t take much imagination for Tess to guess what
they were doing.

She smiled to herself, and sent Laura a quick message asking
if she could put ten marks on Drake for the win. Laura's head popped into view as
she scanned the room. When she spotted Tess, she grinned and gave a nod of
acknowledgment.

"So . . . want to be on my team to start?" Derek
said. "I can put up some rock walls to shield us if you want to hunker
down. The ones who hunt at the beginning usually don't last long."

Rox nodded, her eyes full of anticipation. "Sounds
good."

Tess noticed that Rox's hands were clenching and unclenching,
as if she could hardly contain her excitement. At the sight Tess grinned, and
had to admit she felt the same. She opened her mouth to respond, but someone
grabbed her elbow and spun her about.

"Going to join my team?" Drake asked, and pulled
her to his chest.

Despite the certainty in his face, Tess was uncomfortably
aware of Derek and Rox looking on. That and the image of Drake's expression in
the Tempest arena caused her to lean away.

"I think I'll join my friends," she said coolly.
"Maybe next time."

A few girls gasped at the refusal, but Tess didn't look to
see who. A flicker of anger passed through Drake's eyes, but then he took the
rejection in stride. "Your loss, Tess. Good luck with your . . .
friends."

Tess almost snapped a reply but Drake had already stepped
past her and joined Shorn and a few others from his team. The group took off
and flew through the door as Derek moved to her side. He muttered something
offensive under his breath, but feigned a smile when she turned to him.

"Ready?"

She nodded, and with difficulty reined in her irritation. On
impulse she sent another message to Laura, and changed her bet to Drake losing.
Satisfied, she and her friends left in search of a place to prepare themselves.

***

"How long?" Tess asked, her voice quiet.

"One minute," Rox whispered back.

Derek had actually built three hiding spots near the
southwest side of the dorms. They had quietly done so while hundreds of
students prowled the area in small groups. The light continued to fade, so by
eight o'clock the paths were devoid of motion and light. To Tess it seemed that
everyone was holding their breath, waiting for their glasses to mark the start.

A moment later Tess's glasses switched to eight, and
countless pinpoints of magic blossomed through the trees. Yells and shouts
echoed in the darkness as students launched balls of energy at each other or
ran for cover. At least ten stood within throwing distance of their hide, but
as Derek had suggested, they waited until the initial conflict had slowed.

The trees were filled with laughing, chattering, and
whispering by those untagged. Various colored lights blossomed into sight, and
disappeared just as quickly. The light mages had a disadvantage in that
igniting the orbs in their hands revealed their position. If they were quick to
toss it, though, it revealed their foes just as easily.

The lake bobbed with movement as water mages surfaced to
hurl balls of water at those running too close to the lake. Then they spotted
each other and a storm of water erupted. The plant and gravity mages had
elected for height. Purple and green orbs rained down on those without cover.
Marking their positions, the gravity mages flew soundlessly through the great
branches, tagging the plant mages that hadn't hidden themselves well enough.

After five minutes the activity slowed, and Derek whispered
to the girls. "It should be alright. Tag only those that are alone for
now. Resist the temptation to hit someone in a group, or they will figure out
where we are."

Tess nodded, and peered through a gap in the stone that
Derek had left. On the exterior their hiding spot looked like any other
decorative boulder. On the inside it was more like a bunker. Tingling with
anticipation, Tess waited until she spotted a healer mage stalking a sound
mage. Barely visible by the orbs in their hands, she watched the healer throw
her pink orb into the other’s back.

The boy cursed and whirled, but it was too late. Stomping
away in anger, he headed for the nearest leisure hall. Tess took careful aim at
the celebrating healer and struck her in the back with a tiny ball of heat
energy. The girl squeaked in surprise and spun, but couldn't seem to find them.
After a moment she made an irritated sound and departed. On the opposite side
of the boulder Rox gave a quiet crow of victory.

"Got one," she whispered.

"Me too," Tess said, and grinned in the darkness.
She hadn't anticipated this being so much fun.

A moment later she heard the chitterling of a small animal.
A chipmunk had discovered their hide, but soon a shuffling step announced that
an animal mage was following his helper. Tess struck him in the chest before he
could get too close. The boy growled and left, rubbing his chest.

A minute before the update they slipped from their boulder
and moved to the second bunker, which was far more exposed. They huddled behind
the walls, and listened to hurried footsteps as everyone else prepared for
their position to be revealed. At 8:20 a message flashed across Tess's glasses.

816 players
have been eliminated.

783 players
remain.

Then a map flashed across her field of vision. Hidden among a
three-dimensional display of the dorms, pinpoints of light reflected the
position of everyone still in the game—and many were extremely close to their
position.

"Go!" Derek hissed, and crawled out of the
boulder. He rose behind some brush and bolted for their third hiding spot. Tess
used her magic to fly just above the ground, and arrived a few seconds ahead of
Rox.

Breathing hard, she gathered magic in her palms and watched
the exposed location they had just left. A group of six congregated on it,
launching balls of light inside the walls. Then they rushed forward, peppering
the space Tess had occupied only seconds before. With her blood pounding loud
in her ears, Tess let loose on them.

The barrage was completely unexpected, and half of them were
out before the others knew what had hit them. By then there was nothing they
could do. Exposed and in the open, they tried to dive behind the same barrier
that Derek had built.

Derek chuckled under his breath as he reached out and burst
the traps he'd left behind. The two boys and the girls were enveloped in brown
light, and slumped away in defeat. When the silence returned, Tess and her
friends snuck back to their first hiding spot. From then on they kept an eye on
both the second and the third bunkers.

Tess soon realized that Derek's strategy was excellent. At
every interval their position was exposed, but they used it to their advantage.
They drew people in, and then they retreated to a more fortified location.
After the subsequent skirmish they retreated again to their first hiding spot, which
had yet to be discovered. After two hours the numbers were down to less than a
hundred—leaving only the better players.

As the three of them raced to their second hiding spot, two
boys struck Rox in the side with plant magic. Derek hit one in retaliation, and
Tess tagged the other. Rox growled, but then laughed. "I'll see you guys
afterward," she whispered, and then left.

Tess and Derek dodged into their hiding spot before they
were discovered. Side by side they waited, breathing hard. After a moment Tess
became aware of their physical proximity, and wondered why it didn't bother her
as much as with Drake.

"Do you see anyone?" Derek whispered, and
Tess issued a negative grunt. She didn't regret her decision to join her
friends. Still, she wondered how she would have faired at Drake's side—

A barrage of purple orbs pummeled their hiding spot. Derek
tried to close the gaps to buy them time, but two orbs hit him before he could.
A moment later their boulder cracked like a nut as the floating gravity mages
pulled it apart.

Without thinking Tess exploded upward in a controlled spin.
As she twirled she released balls of heat whenever she spotted a shadowy figure
on the limbs. Most of her attempts missed, but two connected. Cursing, they
joined Derek on the ground to watch the conflict play out.

Tess soared behind a second level cabin and used its bulk to
block the attacks coming at her. Breathing hard, she craned her neck to listen.
A moment later a voice spoke in her ear.

"I wish you would have joined my team, Tess,"

She spun with orbs in both hands, but he was unarmed. His
face was maddeningly close to hers, and even in the dark his features appeared flawless.
Why did he have to be so attractive? His earnest expression caused her
to hesitate.

"I couldn't just leave my friends," she replied
evenly.

He flashed a dazzling smile and leaned in. Heat suffused her
frame as his lips came in contact with hers, and she forgot all about the
Melee. A hundred thoughts flickered through her head, but they could not contain
the surge of emotion. Just as she began to kiss him back, she felt a sting of
heat on her arm. She withdrew, and saw the heat orb fade away at the same time
her glasses chimed that she'd been tagged.

She looked to Drake's eyes, confused and angry. He stared
back with an inscrutable expression.

"Next time," he said, "be careful which side
you're on."

The statement was made without rancor, so it conveyed a
sincerity that was at odds with the words. Regardless, the tag and the warning
left a cold pit in Tess's stomach.

Drake retreated, and the shadows swallowed him. Left to her
chaotic emotions, she descended to Derek's side. Together, they walked toward
the leisure hall, where they were greeted with applause for lasting as long as
they did. Through it all Tess forced a smile. Most of the Melee had been fun, but
the ending had left her in doubt. What had Drake meant? Long after the end of
the game (where Drake won) Tess considered his comment.

And the roiling questions that refused to quiet within her.

Chapter 23: Chained

Breaker awoke bloody and in pain. Anger blossomed first,
heightening the ache in his skull. He forced his eyes open anyway. Growling
under his breath, he eased himself off the floor and leaned against the wall of
his cell. The black chains that bound him clinked as he moved.

He'd been held and questioned for weeks, and each day his
captors had become more aggressive. For aurens it would have been called
torture, but among mages it was performed differently. It was an attack on the
mind.

Most of the questioning had been performed by two vicious
women−twins, if he was not mistaken. They had knifed into his mind and
sought to take his answers by force. They had not expected such mental
resistance, but they had thought of him as a surly brute from the beginning.
The black-eyed man supervised every attempt, but appeared increasingly agitated
by the lack of results.

A smile split Breaker's face, cracking the scabs on his
lips. He wiped the blood away, ignoring the sting as he rubbed grit into the
cuts. At their latest failure to invade his mind the man had lost his temper,
and had struck Breaker repeatedly. It probably hadn't helped that Breaker had
been laughing in his face.

Breaker bared his teeth in satisfaction. The mind mages had
pulled the black-eyed man off, and had called him by name, Varson. It was the
first time any of his captors had let anything slip. At least now Breaker knew
who was in charge of this group.

A scratching sound drew his attention to the wall at his
back, and a moment later a loose brick began to recede. It ground against the
mortar, quiet and slow as it was removed. When it was clear, a rumbling voice
spoke into the gap.

"Did they succeed?" it asked.

"No, Raybex," Breaker murmured. "But I got
them to hit me. When they pulled him off me they called the black-eyed one
Varson."

There was a low rasp as the rock troll laughed. "You
sound like my son."

"Was he at the village?" Breaker asked. He hadn't
known that Raybex had a son.

There was a grunt. "No. He is at Tryton’s, teaching
humans how to fight."

"At least he survived," Breaker said.

"If we escape, he will aid me in fighting our
enemy."

"When we escape," Breaker corrected.

There was another rumble. "You would have made a good
troll, my friend."

Breaker grinned, splitting the scabs on his face once again.
It was a high complement from a rock troll, no less diminished by the fact it
came from the second chief of the clan. Along with Breaker, Raybex and two
others had been taken from the destroyed troll village and had awoken in what
appeared to be an old castle.

Every day since, the four captives had followed the same
routine, eat, sleep, and be questioned. After each interrogation they had
shared what information they had gleaned between themselves. With his cell
furthest from Breaker, Faiz had heard someone speaking Portuguese. Terus had a
tiny window and could smell saltwater. He'd also heard boats arriving and
leaving from a set of docks. Putting the information together they'd surmised
that they were being held somewhere off the coast of Brazil.

Throughout their captivity they also shared what they
learned of their captors. Everyone wore the hooded cloaks at all times, and
names were never used. Instead, the four captives knew them by other traits.
The Thin Man was a high level techno mage. The Marked One had a burn scar on
his hand, but he'd only been spotted a couple of times. Then there were the
numerous mind mages that had tried to crack them: the Skinny Girl, the Twins,
Flat Head, and so on.

All of them except for the Marked One answered to Varson.
From the moment Breaker had woken six weeks ago Varson had been vicious but
controlled. He was the only one that did not wear his hood, allowing Breaker to
witness the pleasure he found in each questioning.

Breaker had stared into the black eyes of his adversary
during every interrogation. More than anything, the mounting frustration he'd
seen there had kept him going. He'd even taken to singing his favorite songs
while the mind mages attempted to steal his thoughts. Perhaps it wouldn't have
bothered his captors if he had a good voice—but he was tone deaf. Bellowing "It's
a Small World" had escalated Varson's frustration into anger.

But despite Breaker's bravado, he had reason to fear. Each
of the mages they had encountered was powerful—and cautious. Deep down he knew
it was only a matter of time until they broke one of them. Their only chance
was to escape, but so far there had been no sign of weakness in their captors.

None took chances with Breaker or the trolls. Not once had
they removed the anti-magic bindings from Breaker's hands, or the massive shackles
that contained the trolls. None of the obstacles had stopped the captives from trying
to break free.

They'd hit the outer walls first, which still bore the dents
from Raybex's shoulder. The massive troll's skin had been scarred by their
captors as a warning not to try again. Breaker and the trolls had only switched
to more subtle attempts.

"Which stone is next?" the troll murmured through
the hole.

The black bindings may have stopped Breaker from using his
magic, but they didn't block his magesight. He scanned the wall and selected
the weakest stone next to their hole. It had taken them several days to loosen
the first. He hoped it would be easier now that it was out. After indicating
the correct one to Raybex, the two began to work it loose.

Breaker had learned that the best way was to lay on his back
and strike it with his foot. He did so, and then listened for the blow from the
opposite side. Taking turns, they rattled the stone in its mortar. The
surrounding stones trembled each time the troll struck, but hardly moved when
Breaker did. Still, the back and forth had the desired effect.

Flakes of mortar cracked and fell after each attempt, and
for a while the only sound was the muffled strikes and the grunts of exertion.
After twenty minutes Raybex stopped.

"Terus says someone comes," he murmured, and
replaced the first stone.

A guard passed them, checking their cells to ensure they
were secure. Once he passed, Breaker and Raybex continued. After a moment
Breaker asked, "How many stones are out between you and Terus?"

"Three," the reply came. "And two between
Faiz and Terus."

Breaker felt a rush of competitive anger, and slammed his
foot onto the stone. The sound was overly loud as it knocked the stone into the
wall. By unspoken accord they waited and listened. Then they began to work
again. Lunch came and went, and sometime in the early evening the second stone
came free.

Breaker caught it with his feet as it slid out, cushioning
it so it wouldn't rattle against the ground. Through the larger gap Breaker
could see a large tattooed fist, and he tapped it with his own in triumph. Then
they started on the one in line. Raybex knocked it loose after an hour of work,
but this time Breaker didn't catch it.

It clattered to the floor, causing them both to freeze.
After a moment's pause footsteps sounded, getting louder as they approached. In
a rush Breaker and Raybex replaced the stones, fighting to keep quiet. With the
guard just around the corner Breaker dropped the last brick.

Cursing himself, he picked it up and shoved it into place.
Then he picked up his chain and darted to the bed just as the hooded guard
appeared. Breaker met the guard’s gaze with sarcasm, using it to hide his
stammering heart.

"When's the next meal, wench? I'm starving."

The guard flexed his fingers, but Breaker merely laughed.
Reluctantly the hooded man departed. As soon as he was gone Breaker breathed a
sigh of relief. Then he darted to the hole and helped Raybex remove the stones.
With half their support gone, the remaining stones came free within minutes,
and soon there was enough space for Breaker to duck through.

It was the first time he'd seen the rock troll since their
capture, and fury blossomed within him at the sight. The troll's huge fists had
been shackled to his feet, keeping the troll perpetually hunched while in his
cell. The bands of steel around his hands were thick and bright, as if they
were newly crafted.

Dried blood stained his great body, marking where Varson had
ordered he be punished for his attempt to escape. His features were rigid with
suppressed rage, and his grey eyes burned with anticipation.

"Are you ready?" Breaker asked as he extended his
bound wrists to the rock troll.

Raybex grunted and shifted his body so he could place his
hands on Breaker's bindings. Impervious to magic, they still bore the weakness
of the metal itself. Fashioned to hold a man, they had never been intended to
stop a troll's strength.

The huge fingers fumbled against Breaker's shackles,
searching for a place to grip. Finding one, they tightened and began to pull.
Grunting from the strain, the rock troll brought his full strength to bear
against the metal. A squeak of protest came from the steel as it began to bend,
then an audible snap resounded as it was wrenched in two.

With one hand free Breaker was able to use a portion of his
magic to weaken the remaining metal, and a moment later his restraints lay
broken on the dusty floor. He froze as another set of footsteps began to
approach. Knowing he had only seconds, he poured his magic into the troll's
bindings. Built to hold a troll, they were no match for Breaker's magic.

The moment they split, Raybex rose to his full stature. His
black hair brushed the ceiling as he stretched. In two steps he closed the distance
to the cell bars. Bored and walking casually, the guard stepped into view—and
an enormous hand reached out. Snatching the man's neck, Raybex pulled him to
the bars and growled into his ear.

"Move and die."

The guard ignored the warning, and fire blossomed on his
palms. Raybex snapped his vertebrae with a single twist of his fingers. His
fire extinguished with his life, the guard's body slumped to the ground.

"Fool human," Raybex muttered as Breaker
searched the man's pockets for keys.

"Nothing," he said in disgust. "Any
ideas?"

Without a word Raybex went to work on the bars. Although
they might have been strong enough to withstand a troll's strength, they
couldn't hold against a troll's rage. With a guttural growl, the rock troll
yanked on an anti-magic bar—and it gave. Snarling under his breath, Raybex bent
it further, until it tore from its moorings with a crunch of broken stone.
Enchanted steel had yielded to flesh, and the troll went for the next bar. In
less than a minute it too came free.

While Raybex gave them an opening, Breaker used his magic to
punch the way into the opposite cell. By the time the big troll had made a hole
in the bars, two more trolls stood in the cell with them, making the space
considerably smaller. As soon as the opening was large enough, Breaker dodged into
the hall and pulled the body inside. Then he drew the hood back so he could get
a better look.

"It's Ferrin," he said in surprise.

"You know this man?" Terus asked with a grunt.

Breaker’s jaw tightened. "His father is a master level
stone mage, and became a captain of the battlemages after I left. If his son is
here, then we have a problem."

"What are you saying?" Raybex said, and then
jerked his head at Faiz, who took up position at the hole in the bars.

"Ferrin's father finished at Tryton’s a year behind me,
and was the best of his year. The fact that his son is involved indicates that
this conspiracy goes much deeper than we thought. The entire family is well
connected, and has positions throughout several branches of the Magtherian. His
uncle was even appointed a high judge in the Magistration Office, so I think
it's safe to assume that he's a Harbinger as well."

"Will they not be punished for their crimes?"
Raybex asked, his eyes narrowing.

Breaker felt as if he stood at an invisible line, as if in
that moment the conflict was on the verge of escalating. Ferrin's father had
carried a great deal of influence, and had finished Tryton’s with countless
friends and admirers. Judges, soldiers, and high level masters in many positions
were close friends of his. Even Breaker would have counted himself among the
man's friends. Steeling himself against what he knew was coming, Breaker rose
to his feet.

"No," he said. "I would say there is a good
chance that capturing these men would do nothing. Ferrin's father or others
would find a way to get them released."

The rock troll issued a deep rumble in his throat. "Then
I have no qualms about killing them."

Breaker hesitated, and then said, "Raybex, I believe
that the Harbingers are a threat to the entire mage world. Whether the high
council knows it or not, they are at war. The only one I know I can trust now
is Hawk."

Raybex gave a curt nod. "I agree with your assessment.
The ancient one can be trusted."

Breaker blinked, surprised that the trolls knew Hawk's true
identity. "Then we are agreed. We need to get word out so Hawk knows what
is coming." He stooped and searched again through Ferrin's pockets, hoping
to find what he sought. He cursed when he again found them to be empty. "If
we can find a pair of omni-glasses I can get a message to him. We need to warn the
Guild at all costs."

"Then we must get what you need," Raybex said.
"But first we need weapons."

"Give me the bars," Breaker said, and Raybex
handed them to him.

Grasping one, Breaker set to work. Gray light fluttered into
view as he shaped the black metal. It resisted, but most of the anti-magic
enchantment had been broken when it had been torn free. Once he was finished he
handed the rough sword to Faiz. Then he made two more. With the makeshift
weapon in hand, Raybex growled. "No one lives to give warning."

Chapter 24: Valiant

They left the cell and worked their way down the hall. On
the way Breaker gathered loose rocks into a magic fist. It wasn't large, but it
could get the job done in a pinch. Fortunately they only encountered empty
shadows. They reached the interrogation chamber, but it too was empty.
Frowning, he led the way into unfamiliar territory.

After being knocked out Breaker had woken up in his cell, so
he knew little about what lay beyond the hall and the interrogation room.
Passing the room, he came to a set of spiral stairs that went down but not up.
A small window allowed the moonlight to illuminate the turret. Stepping to it,
he peered outside.

Below was a small castle courtyard surrounded by an ancient
wall. Beyond the wall was the sea, and the tip of a dock was just visible. A
flicker drew his gaze, and he squinted next to the pier. A faint shimmer
reflected as the water flowed through an intangible barrier. With a start
Breaker realized where they were.

He pulled back and whispered to Raybex, "It's one of
the coastal towers near Brazil."

The rock troll shook his head, so Breaker went on. "Two
hundred years ago a few castles were built on a handful of tiny islands off the
coast of South America. Most were destroyed, but the mages appropriated the two
that were abandoned. They shrouded them with invisibility spells so the aurens
would think they were gone, but storms caused repeated damage and they were
abandoned by the mages soon after. The Harbingers must have rebuilt one."

"How many could it hold?" Terus asked.

"A few hundred," Breaker said.

Raybex glanced at the trolls on his flanks, his brow
crinkling in thought. "Armored, and with surprise, perhaps. Not with
these." He waved the rough-hewn sword in his hand.

"Then let's try to avoid conflict," Breaker
whispered as a stirring of footfalls began to sound from below.

"Ferrin," a voice called, "you're late! Finish
your rounds and get down here."

A moment later footsteps sounded on the stairs. In a flash
Breaker jumped on his stone fist and raised himself up the wall. He entered the
shadows at the same time a light flickered on the stairs. He scanned for the
rock trolls, but they had already retreated out of sight.

The newcomer was cautious, and held a ball of fire in one
hand as he ascended. "Ferrin?" he said. "You know I am supposed
to report any—ˮ

Raybex leapt into view. In a blur of motion he kicked off
the outside wall and plunged his sword into the guard. The fire in the man's
palm evaporated as he choked on the blade. He died as the troll carried him to
the floor.

Breaker lowered himself to the ground. "Let's go."

They worked their way down the staircase and bypassed the
next level. A glance through the door revealed it to be the barracks, so they
moved on. Several times they avoided knots of guards that were engaged in
various activities. Breaker felt his tension mount all the way to the base of
the fortress.

They came to a halt next to a set of large doors. Cracked
open, they allowed a stream of light into the corridor. Breaker peaked through
and saw that it was the great hall of the castle. On the opposite side of the
room another set of large doors stood open to the courtyard outside. In spite
of the hour, at least forty men and women were sitting in the chamber, gambling
and drinking. Most had their hoods down, so Breaker glanced between the
revealed faces. His heart sank as he recognized someone from nearly every
branch of the mage government. Then he spotted something on the face of one of
the men.

He withdrew and led the trolls into a storage room. Once
they were out of sight he whispered what he'd seen.

"It's the great hall, and the courtyard is beyond it.
Forty people are inside, but they are unprepared for an attack—and at least one
is wearing spectacles." He didn't add how many he'd recognized.

Terus grunted. "Hit them hard and fast. We'll occupy
the rest while Breaker sends the message."

After a moment's thought, Raybex nodded. "It should
work. We will guard you until you have contacted Hawk. Then we make for the
courtyard and the docks."

Breaker agreed and stepped to the door, but Raybex hadn't
moved. Instead he placed the tip of his rough sword on the floor. Then he rumbled,
"We train for life . . .”

"To fight to the death," Faiz and Terus said in
unison. Then Raybex turned to Breaker.

"We are ready."

Breaker swallowed at their avowal, and fervently hoped it
didn't come to that. Then he stepped to the great door. Grasping the large
handle, he prepared himself for the battle. Once the trolls were in position,
he yanked it open for them. As one the three hulking figures burst into the
room, roaring their battle cry.

Six went down before anyone could react. Then screaming and
shouting erupted as the Harbingers scrambled to defend themselves. Raybex
plunged his sword through a man and then picked up his dying body. With a
bellow of triumph he hurled the man into a knot of fleeing men.

Raybex dropped his sword after it broke in two, and caught a
chain that held a chandelier in the vaulted chamber. Tearing it from the wall,
he yanked it from its hold on the ceiling. Metal screeched and whined as the
large frame came free and plummeted to the floor. Built of cast metal, it slammed
into the floor, part of a table, and a Harbinger that didn't move quickly
enough.

The rock troll chief darted halfway up the chain and caught
two links. His muscles bulged as he pulled them apart. With a rending snap the
metal gave. Grasping the broken length of chain, he snarled at the Harbingers
huddling behind one of the large tables and swung his chain at them. The
surface of the table shattered as the chain collided with it, engulfing the
Harbingers in splinters and dust. Raybex withdrew the bloody chain and then
struck again.

Faiz had discarded his own sword in favor of a broken table.
Grasping it with both hands, he hefted the oak boards like a shield, and
deflected the blasts of magic from the regrouping Harbingers. Next to him,
Terus was a whirlwind of death.

Grasping a thick metal rod that had once held a tapestry on
the wall, he plowed through the stumbling men and women. One by one they were
crushed by tremendous blows issued from the rock troll. Few escaped his
onslaught.

Through it all Breaker battled a trio of Harbingers on the
side of the room. The first he took down with a strike from his magical fist.
The second was quick enough to duck his blow and scurried under a table.
Breaker pulled the rocks from the wall and slammed them into it. He left him
buried.

The third was fast, and launched a salvo of loose objects as
he retreated. Breaker followed, and dodged the gravity thrown items with deft
movements. Then the man whirled with a large steel cauldron rising above his
head.

Breaker skidded to a halt and yanked the stones at his feet upward,
forming a makeshift shield. Just as the barrier tightened in place the cauldron
smashed into it. A large dent pushed into the wall, nearly breaking through.
Unwilling to risk another blow, Breaker punched his barrier, splitting it in
half and sending both pieces careening toward the man.

The Harbinger jerked in surprise but was not fast enough to
evade. Coming at him from both sides, the piles of rubble sandwiched him all
the way to the neck. He struggled to push them away, so Breaker shredded the
cauldron with a blast of magic. At his touch the shards of metal wrapped around
the stone like bands around a barrel. In an instant they tightened into place
and solidified.

Breaker ignored the string of profanities from the helpless
man and tore the glasses from his face. Ducking behind a fallen table, he
crafted a fast message and sent it. He pulled the spectacles from his face but
they inexplicably melted in his hands before he could move. The timing of their
destruction implied intent, and Breaker felt a tremor of foreboding as he
turned to aid the rock trolls.

At twice the height of the humans, the rock trolls displayed
a ferocity that could not be matched by their smaller foes. But what the
Harbingers lacked in strength and speed, they made up for with power and
numbers. With the initial surprise fading, they struck back. Fire and stone
streaked toward the battling trolls, forcing them to group tighter around Faiz's
makeshift shield.

Then the pounding of footsteps echoed from elsewhere in the
keep. In seconds the reinforcements poured into the great hall. Terus went down
first. A mountain of fire consumed him as blades of ice and stone bombarded his
body. His final act was to throw his rod like a spear. It pierced two men on
its way to the wall.

Breaker sprinted through the barrage of deadly missiles with
a shell of rubble at his back. He slid to a stop next to Raybex and Faiz. The
moment he arrived Raybex wrapped the chain around his wrist and bellowed to his
remaining troll.

"Bring up the rear!"

He then grasped another massive table and held it crossways.
Roaring at his foes, he sprinted toward the front doors. In ten steps the
entire surface of the table was aflame. In twenty it had begun to crack—but by
then Raybex had reached top speed. With Faiz blocking attacks from the rear,
Raybex plowed through the Harbingers. He trampled the ones who were too slow.

One man screamed as a great foot crushed his leg. Breaker winced
as he heard the bone snap but he didn't slow. A heartbeat later they reached
the now closed front doors. Raybex transferred the table to one hand and barreled
into the exit with a roar. Heavy and strong, the door could not withstand the
impact from 2,000 pounds of bone and muscle.

The portal exploded outward and the clattered into the
courtyard. Breaker tripped and stumbled down a handful of stairs. Bruised and
singed, he rolled to his feet to find Raybex alone beside him.

"Where's Faiz!" Breaker yelled. Then he saw him.

A chance strike had struck him in the leg as he'd defended
their rear. He'd tumbled to the ground, alone. Raybex took a step in his
direction but Faiz shook his head. Rising to his feet, he snarled at the wave
of magic that cascaded into his back. Then he grasped the scarred and broken
table and hurled it at the shattered great doors.

Breaker lost sight of him as the table filled the gap,
preventing the Harbingers from passing through it. A moment later a metal pole
plunged through the table and the outer wall, holding the table fast. Then
another one fastened into the opposite side, pinning the door like nails in a
board. The thud of flesh striking the ground resounded loudly to Breaker.
Beside him, Raybex bellowed his rage. In the silence that followed Varson spoke
from the top of a neighboring wall.

"I should thank you before you die, Raybex. Your
sacrifice has allowed Breaker to send a message—which we have intercepted, of
course." His eyes glittered in dark triumph. "We will make sure that Hawk
receives it when we are ready for his arrival. I'm sorry to say that we have no
need of you anymore."

Breaker slumped. Their escape, the battle, and his
message—all of it had been designed to get Hawk to come here, where they would
be waiting for him. As hundreds of Harbingers filled the wall top and prepared
themselves to finish them, Raybex looked down on Breaker.

"Swear to me you will protect my son—and live to defeat
them." Each of his words carried the weight of emotion and anger.

Breaker gave a solemn nod, and then he spotted something at
the edge of the courtyard. An enormous sword hung against a wall like a trophy.
Above it was a massive shield. Without hesitation Breaker sent a ripple through
the stone. Striking like a whip, the blow sent the shield and sword scraping
and sliding across the ground. It came to a stop next to Raybex. Everyone
seemed to suck in their breath at the same time. Then Varson began to scream.

"Kill him! Kill him now!"

Hundreds of magic points blossomed into view . . . and then reached
toward the two of them in a cascade of power. Time seemed to slow as Raybex met
Breaker's gaze. An understanding of gratitude passed between them. Then the
rock troll collected the enormous sword and shield and surged into motion.
Alone, he roared a battle cry.

Breaker called on the rock courtyard. Four stone golems
pulled themselves from the earth. Two he sent to slow the Harbingers on the
walls. The other two he directed to guard their flanks. Then he bared his teeth
and fought with a fury born of desperation.

One of the golems was shattered into rubble. Another
followed soon after. With the Harbinger bodies piling in his wake, Raybex
finally succumbed to the thousands of injuries he'd sustained. Broken, scorched
and bleeding, the rock troll died in a circle of dead foes.

Breaker watched his fall with a heavy heart, but still he
fought. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he struck with every ounce of power
he possessed. Stone shattered across his foes as they advanced, and deflected
every attempt to envelop him with anti-magic. He fought until his knuckles were
bloody and his body refused to respond.

Then an anti-magic rope settled around him. Weakened and
exhausted, Breaker had nothing left to fight with. He fell to his knees in
defeat. The last thing he saw was Varson's black eyes, glittering in victory.

Chapter 25: An Unexpected Friend

"Remind me how you got permission to do this?"
Derek asked Iris.

Iris shrugged, obviously not paying attention. "You
said you wanted to get out, and the director authorized it."

"Which one?" Rox asked.

"Does it matter?" she replied, and gestured to the
ball of glass they sat in. "We needed a break. Finals are two weeks away,
and next week we will be swamped with preparing for them."

"I thought we were going to study today," Rox said
with a frown.

"We'll be back from Oakridge this afternoon," Iris
said. "You can study all weekend if you want."

Rox grunted her agreement and looked out of the sphere at
the clouds floating by. Tess did the same, her mind elsewhere. She hadn't seen
Hawk since after the mid-quad tests, and she was concerned. He'd taught her
more about fighting with magic, and had praised her for her progress. He hadn't
responded to her messages since.

Distracted by her concern, Tess watched the clouds drift,
listening to Derek argue with his sister. On any other day she would have liked
to explore the mage world further, but today she couldn't shake the tension in
her heart. The marked one had said that another attempt on her life would occur
by the end of the term. With the time getting shorter, her worries mounted.

They landed in the same bowl that she had departed from on
her way to Tryton’s. As the receiving tornado dissipated she stepped to the
door. A man opened it for them, and smiled as they disembarked.

"Have a good flight?" he asked.

She nodded half-heartedly. Then she led her friends out of
the building. Once outside she let the others take over. She kept her eyes on
the shadows, cautious and wary. After a few minutes they entered their first
shop, Electech.

"I love this place," Iris breathed, and jumped to a
floating disk of odd, shimmering objects.

The store seemed to straddle the line between electronics
and magic, but Tess couldn't have guess which side many of them belonged to.
Glowing balls, rings, and tiny gadgets comprised the bulk of the items. Reading
the descriptions didn't help.

Tresicals, three for the price of one.

Beronauts, pre-staticed,

Zerins, infused with light, or regular.

"What is all this stuff?" Tess asked, and reached
out to an orb of liquid metal. Below it, a sign read, Caution, untuned
Grend. Price upon request.

"I wouldn't," Rox said, but Tess had already
touched it.

The ball wiggled at the contact. Then it giggled and changed
into something akin to a chipmunk. It jumped off its stand and climbed up
Tess's arm, where it burrowed into her shoulder with a soft coo.

"How did you do that?" Derek demanded. "They
don't do that unless they are tuned to their master."

"What do you mean?" Tess asked, and reached up to
stroke the thing. It shimmered at her touch and purred.

"It must be a mild one," Rox said with a shrug.

"Let's see," Derek said, and reached out to it.

In an instant the liquid shifted into a pair of jaws with
steel teeth. It snarled and lunged at Derek's fingers. It closed with a
chilling snap, nearly taking the fingers off his hand.

"That's the response I would have expected," Derek
said ruefully.

"What is it?" Tess asked, and tried to gently
slide it off her shoulder. After what it had nearly done to Derek she wasn't
sure if she wanted it that close to her neck.

"It's a grend," Iris said, appearing from out of
nowhere. "Don't touch any more or you could end up with more than you
bargained for."

"Why would you think she'd bond with others?" Rox
asked. "They don't tune with someone who already has one."

"Isn't it obvious?" Iris said.

Derek blew out his breath in exasperation. "Can you
ever just explain what you mean? Iris? Iris!" She had disappeared again.

"Can someone please explain to me what is going
on?" Tess asked, a trace of annoyance in her voice.

"It's an energy intelligence. It's like a pet,"
Rox said. "They were popular thirty years ago, but proved difficult to
keep. You only see a handful these days."

Tess eyed the little ball of warmth that had cuddled into
the side of her neck. She had the urge to pet it like a cat. "What does it
do?"

"They can take on most any form, and over time can even
absorb abilities from their master. They are always obedient to whomever they
choose to bond with."

"If they’re so useful, why haven't I seen one
before?"

"Because they choose to bond," Derek said. “Purchasing
one doesn't mean you own it. I have an uncle who has owned one for thirty years
and still hasn't gained its trust. It lives in a cage and tries to bite anyone
who passes."

"So . . . it's wild?" Tess couldn't think of a
better word.

Rox nodded. "They are sentient so they can't be tamed.
They only choose to bond with a person for a while. Otherwise, they live in
their natural habitat."

"Which is?"

Derek was examining a large, ethereal staff. Without turning
away, he gestured to the one on her shoulder. "That one looks to be a
mineral grend, so it probably favors rock or stone." He pointed to the
other two on the shelf. "That one is green, so it comes from trees and
plants, and that one obviously likes fire."

Iris reappeared at their side, stuffing a handful of objects
into her bag. "I'm ready. Let's go."

"What do I do with . . . him?" Tess said. The
grend yawned and went to sleep. She couldn't tell if he was oblivious or
ignoring the conversation. "How expensive is he?"

Iris waved airily. "I already paid for him. Joran was
steamed that it had bonded with you so I got it cheap. I think he was actually
glad to get rid of it, though. It's been in his shop for a while."

She was out the door before Tess could say thank you. The
three of them shared a look and then laughed.

"What are you going to name him?" Rox asked as they
exited.

"Stel," she decided, but it felt like the name had
been placed into her mind. The creature issued a huge yawn that was all mouth
and then coiled around her neck like a necklace.

"I guess that means he likes it?" Derek said, and
they both laughed.

For the next few hours Tess almost managed to forget the
marked one and the threat of attack. After Electech they stopped at an earth
shop for Derek, and then browsed the air boards in Skyflyers. When they got
hungry they ate at The Troll's Gambit, and drank massive mugs of Goblin Grog,
which was mostly foam and tasted like cinnamon.

On their way back to the launcher they stopped at Roasters
for a treat. Tess followed Derek's lead and chose an apple with a caramel
cinnamon glaze. Rox chose almonds while Iris chose pineapple. Then they watched
as a gravity mage lifted the food into the air and coated it with their
selected topping. A fire mage finished it by roasting it while it twirled.

They stepped outside and strolled toward the Terminous,
polishing off the desserts. Once the orb was ready, they walked into the bowl
and climbed aboard. Tess watched the lazy air currents, feeling content and
happy. Then the man closed their door for them . . .

And she saw the mark on his hand.

She leapt to her feet but it was too late. He'd already
exited the bowl and the wind was picking up. Panic gripped her as she heard a
whine in the growing tornado that she'd never heard before.

"It's never sounded like that . . ." Rox said with
a frown.

"We have to get out—ˮ

The tornado sucked them into the sky in a violent burst of
energy, throwing them all to the floor. The glass sphere wobbled as it
accelerated, and a dull shriek began to sound as it curved the wrong way. An
instant later a crack appeared next to Rox. All four of them stared at it as it
grew.

"What happened?" Derek growled, rising to his
feet. "Launchers never fail."

Tess cringed at what she was about to say. "This isn't
an accident."

"Someone did this?" Rox asked, her voice tight
with fear. "But why?" She had to catch her hand on the bench as the
sphere shuddered.

"You guys are daft sometimes, aren't you," Iris
said, causing Rox to flush and Derek's face to cloud with anger.

"Just because you know things doesn't give you the
right to treat us like we're stupid," he said. "Now spit it out or—

The sphere shuddered, and the crack blossomed like lightning
across the orb's surface. Groaning as if in pain, the orb seemed to be making
an effort to stabilize, but it couldn't find a balance and tipped farther to
the side.

"We don't have time for this," Iris almost
snarled. "We are off course and in a ball of glass about to shatter."

"What do you suggest we do?" Rox demanded.
"If it doesn't kill us when it explodes, the fall will finish the job
unless Tess could get help in time."

It was a vain hope and they all knew it. The fall would last
no more than a minute, and that wouldn't give Tess a chance to reach the city
and return with help. Still it seemed the only option until Iris blew out a
breath in exasperation.

"Or we can all survive."

"How?" Tess said, fighting the rage and guilt that
threatened to overpower her. If her friends died she would burn them to
ashes. The anger was so bitter she could taste it.

"You, of course." Iris said it as if it were the
most obvious thing in the world. "Derek can break the glass and keep it
from killing us, you fly us to the city, and I get us through the cloudwall."

"How is she supposed to fly us all?" Rox
asked, her eyes on the crack that had now curved past her hand. "I know she's
good, but no one can fly four people—even with a board."

"She doesn't need one," Iris insisted.

"How long have you known?" Tess asked. She locked
eyes with Iris as the cracks spiderwebbed further.

"A few weeks," she admitted. "Ever since I
saw you train with Hawk."

Tess shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. Still, it
was almost a relief that someone else knew. "I still don't know if I can
do it."

"Trust me," Iris said. "I know you can."

Tess stared at her roommate, and realized that she trusted
her. But was that enough? Could she really fly four people? Rox and Derek kept
looking between them, confusion on both of their faces. Just as Derek opened
his mouth to speak a massive piece of glass cracked next to him.

"We are out of time," Iris said. "We need to
do it."

Derek seemed to be fighting with his desire to understand
and his desire to live.

"I promise I will explain when we get to Tryton’s,"
Iris said, her voice impatient.

"I'll hold you to that," he said, and finally took
his place at the center of the sphere.

Her heart fluttering in her chest, Tess took a stand next to
him. Then she gestured to Rox. "When he breaks it, use the moisture in the
air to keep it from cutting us to ribbons."

She felt a tremor from Stel, as if he were afraid as well.
For some reason that made the moment more visceral, forcing her to swallow the
bile that had risen in her throat. She touched the creature and murmured under
her breath.

"Hold onto me, Stel."

She clenched her hands to keep them from trembling as she took
up a position in the middle. "Are we really doing this?" she
whispered to Derek.

"I don't think we have a choice," he shot back,
and prepared himself break the orb. "Let me know when you are ready,"
he said to Tess.

The doubt in his face was unbearable. She looked away before
it could spread to her. She closed her eyes and gathered herself, fighting her
rising fear. In the back of her mind she heard Professor Lerik's voice.

Your fear will tell you what you cannot do.

Shoving the thought from her head, she clenched her jaw and
willed the gravity to bend around the four of them. It didn't want to go beyond
herself, but she pushed harder than she ever had. Tuning out the shrieking wind
and breaking glass, she wrenched her hands apart and ripped the gravity away
from them.

It wasn't pretty, nor did it bear the crystalline shape that
surrounded her when she flew alone, but it was enough to lift the four of them
off the floor. Someone squeaked in surprise, but Tess was too focused to
discover who.

"Do it," she said in a hoarse bark.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Derek swing his
arms wide, and then bring them together in massive clap. The orb exploded into
a whirlwind of deadly shards as the smell of rain filled Tess's nose. Rox and
Derek managed to keep most of the glass from hitting them, but a few got
through.

Tess heard grunts of pain, and then felt several fragments
score her cheek. She winced, distracted.

And they fell.

Chapter 26: Plummet

The wind knocked the air from Tess's lungs and howled in her
ears, heavy and grating. Fear and panic gripped her as her friends screamed on
all sides. For a long moment Tess tumbled toward the earth, terrified and
helpless in the earth's grasp.

Then she fought back.

She clawed for control, striking against her fear with all
the will she could muster. Twice she slowed their fall, but each time couldn't
hold it enough and they gradually picked up speed. After the second attempt
Iris shouted to her.

"Don't try to take us together!" she yelled.
"Get one at a time!"

Tess could hear the tremble in Iris's voice, and she
swallowed at the shrill panic she heard there. "I'll try!" she yelled
back.

She felt a rush of relief as her power answered her call. In
an instant she went from falling . . . to flying. Her confidence surged, and
since Rox was closest, she dived to her side. Catching her arm, she ignored the
stark terror in her face and screamed over the wind.

"Put your arms by your sides!"

Rox did as requested, and Tess aligned her path with her.
Then she expanded her power to include her. She expected the resistance, but on
the second attempt she managed to join them together. It felt like throwing a
hundred-pound stone on her back. Rox's features were a mask of relief, fear, and
hope as her fall became controlled.

Derek was next closest, and Tess yelled to him as she
approached. He threw a look at her that conveyed a wealth of emotion. Fear lit
his eyes, yet determination tightened his jaw. As the wind screeched around
them, he held her gaze. Then he shook his head and rolled away from Tess's
path.

Tess growled and went for Iris, who appeared even more
terrified than Rox. Apparently seeing what Rox had done, she had already
aligned their path and put her arms at her sides. With her hair billowing
behind her, she fought to keep herself in line.

Tess brought them together and forced her spell to expand.
Inch by reluctant inch it stretched until it included Iris. This time it felt
like she had added a refrigerator to her shoulders. Gritting her teeth against
the strain, she growled and arrayed the three of them together. Then she turned
to Derek.

She accelerated downward to catch up to him. The force of
the wind made it feel like each breath was a punch into her lungs as she
aligned their falls. Then once again she sought to add another person. Her
blood thundered in her veins, drowning out the wind.

She screamed in primal fury, and forced her magic to obey
her will. With all her might she wrapped her power around the four of them. The
instant she felt Derek's weight, she banked them away from death. Painstakingly
slow, they curved to the side.

"Ground. Or. Auroraq?" She spit the words through
her teeth.

"The city!" Iris said, "It's closer. Go
through those clouds."

Tess couldn't answer. She swerved toward it. Each foot took
more strength then she dared to admit. Each yard demanded her absolute
power—but she fixed her gaze on her target and strove for it.

Her magic mounted as they flew . . . and they began to
accelerate. They passed through a cloud and the moisture joined the sweat
beading her forehead. Then she spotted the cloudwall. Rox groaned at the
distance, but Tess snarled. She would not let her friends die.

The distance felt like a thousand miles, but gradually the cloudwall
drew nearer. As the distance diminished she heard Iris mutter under her breath
about gaining clearance. Then the purple lines in her clothing flared. Tess
didn't care. She couldn't spare an ounce of thought or risk losing her focus. If
she did, she knew she wouldn't be able to rescue them a second time.

They reached the cloudwall as her strength ebbed. Her body
sought to give in to exhaustion, but her mind screamed for them to rise. She
felt energy crackle on her arms as she forced them higher. Then an unseen
barrier separated to allow them to pass.

A dozen feet later the city came into view.

Red darkness rimmed Tess's vision, but she strove to get
them over the wall. No thought existed in her consciousness except the will to
succeed. Ten feet closed to five . . . and then two . . . and then they passed
the wall at the edge of the city. Tess collapsed, and vaguely felt them fall toward
the ground.

A cascade of water from a nearby pool reached out to catch
them. It felt cold on her limbs, but her mind had given up. Relinquishing her
power with a great sigh, her awareness faded.

Her last sight was of her three friends staring at her.

***

Tess awoke with the worst headache of her life. She sat up
with a groan and peered at her surroundings. Clean white greeted her. Sheets,
blankets, even the walls were all pristine white. The exceptions were the trio
of dark blue chairs and their occupants, only one of which was awake.

"What happened?" Tess asked, clasping a hand to
her head.

Hawk waved a hand at the room. "You are in the healer's
school at Tryton’s. It was the closest place to get you after you
collapsed."

The two girls were asleep in the room. That just left . . .
"Derek? He didn't . . ."

"No, he's fine. They forced him out when I arrived.
Apparently there is a strict three-visitor rule here."

"My head hurts," she said with a wince.

"As it should." Hawk grinned, but it did little to
mask the worry in his eyes. "I'm surprised you aren't magesick." At
her questioning look he added. "It's when you use too much magic in too
short a time. Your body can't handle it, and you get sick. Oddly, you aren't."

She relaxed into the bed with a sigh. "I'm just glad we
made it."

"It's a wonder that you did. I doubt any flyer in our
world could have done what you did."

"Is it because of  . . . who I am?"

"Yes and no," Hawk replied with a sideways glance
at the two sleeping girls. "But we’ll talk about that later. They are
going to wake up soon, and I’m sure you’ll want to speak with them. I’ve added
myself to your schedule tomorrow when your classes resume. We have much to
discuss then."

"But classes don't start until Monday," Tess said,
"and how could you know they're about to wake up?"

"To answer your first question, you’ve been asleep
since Friday afternoon. As to your second, if you pay attention enough to body
heat, it's easy to see when someone is sleeping or awake. It's a minute
difference, but a difference nevertheless. I'll see you tomorrow."

He rose and gave her arm a quick squeeze. Then he headed for
the door. Just as he reached it, Tess called out to him.

"Hawk?"

He paused and looked back.

"It's good to see you."

He smiled and nodded. "The same." Then he was
gone.

Tess sighed and looked at the ceiling. She felt something
warm on her arm, and she looked down to see a silver bracelet that she had
never noticed before. It quivered when she looked at it, and crooned at her.
She smiled and touched it.

"I'm okay, Stel," she said. He wiggled and reached
up to touch her finger. Then another sound caused him to revert to the
bracelet.

"About time you woke up," Iris said with a broad
yawn.

Rox jerked awake at the sound and wiped her mouth. "You
okay, Tess? I almost had a heart attack when you collapsed like that. I thought
you were dead."

"I don't break that easily," she said, relieved to
see them both. "What did I miss?"

"A lot," Iris said. "What you did is big news
here—and planetside. The aurens can't explain why a thousand pieces of thick
glass landed in a cornfield. There is also the matter of a couple of wind mages
dead at the Oakridge Terminous."

Tess cringed. "And here?"

"They are calling you a 'heroic example of what mages
should be'."

Tess frowned, sensing there was something they were holding
back. "And?" she prompted.

For the first time since they'd met, Iris seemed hesitant.
Then she said, "Some are saying you are the oracle from the
prophecy."

Great.

She tried to wave it off and moved to get out of bed.
"Let's just get out of here."

"You should wait for a healer," Rox said, her
voice anxious.

"Forget that," Tess said. "I'm fine."

She threw the covers back and rose to her feet. She wobbled
once, but caught herself on the side of the bed. "Let's go." Her
expression caused both girls to close their mouths in unison.

Tess led the way into the hall but only made it a few feet
before a woman wearing a pink knot stopped her.

"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded.

"Out," Tess said, and there was no mistaking the
steel in her voice.

"I need to check you before you go," she said,
matching Tess's glare.

"You can do it here then," Tess said, and waved a
hand at the hall.

She rolled her eyes and reached toward her. As the healer
touched Tess's hand she felt a wave of cool air blow through her flesh. The
next moment it withdrew.

"You appear to be fine," the healer said.
"For now. Come back if your headache resumes or you begin to feel
nauseous—or you can ignore me as I'm sure you intend to do."

Despite her annoyance Tess grinned. That was exactly what
she'd planned. The healer's frankness changed her mind. "I’ll come back if
I need to," she said, and the woman appeared satisfied. She acquiesced
with a nod and stepped out of the way.

Together, Tess and her friends dodged the other healers and
found an exit. They stepped outside to be greeted by Derek, who was stuffing
food into his mouth as he returned to the building. When he caught sight of
Tess the dismay on his face was almost comical.

He swallowed and glared at his sister. "Why didn't you
send me a message that she was awake?"

"I did," she sniffed. "Where are your
glasses?"

He opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. Then
he grunted and stabbed a finger at Tess. "I didn't leave your side for two
days, you know."

She laughed. Privately she was overjoyed to see him. When
she'd awoken and he hadn't been there, she'd feared the worst. Before she could
respond a pair of students walked by, whispering and craning to get a look at
Tess.

"Can we just get out of here?" Tess pleaded once
they were gone. "There are still a few hours of the weekend left, and I
would love to just relax somewhere."

"Surfing?" Rox asked.

Relieved at the suggestion, Tess nodded and stepped down to
join Derek. Halfway across the field Iris broke the silence.

"This is stupid, Tess. Are you going to tell them the
truth? . . . or should I?"

Chapter 27: Truth

Tess couldn't do it, so Iris followed through. After she
told them, Tess couldn't meet Derek’s or Rox's eyes. They walked in silence to
the dorms and by unspoken agreement continued to a shadowed bench on the lake.
Then they sat and stared at the water. After several minutes, Derek spoke
first.

"What exactly does that mean?" he said slowly.

"It means she can do every type of magic," Rox
said, "and that supposedly she is meant to unite mages and aurens."

"If that's even possible," Tess said. "All I
know is that I have no idea what I am supposed to do—or be."

Derek punched her shoulder lightly. "All I know
is that you saved our lives."

The other two murmured in agreement and Rox shuddered.
"The only thing worse than falling to your death . . . is being sliced to
pieces on the way down."

Derek and Iris agreed in unison. After another moment, Tess
asked, "Can you guys do me a favor?" They nodded, so she continued in
halting words. "If what I am . . . gets out, I'm not sure I will know who
to trust. The three of you know much more about this world than I, and I need
you to keep me from . . . getting someone killed."

"You think it would come to that?" Rox asked.

On impulse Tess shared what had happened the day she'd met
Hawk, as well as her training sessions with him. Then she explained about her
following the marked one to the Spirus. When she finished even Iris looked
shocked. Rox blew out her breath.

"So you saw the same guy right before our sphere
launched," she said.

"Oh," Iris said, her eyes widening.
"That explains a lot."

Tess turned to her but her eyes had already glazed over.
Typically when her roommate bore that expression she was somewhere else. This
time her expression was one of intense concentration.

"Iris," Derek barked, and she snapped out of it.
She returned to the conversation as if nothing had happened.

"For a couple of years now I have been tracking a group
of people on the nets who call themselves the Harbingers. I first noticed something
about them when I came with Derek for his first quad tour. It was odd, their
messages were shielded, even more than normal."

Tess sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I have no idea
what that means, Iris,"

"In auren terms, their data encryption was off the
charts," Iris said. "It's way harder to crack than the school's
private messages, or even the high council's inter office notes—ˮ

"Do you read all data streams?" Rox asked.

"Yeah," Iris said. Her tone added the, why not?

"So the signal . . .?" Derek prompted.

"Right," Iris blinked. "I'd never seen
anything like it. I was curious, so I started to pick it apart. The magic is
masterful, subtle, and artistic, so I've been cautious. It's taken me a year to
read even some of the notes. Now I'm deep enough that I risk being discovered
at every turn. The only reason I've stayed under the radar is because the
techno mag behind it is beyond arrogant. I doubt he thinks anyone could notice
it, let alone break it."

"What do they say?" Tess asked, doing her best to
keep her impatience from her voice.

"From what I've been able to gather their goal is to
guide the aurens to peace—hence the name. The problem is they think that aurens
will only accept peace it's forced upon them. They believe that it's their
divine duty to remove the auren's ability to choose—whatever the cost."

"What do you mean—whatever the cost?" Derek
pounced on the words.

Iris shivered, and then quoted, "We must convert mages
and aurens to our cause, but witnesses at this point are unacceptable. Use
their children, wives, or parents to force cooperation. If that fails,
eliminate them."

Iris paused, and then added, "That was sent a few
months ago."

"Did they really do that?" Rox asked. Her
expression was of disbelief.

Iris nodded slowly. "I think so. A bunch of mages and
aurens disappeared soon after—and
many of them are upper level masters or of a high rank in the auren militaries."

"Wait," Derek said, and shook his head as if he
were trying to understand. "If some are being killed, then who is joining
the cause?"

"I don't know," Iris said.

"Have you tried to report this?" Rox asked.
"And why haven't we seen the council commenting on it?"

Iris frowned. "You don't think I tried that? As soon as
I knew what was going on, I sent a veiled message to someone in the Mage
Security Bureau. It would have looked like it came from one of his
subordinates. His reply was that they were already looking into it, and that
they suspected a group called The Guild was behind the killings."

"Hold on—who's The Guild?"

"Am I supposed to know everything?" Iris said.
"I have no idea. If they exist, I haven't seen any messages from them.
They might be made up by the Harbingers to turn suspicion away from themselves."

"But why hasn't the council alerted everyone?" Rox
said.

"Because they want to avoid a panic," Tess said.
"Remember how everyone was acting when we did the tour of the high council
room?"

The girls nodded, but Derek's expression was blank. Tess
filled him in on the tense atmosphere. When she finished he was rubbing his
chin, lost in thought. Then he asked, "Iris . . . are any messages coming
from within the Spirus?"

She blinked. "How did you know?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Derek
replied. "A group like this would want control, and if they are gathering
powerful mages and aurens, it means they are operating from somewhere very high
up. It's the only way they could operate unseen."

"Did they mention me?" Tess said.

Iris's expression became apologetic. "They kept
referencing a girl they wanted, but I didn't realize until now that it meant
you."

"Who are they?" Rox asked.

Iris made an irritated noise. "I just told you I
haven't made it that deep into their system. I can tell you there are at least
twenty in the school, and a few hundred scattered throughout the city—an
increasing number of which seem to work in the Spirus. I believe there are a
lot more planetside."

"And they want me dead," Tess said. For some
reason saying it out loud made it worse, and she grimaced.

"It looks that way," Derek said. Then his brow
furrowed in anger. "You both should have told us sooner. We could have
been watching out for them."

Iris and Tess spoke at the same time.

"How was I supposed to know it was talking about her?"

"It's a big thing to drop on someone."

Rox raised her hand to forestall any more disagreement.
"Fine. At least we know now. But what do we do? Tell someone?"

"There's no one to tell," Tess said. "Hawk
wants me to keep it secret for as long as I can. He wants me to understand more
of the mage world before anything is expected of me. After the attack on us, I
think it's only a matter of time now."

Rox rose to her feet. "Then let's surf. The only thing
it appears we can do now is wait and act normal."

The suggestion brought a smile to Tess's lips. It did appeal
to her. After all, what else could she do? And hadn't Rox once said that it was
a great way to practice? "For now," she said, "but you never
answered my question."

"Of course we are going to help," Rox said in
exasperation. "Did you expect us to bail on you?"

"I lied to you," Tess said. "I guess I
expected you to be angry."

Derek surprised her by laughing. "It's hard to be angry
when the person just saved you from plummeting to your death in a
disintegrating ball of glass."

"We'll watch your back," Iris agreed, and then
laughed as well, as if the statement was a private joke.

Derek then touched Tess's arm, drawing her attention to him.
He didn't say anything, but the look in his eye did. Emotion rose into her
throat at the display of support, and she stood to join Rox.

"So," she said with a sigh, "I guess we get
to surf some more."

Rox's grin said it all, and within a minute the two of them
were gliding across the lake. Rox banked in a tight arc, sending water spraying
in a nice fan. Then she sped away. Tess did her best to follow. The surfing did
make her feel better, but her heart remained heavy.

After an hour a pair of other water mages entered the lake
on the opposite side. Even though they could dry themselves easily, they took
their shirts off and began doing tricks on the water. Rox skidded to a stop
next to Tess, drenching her with the side spray.

Tess pulled the moisture from her clothes with an annoyed
flick of her wrist. Then she jerked her head at the boys. "Do you know
them?"

"No," she said. She eyed one as he did a double
corkscrew on his liquid board. He landed flawlessly on a new wave. "But
I'd like to. Let's go meet them."

As if they had heard her, the two boys changed their course
to intercept them. Tess shook her head. Not that she was averse to talking to
attractive, glistening, muscled, shirtless surfers. She just wasn't in the
mood.

"Just because you are the . . . you know, doesn't mean
you can't have fun." Rox said it in an undertone, but Tess shook her head.

"Not today, Rox. Have fun though."

With that she banked her board away from the approaching
boys and zoomed toward the shore. She formed a small wave under her feet that
crested as she reached the edge. Once she was above the dirt she dismissed the
spell. She landed with the wave's remains, and then walked to the bench where
Derek sat with Iris.

"Didn't want to meet them?" he asked, raising his
eyebrow. His mouth twitched like he was hiding a smile.

"Not today. Do you know them?"

"One. He's a year older than me, and as you can see,
pretty talented for his level. I think they are going to advance him after this
quad."

Tess shrugged and looked away. She really didn't care. The
surfing had alleviated a great deal of tension, but it had left her feeling
empty and tired. She watched Rox flirt with the boys for a while, and then
sighed.

"I'm going to skip dinner and get some rest," she
said, rising to her feet.

Derek nodded as if he'd been expecting it. "I figured
as much. I got this for you while you were surfing." He handed her a
pouch. At her questioning look, he added, "Eat it. It will make you feel
better—and I know how
much you like the raspberry bread."

Tess accepted the bag with a grateful smile and said
goodbye. Then she strode toward the walkway. Without a word Iris joined her,
and together they walked toward their room. Tess looked back when she felt
someone's gaze on her, and caught Derek's lingering glance as he turned away.
Shrugging, she wearily climbed the stairs to her room and collapsed onto her
bed. For the second time, she slept in her clothes.

Chapter 28: The Library

Tess managed to get through her classes without drawing too
much attention from her professors. The students were another matter.
Everywhere she went they whispered, pointed, or outright stared. The snatches
she overheard made it clear that they wondered who she was. She left her fire class
in a rush, anxious to escape the scrutiny. For the first time in weeks she
skipped her fire practicum.

She took to the overcast skies the moment she was outside.
Still tired from the ordeal, she flew just high enough to keep the other
students from recognizing her. She outright avoided contact with the other
flyers.

For the first time in weeks she had to don her glasses to
know where to go. Her private lesson with Hawk was clearly marked on her
schedule, and the gold filament guided her south. She passed the earth and
water schools, and flew right over the stadium. She slowed as she soared above
the shield, and watched the handful of students practicing within.

When they spotted her she pretended not to notice. Drake
turned in her direction, but remained where he was. For a long moment she met
his gaze as she glided past. It seemed that Shorn looked up as well but she
couldn't be sure. Reaching the other side, she came to a halt in the air. Two
structures stood within view, and they couldn't have been more different. The
one on the right was sleek and jet black. Mirror smooth walls curved and swept
sharply in various directions, inspiring a sense of intrigue and danger.

She blinked as she realized it was the Unknowable School,
where anti-magic, lightning, and memory were taught. Only a handful of students
approached or left the building, their demeanor echoing the building's.

The other structure was from another era. Gray stones formed
aging towers, walls, and a weathered keep. It even boasted a rusted portcullis.
The citadel appeared ancient, even more so next to the building beside it. The
only similarity between the two was the prevailing feel of forbidding mystery.
The thought was magnified with the backdrop of the cloudwall behind them, and
Tess realized the structures were the last before the southern tip of the school.

The thread led toward the castle, so she dropped into a
smooth dive that took her into the courtyard. Alighting close to the huge
double doors, she eased one open and strode into the darkened interior. She'd
expected to find something out of time, but instead found herself in a library.
Enormous bookshelves lined the cavernous space of the former great hall.

A large fire crackled merrily from the expansive hearth, and
a handful of comfy-looking chairs were arrayed around it. The scent of paper
and warm dryness permeated the space, giving the chamber a surprisingly homey
feel.

She glanced around but saw no one, so she stepped close to one
of the shelves to examine its contents. The brass plaque on the end identified
it as containing books from 4S-7980 through 4S-7989. The inscription meant
nothing to her, so she passed it by.

The solitude and the familiarity of the physical books made
her think of home and her parents. She almost called her mother, but then she
noticed a plaque that was different from the others. The number sequence
displayed 4S-300 through 4S-399, The Second Draeken War: Preceding
and Subsequent Events.

Curious, she stepped into the row and scanned the books.
Collected in a neat line, the twenty or so books appeared older than those
around them, but had been well preserved. Starting from the beginning, she read
the titles. The Second Draeken War, Vol. 1-4 appeared weathered by time
and use. The others were no less worn.

Many of the names were unfamiliar to her, such as Azertorn,
Before and After, The Dark Elf Migration, and Lakonus vs. Taryn.
Others made her curious, such as a trio of books titled Tale of a Thief,
Vol. 1-3, and Tryton's Tale. Then she reached one that caused her
to pause:

Siarra's Story.

Tess felt a chill as she saw the author to be Siarra
Elseerian, her ancestor. She glanced around, and then pulled the book from its
place. She cracked the binding and touched the first page, feeling the softness
of the paper. It looked and felt ancient, and she wondered how old it actually
was. Swallowing at the sudden dryness in her mouth, Tess read the first line .
. .

My name is Siarra Elseerian, and I survived the war—

A tinkling alarm sounded from her glasses, startling her
into dropping the book. Instinctively she reached out to catch it, but it
caught itself. A foot off the floor it came to a stop, and then it soared back
to its slot. With the muffled murmur of leather on leather it slid home. Tess
breathed a sigh and turned off the alarm with a glance. Then she realized why
it had sounded. She was late.

Annoyed at herself, she reactivated her guide and followed
the gold thread to the back of the hall. It led her down a long corridor and up
the winding staircase of a turret. On all sides she passed rooms that were
equally filled with books. Some were large, and held shiny signs signifying
their source. Others were much smaller. Near the top of the turret she passed a
tiny alcove that bore a dimmed plaque.

The Age of Oracles, she read as she ascended. Reluctantly
she passed it by. After another level her legs began to burn with fatigue, and so
she stepped into the air. Flying up the staircase, she landed at the top and
strode into a high-ceilinged chamber.

Twin fireplaces crackled on opposite sides of the room, and
lit the towering bookshelves that lined the walls. Across from the entrance a
massive bay window displayed the southern side of the stadium. The topmost
branches of the dormitories and a few of the larger schools were visible in the
distance.

A flash of light drew her attention upward, where she saw
that the ceiling was made of glass. On a clear day the sun would have streamed
into the space, but today the clouds had darkened further. Rain splattered the
roof as lightning flashed.

"You're late," Hawk said from a chair next to the
fire.

She jumped at the sound, and then smiled apologetically.
"I got caught up with the books downstairs."

He lifted the volume he'd been reading. "I know the
feeling."

"What is this place?" she asked, and moved to sit
across from him.

He tossed the book aside and it caught itself before soaring
to its home. "It used to be Tryton’s Academy of Magic." His voice was
oddly nostalgic as he swept a hand outward. "It was built more than nine
thousand years ago by Siarra, the last of the ancient oracles."

"What changed?"

"Time," Hawk said with a sigh. "As the newer
buildings were constructed this one became obsolete. For a while it served as
the school's library, but has seen little use since the omni-glasses were
created."

"Why?" she asked. "It's beautiful."

"You voice my sentiments," Hawk said with a smile,
"but alas, few of the newer students view it that way."

"Is that why we’re meeting here?" she asked
shrewdly. "The solitude?"

His lips twitched. "Partly," he admitted. "As
far as I know there is only one monitoring mote here, and it hasn't been
maintained well."

"What's a monitoring mote?"

"The aurens would think of it as a wireless camera, but
it's an inorganic eye that connects to the techno grid." He issued a sigh
of regret. "They get smaller every year—and harder to avoid."

Their conversation was interrupted as Stel unwrapped from
Tess's arm. Curving as if he were stretching, he then flowed to the floor and
turned into a silver cat. He threw a glance back at Tess and then began to
prowl the room.

"I see you have made a friend," Hawk said.

Tess shrugged at the amusement in his tone. "I guess
so. Iris said he chose me. Most of the time he stays a bracelet or
necklace."

"That's because he's getting to know you," Hawk
said. "Grends like to watch their new masters for a while. It helps them
in their bonding process."

He reached down when Stel passed his chair. Tess raised a
hand in warning, but it proved to be unnecessary. Hawk absently scratched the
back of Stel's ears. The grend opened its jaws in a giant yawn before curling
up beside his chair.

"How did you do that?" Tess asked. She was
fascinated. Stel had hardly moved since she'd gotten him, and she'd begun to
think of him as a piece of jewelry.

"Animals tend to like me," Hawk said, "even
grends."

Tess stared at the complacent Stel, feeling like there was
something she was missing. After a moment she had an idea that reminded her of
their interrupted conversation. "Can a student tap into monitoring motes?"
she asked.

"No," Hawk said, "or at least they are not supposed
to be able to. The grid is maintained by the Bureau of Magical
Technology."

Despite the confidence in his words, Tess was unconvinced.
How else did Iris see so much? Still, it seemed impossible for one student to
be better at her craft than an entire organization of techno mages . . . or was
it? How many times had Iris known the impossible?

"Can I ask you a question?" Tess asked.

"Of course."

"Are the Harbingers killing people?"

His eyebrow shot up, and then knit together. "Iris."

She nodded, causing him to sigh. "Yes, Tess, they
are."

"A lot?"

His expression was solemn as he held her gaze. "They
are expanding at an alarming rate—and they are growing bolder."

"What are they trying to do?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," he
replied.

She looked away, and then said, "Can I help?"

"You will. For now you need to practice."

Her expression soured, but instead of agreeing she asked,
"What about The Guild?"

His expression betrayed his surprise. "Where did you
hear that?"

"Iris mentioned that some in the Spirus think the Guild
is behind it all, but she hadn't been able to confirm that it even existed."

"Do they now," he said, and his fingers
intertwined on his lap. For a moment his brow was furrowed in thought, but then
he shook himself. "We will discuss The Guild another time. Shall we begin
today's lesson?"

She knew she had been deflected, but his expression made it
clear that they needed to move on. "Are we going to practice magic in
here?" Tess asked, gesturing at the books that suddenly seemed fragile.

"Of sorts," Hawk said. "The attempts on your
life indicate to me that we have less time than I had hoped for, so we will
have to accelerate your training. From our previous session I know you have
been developed your fire skill to an impressive level, but you won't be using
your power today. Get comfortable, and shift into your magesight."

"Attempts?" Tess pounced on the word. "How
many have there been?"

Hawk’s expression made it clear that he was considering what
to tell her. Then he shrugged. "There have been three to my knowledge. I'm
sure you can recall two of them."

"And the third?" she asked. Had the marked one
spoken the truth?

"It happened a week before the mid-quad exams," he
said quietly. "One of my men stopped it—and
before you ask, yes, I have several people placed to protect you. Speaking of
which, it might be best if you don't take any more late night excursions."

She jerked in surprise. Perhaps someone had followed
her that night. "Sorry about that," she said. "But I did learn
some things." She told him about the conversation she had overheard.

He issued a rumbling grunt. "You did well—but were fortunate not to be
caught. You must be more cautious in the future."

She wanted to ask more but Hawk raised a hand. "In
time. Right now we must practice. It is more important than anything else, and
time is short."

"But—"

"I promise I will tell you everything," he said.
"But if I take the time to tell you now it will leave you vulnerable
later."

His refusal only served to magnify her curiosity, but she
could not ignore the sincerity in his gaze. Reluctantly, she swallowed the host
of questions. "If you think that's best . . ."

"I thank you for your patience. Now . . . shift into
your magesight."

Tess did as requested, and the world became a vibrant
display of colors. She was not surprised to see a thread of purple in every
book on the shelves.

"You know by now that the colors represent magic and
energy," Hawk began, "and that mages can only see what they can
manipulate. You should also know that some types of magics, such as earth and
body, require more of an innate sense than the magesight. To me, this room is a
dull gray except for the red of heat, which is concentrated in our bodies, and
the fires."

"I see that, and a thousand more colors," Tess
said.

"Excellent," he said. "Now, there is much
more to your magesight than just energy. Because you can see all energies, you
can see everything from emotions, to memories, and even a person's race. You
just have to learn how to identify the more subtle combinations within people.
If you examine me, you should see that the complexity to my energy is distinct
from anything else."

"And brighter," Tess said, and felt the urge to
blink. The red within Hawk was like the sun compared to the fire next to him.

"I believe the stronger an emotion, the more powerful
the magic, and the more intense the thought, the brighter the color will
be."

"How do you know all this?" Tess asked. "Have
you seen it as well?"

"No," Hawk said with a wry smile. "But I had
a good tutor, and she helped me understand what you would see." Tess was
about to ask who, but Hawk continued.  "The other thing that is unique
about you is your farsight, which is the ability of an oracle to see the
future. It's how the prophecy of your destiny came about."

"Siarra?"

Hawk gave a slow nod. "And her mother, Ianna. Both
prophesied about you, and both took steps to help." He raised his hand to
stop her question. "For now, what is important is your own farsight."

His refusal to share was beginning to grate, so she said, "I
thought you said you wouldn't withhold things from me."

He regarded her, a slight frown creasing his features. "Would
you have me waste time giving you knowledge you can't use now—and leave you weak later? Or
help you get stronger? You may make the choice if you prefer." He put his
fingers together and waited.

She was tempted to choose the information, but satisfying
her curiosity seemed like a poor excuse. The correct choice was obvious, and
not just in the way Hawk had phrased it. Whenever he spoke there was frank
honesty to his words, as if he never held anything back.

Besides her parents, no one had ever treated her in such a
manner, or believed she was smart enough to make her own decisions. The way
Hawk talked to her made her want to rise to the level of respect being given.
Fleetingly she wondered if that was part of Hawk's design, or what he believed
in everyone.

"Practice," she said finally, and Hawk smiled.

"Then go back into your sight and imagine yourself
looking into the next few minutes. If you do it right, the colors should fade
to gray. The farther you go the more objects will diffuse into something akin
to grayish clouds. Your own body should appear almost ethereal, and blue in
color."

She tried for an hour, but made little progress. Several
times she thought the colors had faded to a degree, but they never disappeared
completely. By the end of the hour her fatigue was causing her to regress in
her ability, so Hawk stopped her.

"That's enough. You need food and more rest, especially
after last week. Get dinner and some sleep. You can practice more throughout
your week."

She nodded and did her best to hide her discouragement. She
was glad that he'd called for a halt because she'd been unwilling to admit
defeat. Wiping sweat from her brow, she stood.

"There is one last thing I need to tell you,
Tess." His brow creased slightly, as if he were worried.

She indicated for him to continue.

"After what you did, things have changed. As I am sure
you have heard, someone brought up the possibility of you being the oracle.
People in the city are clamoring to know if it's true, and the school is
getting pressured to find out who you really are. I am doing what I can to slow
them, but I believe they are going to hasten your presenting."

He rose to his feet. "If that happens, they will find
out exactly what you can do, and your current scrutiny will be nothing compared
to then."

"I thought I would have until the next quad," she
said. She hated that her stomach had tightened in fear.

"Frankly, I doubt I can hold them until then. The high
council has summoned the school directors to a special meeting about the
upcoming vote. The event is unrelated to you, but if they are all in the city .
. .”

"They may decide to stop by the school." She felt
like an iron band was constricting her lungs.

Hawk nodded. "If they do, you will lose the shield of
anonymity, and there will likely be more attempts on your life." His expression
tightened in apology. "I am sorry, Tess."

"Thank you for the time you gave me," she said,
her face frozen.

"For now, I am putting more of my friends to guard you.
They will be discreet, I assure you, but you should be on your guard from here
on out. I can't promise I will be here all the time, but I will be by your side
as much as I can."

"I know, Hawk." She gave an empty smile.
"It's the only thing that's keeping me sane."

She called for Stel, who leisurely crossed the room and
hopped toward her. A moment later he'd turned into a necklace around her neck.

"Until next time, Hawk," she said.

"Be safe, Tess," he replied.

And don't get killed, she thought as she departed.

Chapter 29: The Heart of Fire

Hawk remained in the library until Tess had soared into the
distance. Then he sighed and turned away. Was he doing the right thing? There
was so much that she still needed to learn. His time was slipping away like
water in his hands. His thoughts heavy, he strode from the chamber and
descended through the ancient castle.

He passed the main hall and continued to the lower levels.
Reaching a painting of a phoenix, he ignited the likeness of a firebird in his
palm. In the painting the phoenix turned into a man and nodded at him. Then the
painting swung away from the wall. As he descended into the secret passage he
heard the door grind shut behind him.

The moment reminded him of a very good friend, and how she
had showed him the passage for the first time. It brought a smile to his lips,
and he wondered how she would be faring in his place.

He reached the bottom, and turned into a long, dusty tunnel.
Lit by a faint glow from the ancient lamps, it stretched away into the
distance. Hawk strode down the corridor. Although he passed several side paths,
he walked to the very end and opened the ironbound door. He stepped out onto a
small balcony with a view of the cloudwall. Cleverly hidden behind a curve of
rock, the opening was invisible to any but those who knew where to look.

As he closed the door a tinkling sound issued from a pocket
in his cloak. Donning his spectacles, he was surprised to see a message from
Breaker waiting for him. He flicked his gaze to it. Anger blossomed within him
as he read the garbled message. It ended abruptly, so he read it again. Then he
activated a trace spell that his senior technology mage had created for him. A
faint purple swirled around his glasses and leapt away, a moment later the
location appeared in his field of vision. He frowned in surprise, and stared at
the cloudwall without seeing it.

He carefully examined the options that lay before him. Then
he sent a brief message to a trio of representatives within the Guild. His
course set, he removed the glasses and strapped them into place. Then he jumped
from the balcony.

In ten minutes he was flying hard toward Brazil in his true
form. Since it was still the afternoon he stuck to the storm clouds and settled
into a pace that would get him to his destination by morning. By dawn he'd
reached the source.

But there was nothing there.

He crisscrossed the location a few times in the pre-dawn
light, wondering if he had been mistaken. Then he saw the water ripple like it
were moving through an invisible mesh. A moment later his superior vision
caught the movement a second time. Realizing what it was, he folded his wings
and plummeted toward the water. A moment later he banked out of the dive and angled
his path to the east side of the invisible wall.

Just as he pierced the line he morphed into a human form and
landed on a previously unseen rocky beach. Invisible from outside the magic, a
towering castle rose into the sky. Built onto a tiny outcropping of rock, the
forgotten fortress lay only forty miles off the Brazilian coastline.

Hawk scanned for any heat signatures that would indicate his
arrival had been noticed. There was nothing he could do about monitoring motes,
but at least he could still check for bodies. Seeing no one, he began to climb.
Ignoring the path that led to the front of the castle, he used his magic to
melt handholds into the stone wall. When he was fifty feet off the ground he
paused so a sentry could pass below him. When the hooded figure had moved on
Hawk continued. By the time the sun had started to rise, Hawk had reached the
top.

Selecting a darkened window, he peered through it. With an
empty storeroom to welcome him, he climbed through the window and began his
search. It quickly became apparent that the level he was on had been dedicated
to prisoners. Bars fashioned of anti-magic closed off the numerous empty cells.

He paused when he discovered a room with a handful of bars
missing. Entering it, he found a few sets of broken shackles. Three were
enormous, and could only have been used for rock trolls. The last was evidently
for a human. Satisfied, he slipped from the cell.

He kept his footfalls silent, his eyes wary. Upon finding a
discarded cloak and hood, he donned them and moved on. Once he had thoroughly
searched the highest level, he followed a set of stairs down one floor. Unlike
the one above it, this one was occupied with countless bedchambers—and many of
them were occupied.

Hawk walked past them with long, purposeful strides, and no
one paused to question him. After a discreet search he descended deeper into
the castle. Again he moved through scattered Harbingers, and again he found
nothing.

One by one he searched each floor on his way to the bottom.
He took his time to ensure he missed nothing, and to avoid scrutiny. Lunch had
come and gone when he reached the dungeon. After two empty corridors he found
what he sought.

A pair of guards flanked a large strongdoor. Both turned at
his approach, but Hawk didn't respond to their queries. Ten feet away they
dropped into a battle stance and gathered their magic. Hawk was quicker.

Rather than launching a fireball, he ignited one between
them. The small detonation slammed them into opposite walls. Stone crunched as
they struck and slid to the floor. Hawk moved to the strongdoor and sent a
surge of heat into it. It melted into a puddle of steaming liquid, and then solidified
as he drew the heat from it.

He felt a wave of relief as he saw Breaker—but it blossomed
into rage when he realized that the man had been tossed to the floor like a
pile of trash. Hawk darted to his side and felt for a pulse. Finding one, he
rolled the man onto his back.

"Guildmaster?" he mumbled.

Breaker fell silent as his strength failed him. His face was
a mask of dried blood and old wounds. His arms and chest bore the same marks.
Hawk's jaw tightened as he realized the probable time of the injuries was weeks
ago. Drawing a pouch from his side, he dribbled the cool liquid into Breaker's
mouth.

The stone mage coughed, but managed to keep it down. With his
throat clear, Breaker accepted Hawk's help to rise. Then he attempted to push
Hawk away.

"You have to go," Breaker growled. His one good
eye was searing in its intensity. He took another swig of water, and it gave
him more strength. "Varson meant for you to come."

"They presume to try and trap me?" He gave a wry
smile that dissolved into rage. Then he spoke with the timbre of vengeful
indignation. "Then they have invited death to their door!"
Seeing fear lance through his friend, Hawk took a breath to steady himself.
Then in a normal voice, he said, "Let's get you out of here."

"Wait," Breaker said. Hawk tried to shush him, but
Breaker brushed his arm out of the way. "The deaths among the mages and
aurens weren't what we should have been looking at . . ."

"Why?" Hawk asked.

Breaker's good eye was bright as he said, "Because the
ones who were killed were only those that refused the Harbinger's
efforts. The ones I recognized here indicate that nearly every branch of the
mage government has been infected."

Hawk's jaw tightened at the revelation, and he mentally
cursed himself for not seeing it. "How do we stop them?"

Breaker shook his head. He winced at the movement, but his
eye sparkled with anger. "If the judges are Harbingers, the laws will not
hold them."

Something shifted within Hawk, causing him to straighten.
Like a pendulum had swung to the opposite side, he realized what Breaker was
saying. In the stillness of the cell, he asked, "Has justice been
compromised?"

Breaker gave a reluctant nod. "I think we have to
assume it has."

"Then I have no reason to stay my hand." His tone
was still and quiet, yet it seemed to chill the air inside the cell.

Without waiting for a response, Hawk helped Breaker to his
feet. Then he guided him from the room. He stopped only to take one of the
guard's cloaks and put it on Breaker. Then he lifted his own hood, dropping his
face into shadow.

Cautious and slow, they worked their way up to the main
floor. Twice they ducked into a dark alcove so hooded men could pass. A moment
later they reached the stairs upward, but found them to be blocked by a handful
of guards descending toward them.

Hawk and Breaker dodged away before they could be seen, and
moved to the only clear path, the front door. Sensing the trap, Hawk decided to
forego the subtle tactics. He strode down the empty corridor and entered the
courtyard in front of the keep. Hundreds of cloaked figures surrounded the
square. Hawk noticed the signs of battle at the main doors to the keep.
Ignoring the Harbingers, he helped Breaker walk through the gap in the middle.

Someone called his name, but Hawk kept going. Striding under
the portcullis, he walked Breaker to the end of the dock. Again he ignored the
voice that called him as he placed his friend into the boat.

"There's no motor," Breaker whispered.

"Just stay down," Hawk said. "When it's over,
head back to Auroraq. I will meet you there soon."

For a third time the voice called his name, and this time it
carried a trace of irritation. Breaker looked over Hawk's shoulder, his
unswollen eye wide. "There are too many, Hawk. There's no way you can
fight them."

"I don't mean to fight them . . .," Hawk said, and
felt the fury of his true self rise to the fore. He didn't suppress it. "I
mean to punish them."

The voice from the castle barked at him, but before it had
finished his name Hawk spun to face the gathered crowd. Hundreds of hooded
figures stood on the battlements, on the rocks, and on the pier itself. The
ones closest to the water had already begun to gather water into their hands,
preparing for the onslaught that was about to begin.

In the face of their might Hawk bared his teeth, and
interrupted the black-eyed man that had been calling his name.

"Hawk, do you see—"

"Harbingers, mercy is not in my nature to give, but I
will grant you a solitary chance. Those of you who wish to live . . . may flee.
The rest will accept the full punishment for your crimes."

Hawk folded his arms and stared at Varson, who appeared
flustered at the statement. Regaining his composure, he sneered.

"We have planned this moment with great care, and will
end you, Guildmaster. Our plan is finally in motion, and you will not
live to see us rule this world."

"A hunter should know his prey before he sets a trap."
Hawk's words were spoken in a deadly calm, causing more than a few in the ranks
to fidget and look at one another. When no one was looking, a few slunk away
and disappeared from view.

Varson appeared confused, but his confusion was soon
replaced by anger. "It's time for you to—ˮ

His features froze in horror as he watched Hawk begin to
change shape. Boards groaned in protest as Hawk's feet were replaced with
massive claws. Hawk's body swelled and added feathers, and his arms became
massive wings.

The hooked beak and piercing eyes of an enormous bird looked
down on the trembling ranks of men. Wreathed in the flame of his birthright,
the phoenix spread his wings and shrieked his war cry, causing the very marrow
in their bones to quake.

To a man, the gathered Harbingers fell to their knees and
covered their ears, screaming in stark terror of what lay before them. His
challenge issued, Hawk launched himself into the air. Fire from his wings
poured into their ranks as most fled into the castle. The rest panicked and counter-attacked.
Streams of water lanced into Hawk's flanks, bursting into steam as it came in
contact with the fire on his body. A pair of earth mages launched blocks of stone
at him.

Hawk sent fire at the group, shredding them and sending
their charred bodies into the sea. Then Hawk turned his attention to the ones
inside the castle. Varson had managed to rally his troops, who were manning a
collection of anti-magic ballistae. One bolt released before Hawk could destroy
it, and it pierced the lower part of his wing. Liquid fire and sparks burst
from the wound.

Hawk shrieked in pain and rage and launched himself upward.
Landing on the battlements, he used his wings to strike two ballistae. Each
detonated into kindling, sending chunks of flaming wood and iron to rain down
on their operators. Before anything else could be fired at him he pounced on
the next two in line, and annihilated them as he had the first. In seconds the
last two had been pulverized.

Then he turned on the castle itself. He'd searched it
thoroughly, so he was confident it contained nothing but the enemy. The thought
was fleeting as he dropped into the courtyard and gathered his might. The flame
coursing across his great body changed from red to white, and then phased to
blue.

Magnified a hundredfold by his innate power, the flames on
his back seared the stones of the courtyard, setting everything within fifty
yards ablaze. The flagstones themselves began to crack at the mounting heat.
Then Reiquen, ancient phoenix of Lumineia, Son of the Ancient, unleashed his
supreme spell.

The blue fire detonated, shattering the courtyard walls into
oblivion. Stone and mortar disintegrated and exploded outward, shredding the
supports and base levels of the keep. The concussive blast cascaded into the
upper floors of the castle, obliterating them before they could begin to fall,
and tore into the island itself. The resulting shockwave of sound was like an
avalanche of thunder across the ocean.

Torn asunder, most of the island collapsed into the sea.
Piles of molten stone and metal released great plumes of steam as they sank
beneath the surface. Hawk launched himself skyward as the island sank beneath
him. He issued a shrieking cry of triumph as he flapped his way into the sky.

Breaker huddled in the boat, the sole witness to Hawk's
justice.

Chapter 30: Tipping Point

Iris stopped dead in her tracks, her face rigid. Tess turned
to face her. They were on their way to the mind school after Tess had finished
Remedial Magic. Since the first day of classes they had done so, and without
fail Iris had been her usual self. This time, Iris's expression caused a spark
of fear in Tess.

"What?" Tess asked.

"We may have a problem," Iris said slowly, her
eyes flickering back and forth as if she were scanning various documents.

Tess was tempted to write it off as normal techno behavior,
but something in Iris's gaze caused her to stand fast. "Tell me," she
said.

"Our friend Hawk got a message after you met with him
in the library. The note was damaged, which is very odd. The only reason I can
think that would cause that, is if the sending device was destroyed in the same
moment the message was sent. It was also heavily shrouded against detection.
I've been trying to crack it all night."

Tess rubbed her forehead, but didn't question how Iris knew
about her lesson with Hawk. "What was the message about?" she asked.

"It's a warning from a Rayth, and mentions a sword and
a key. That's all I can make out."

"What did Hawk do?"

"He traced the signal to its source and went after
it."

"Can we contact him?"

She jerked her head. "Hawk disabled his glasses, just
as he does every time he leaves the city. I don't think he wants someone
tracking his movements."

"Someone like you?"

"Someone like them," Iris corrected,
frowning at her tone.

"Can you track the message as well?"

"I already did," Iris said with a trace of
annoyance.

Tess shrugged. "I'm pretty sure Hawk can handle
himself."

"He's going to the wrong place," Iris said,
catching her arm.

"How can you possibly know that?"

"Because I have been tracking the person controlling
the Harbinger's network. He's made a pretty extensive effort to hide it, but
it's not impervious. He and a large group of Harbingers are going somewhere
else."

Tess was at a loss for words. Iris's tone made it clear that
she thought action was required, but what could they do? They were just
students. For some reason she thought of how Hawk had always talked to her. How
would Hawk react if he found out that she'd left the school without permission?

"Where are they?" she asked.

"Where are who?" Derek said as he joined them. Rox
was by his side.

"Where did you guys come from?" Tess asked. She
knew they had conflicting schedules, so what had brought them? She turned to
Iris.

"Glad you got my message," Iris said to them.

"You didn't give me much of a choice," Rox said
with a faint smile. "You sent a message to my professor to cancel the
class at the same time you summoned me. Now what's this all about?"

Tess filled them in. When she reached the part about the
intercepted message Derek stiffened.

"A key—and
a sword," he said. "Are you certain?"

Iris nodded, her gaze narrowing as she read Derek's
expression. "You know what they are."

"Not they," Derek said, and his tone carried a
harsh intensity. "It. The sword is the key."

"How can a sword be a key?" Rox asked.

Derek wiped his face before replying, as if the movement
would ward off the answer. "It's the Sword of Elseerian. In the Second
Draeken War it was used to slay Draeken—who had linked his own life to the
portal that contained his army. Since the sword was used to kill him, some
mages think it became a key that could re-open the portal."

"Wait," Tess said, "I thought the portal to
his army was closed forever."

Derek shook his head. "Not forever. A lot of people
have speculated that it was just closed for 10,000 years, just like it was
after the First Draeken War."

"And the anniversary is next spring," Rox said,
her face turning to ash. "That's the only time it could be reopened . . .
right?"

"I don't know," Derek said. "It's been a long
time since then. All I know is that the last time the fiends were released they
nearly annihilated everything on the planet. I can't imagine why the Harbingers
would want—ˮ

"Control," Tess said, all emotion draining from
her voice. "With the fiends at their command, aurens and mages
would have no choice but to submit. They would have the power to make
the nations obey."

"If they get the sword," Iris said.

Derek cut in, "Where is it?"

"The rock trolls guard it, don't they?" Rox said,
and they turned to her. "I once heard my father talk about them. I think
he mentioned that the villages take turns guarding a sword."

"That makes sense," Iris said with a nod to
herself.

The three of them stared at her, until Tess ground the
question out, "Why does that make sense, Iris?"

"Because the Harbingers are headed toward the village
in southern Utah."

"How!" Derek exploded. "How can you see where
they are going!"

Iris shrugged like it should have been obvious.
"Because I have placed my own monitoring motes all over the city. Most are
video, but some could only be audio—like the ones in the high council chamber.
That's where someone is leaving to meet the Harbingers."

Iris raised an eyebrow when the three of them stared at her.
"What? Did you think I was just slapping the walls for no reason? That
would just be crazy."

Derek blew out his breath in exasperation. "Can we stay
focused? We can't go after them. We are just students, and not trained like
that."

"Who are we supposed to trust?" Iris threw the
words at him. "I don't know everything, you know."

"We can contact my father," Rox said. "He's
an upper level Rayth. We can trust him, and he will know what to do."

"Can you get him a message?" Tess asked, grasping
at the lifeline.

Iris sniffed. "Of course. What's his name?"

"Breaker," Rox said. "He's a first rank Rayth
in the Battlemages . . ."

Iris's face had gone white. In barely above a whisper, she
said, "He's the one that Hawk is going after. The Harbingers already have
him."

Rox's face went rigid with disbelief. "That can't be.
He's one of the best stone mages in the last decade."

Tess turned away from Iris's sympathy and Rox's denial. What
could she do? She was just fifteen, and had only been using her magic for a
couple of months. How could anyone expect her to try and stop this? Still, she
felt an inexorable pull to go, as if her gut knew what needed to be done.

She tried to imagine the conversation if Hawk was there, and
saw his level gaze staring back at her. She was confident he wouldn't be upset
with her—if she trusted
her instincts. He would simply expect her to accept the consequences of her
actions.

Because you are the Oracle.

The words resounded in her head, but they came in Hawk's
voice. In that moment Tess realized why Hawk had treated her the way he had,
and tutored her in such a fashion. He hadn't shielded her so she could stand
idle. It was so she could act when action was called for. She squared her
shoulders.

"I'm going," she said, interrupting Rox and Iris.
Derek and the girls turned to face her, and she added. "I think it's what
Hawk would want me to do. You can come or stay. It's up to you."

"Well of course I'm going," Iris said. "You
wouldn't know where to go without me."

"Me too," Rox said. "I owe it to my
father."

Derek looked at the three of them, and then finally threw
his hands in the air. "I can't let you go alone."

"Iris, can you get a message to Hawk?" Tess said.
"He should know where we are going."

Her expression became uncertain. "I can send him a
note, but he may not get it in time. He tends to forget that he left his
spectacles off."

Tess felt a burst of annoyance at him. "So how do we
contact him?"

Her friends stared back at her or shook their heads. Then
Tess felt a quiver at her neck. Jumping down her arm, Stel curled around her
palm. She raised the creature to her face. "Stel, do you think you can get
to him?"

Stel flickered purple and floated off her hand. Then it
morphed into a strange, angular bird. He did not flap his wings.

"Look at that," Iris said, "he's absorbed a
little of your gravity magic."

Derek reached out to touch him, but the bird changed into a
pair of jaws and tried to bite him. He yanked his hand back with a laugh.
"Well, at least we know nobody can tamper with him."

"Are you sure you can find him?" Tess asked the
grend.

Stel yawned and then shifted back into bird form. It flew
around her neck before soaring into the sky. "Be safe, Stel," she
called. She felt a tightening in her chest as he disappeared.

"Iris, send the message," Derek said. Tess glared
at him, to which he added, "Just in case."

Rox then swept her hands wide. "Now that we are
committed, how do we get there? It's not like the Terminous goes to their
doorstep."

A diabolical grin spread on Iris's face, and without a word
she turned south.

Chapter 31: Seeking the Sword

To Tess's annoyance, Iris ignored their questions. Instead
she walked briskly to the stadium. Once she'd ensured that no one was present
she led them to the Tempest shelf and came to a halt in front of a black door
that Tess recognized.

"We can fly," Iris said, and gestured to the
locked door.

"No," Derek said, jerking his head in the
negative. "It's beyond illegal. Not even Tess is supposed to use an air
board until she earns a fire knot."

"I'm with Derek, Iris," Rox said, her expression
nervously flicking between them. "Air boards are strictly forbidden for
anyone but a class two flyer, and the punishments are pretty severe—not to mention it's
dangerous."

"Do we have another option?" Iris said, and folded
her arms.

"People die because they can't control the boards,
Iris." Derek said. "And none of us knows how to use one anyway."

Iris turned her gaze to Tess, causing her to shift
nervously. "I do," she admitted. "Drake taught me a few weeks
ago."

Derek threw his hands in the air. "So we have one
person who can use a board. What makes you think any of the rest of us
can?"

"The boards can be used by anyone," Iris insisted.
"The only reason the law even exists is because a bunch of nonflyers
died."

Derek's expression became triumphant, but Iris didn't let
him speak. "But—the only reason they fell was because they were foolhardy.
Besides, if one of us falls, Tess can catch us."

"What about the flight safety harnesses?" Rox
said. "Could we wear them?"

Tess shook her head in chagrin. "I left mine back in my
room, and you have to borrow them from the mind school."

"We don't need them," Iris argued. "Tess can
handle it. She has already proved she can."

Derek's jaw worked, but no sound came out. In the silence
Rox said, "She has a point, Derek. Tess would be able to keep us safe,
right?" She glanced at Tess, who nodded after a moment's hesitation.

"If I can carry all of you, I know I can handle one of
you," she said.

Iris's grin made it clear she sensed victory.
"Brother?" she asked. "I know you have always wanted to fly.
This is your chance."

He shook his head and looked away. "I know, Iris, but I
wouldn't risk any of your lives to do it."

"Do you see any other choice?" she repeated. She folded
her arms. "Because I don't."

The girls stared at Derek until he blew out his breath.
"You're right. I don't see any other option."

"So how do we get through the door?" Tess said.
"It's warded against intrusion."

"I cracked it while we were talking," Iris said,
her voice smug as she reached behind her and opened the door.

Derek laughed ruefully, and then said, "If I am going
to die, I might as well get to fly first."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Rox said
acidly.

Tess agreed, and then led the way into the long hallway of
boards. "Pick one of those four," she said. "I don't know if I
can control a wind board."

As her friends selected from the liquid boards, Tess paused
at Drake's. Should she ask him for his help? With all his skill in Tempest he
would be an asset if things became a fight. She opened her mouth to suggest it,
but at the last moment decided against it. She'd avoided him over the last few
weeks, and it seemed he'd made even less effort to spend time with her. Whether
it was because she'd rebuffed him or he'd lost interest, she couldn't say that
she trusted him.

Then she noticed an empty space next to Drake's and realized
that Shorn's board was missing. She did a quick count and realized that his was
the only one not in its slot. She frowned at that, wondering if it implied what
she thought it did.

"Ready, Tess?" Derek said.

She nodded and grabbed the first fire board she saw. Then
she followed her friends out to the shelf. The others stared at her
expectantly, so she echoed Drake's words to her.

"Has anyone snowboarded, surfed, or skateboarded?"

"Does lake surfing count?" Rox asked. Tess nodded,
causing Rox to grin. "If it's anything like that, I'm going to like
it."

Both Derek and Iris had been snowboarding, so Tess set about
demonstrating how to balance. One by one the others followed her lead. After
adjusting her friends’ stance, she crafted a touch of gravity magic to propel
Rox first. Then she attached it to the back of her board the way she'd been
trained in gravity class.

Rox squeaked as her board pushed away from the shelf, and
she crouched lower on the board. Tess soared after her, enjoying the momentary
thrill as her board obeyed her will. After a few experimental turns it seemed
that Rox had gotten the hang of it.

"It's just like water surfing," Rox exclaimed with
a laugh.

"Stay close," Tess said, "just in case—and no
flips."

Rox nodded, so Tess helped Derek get going. Growing up in
Colorado he'd been snowboarding quite a bit, so he took to the board well. Once
he was in the air, Tess turned to Iris. Crouched and with her arms out, Iris
was as balanced as possible, but her smile had been replaced with tight lips
and a white expression.

"I'm here if you need me," Tess murmured.

"It doesn't mean I'm not afraid of the fall," Iris
said. Despite her earlier bravado, she was trembling. "Perhaps I should
have mentioned that when the Terminous orb shattered I nearly passed out I was
so scared."

"You weren't the only one," Tess admitted.

"Are you guys coming?" Rox asked. She was spinning
in a lazy circle twenty feet off the shelf.

"You can do this," Tess said to Iris, and banked
her board so she hovered beside her. Iris swallowed and nodded.

"Let's go," Iris said. "Before I lose my
nerve."

Side by side they coasted away from the shelf. After a
moment Rox took up a position on Tess's opposite flank, and then Derek fell
into place behind them.

"Someone's coming," he said.

Tess glanced to where Derek indicated and saw a collection
of students approaching the arena. They weren't close enough to identify who was
stealing the boards, but they would be soon.

"Hold on," she said, and then accelerated the four
of them toward the opposite side of the arena.

Controlling the four boards was easier when she kept them in
sync. If she did, they felt like one object, rather than four. She took them
behind a planet and used its bulk to block the view of the arriving students.
Then she pushed them through the shield.

Ducking behind the opposite side of the stands, Tess flew
them toward the library. Her heart was in her throat as she swerved and banked behind
its turrets. Two minutes later they were enveloped by the cloudwall.

The darkness pressed heavily on her and didn't seem to abate
when they crossed into the afternoon sun. For several minutes the four of them
flew west in silence. Tess kept her concentration on her magic, unwilling to
risk any of them falling off their boards.

"Should we be afraid that someone will spot us?"
Rox said, her gaze on the ground far below.

The clouds had begun to thin so it was a valid concern. Iris
shook her head and motioned to the boards. In response to her magic a stream of
white smoke began to issue behind them.

"What is . . ." Tess began to ask, and then
realized what it was. She'd looked into the sky many times and seen the
distinct white trail behind a plane.

"How many times is it a flyer?" she asked.

"Frequently," Iris said. "But not always.
They added this feature to the boards so the aurens would think that flyers
were airplanes. The more expensive ones now have invisi-shield spells."

"Invisi-what?" Tess asked. The conversation
appeared to be alleviating Iris's tension, so she kept her talking.

"It's when a group of light mages bend the light around
an object," Iris replied.

"It's not perfect, though," Derek said. "Up
close you can see a sort of reflection, like a mirage. Most of the time the spell
is only used to disguise fixed locations or objects that are really small, such
as a board and the flyer on it."

"What about planes?" Tess asked. "Won't they
see us if we get too close?" She had an image of a plane bursting through
a cloud and splattering the four of them across its windshield. She shuddered
at the thought.

"I'm re-routing the nearest jets away from us.
'Expected turbulence' is always a good excuse."

Tess began to laugh despite her tension. How many aspects of
the mage world had existed right in front of her? How many had she witnessed
without realizing it? She glanced behind at the trail of white smoke, and
wondered how much she had missed simply because she had not cared to look.

She listened to the breeze flowing past her head, and looked
at the cottony clouds. Between them the mountains of Colorado were visible far
below. For some reason her mind was drawn back to summer school, which she
would have been finishing about now. The contrast to what her summer should
have been like was laughable.

But her humor evaporated as the sun began to set, and her
mind turned to what lay before her. She and her friends were flying toward rock
trolls, killers, and the unknown. For the first time since she had chosen to go
with Hawk she questioned the decision. Summer school may have been
mind-numbingly dull . . . but it hadn't threatened her life.

Chapter 32: The Harbingers

Iris's expression was serene as she dipped her board toward
the earth, and Tess wondered how she'd overcome her fear. The tension Tess felt
certainly didn't seem to affect her roommate. Then again, it was the first time
Iris or Rox had been able to fly, so the sentiment was understandable.

Under any other circumstances she would have been overjoyed
to once again feel the board under her feet. Flying with it was even easier
than flying on her own, and the sensation of carving through the clouds was
indescribable. But Tess couldn't seem to find its inherent joy, and flew them
straight toward where Iris indicated.

About halfway there Derek seemed to decide there was no
turning back, and he curved his board closer to Tess.

"Have you ever fought with magic before?" he asked
in an undertone.

She considered the time the Harbingers had come for her, but
shook her head. "Hawk trained me some, but not exactly. You?"

"Twice," he replied. "Both were before I
started at Tryton’s."

"They were bullies," Iris called from a few feet
away. "And they wouldn't leave me alone."

Derek waved her comments aside. "This isn't going to be
a childhood squabble."

"No," Tess said, her voice tight with the worry.
"From what we know this group does not hesitate to inflict harm."

"So we're going to be fighting for our lives?" Rox
asked.

"I hope not," Tess said, but her tone made it
sound like, probably.

"Then we shouldn't hesitate either," Derek said,
his tone resolute. "We should be ready to fight, and use whatever we have
to survive."

Am I ready to kill someone? The thought sent a shiver
down Tess's spine. Unwilling to consider it, she changed the subject. "How
close are the Harbingers to the village?"

"Almost there," Iris said with a frown. "But
I don't think the trolls know the Harbingers are coming."

"Can you warn them?" Rox asked.

Iris considered the question as the wind pulled at her hair.
"I think so, but it would come with a price," she said. "The
other techno mag would detect me, and once he knows I am in his system he will
start taking measures against me."

Tess weighed the choice. Instinctually she was reluctant to
give up the edge that Iris had provided. But if the rock trolls were ambushed
before they were prepared, the sword might be gone before Tess and her friends
even arrived.

"Do it," she said. "I don't see that we have
a choice."

Iris sighed and focused her gaze. "Let's wake 'em
up," she said under breath.

Ten miles ahead a piercing whistle began to sound. In
moments it built into a shrieking howl that reverberated throughout the region.
It echoed off the rocky terrain of southern Utah with a grating harshness.
Seconds later Tess was forced to clamp her hands over her ears.

"What did you do?” Rox yelled.

Iris seemed oblivious to the screech. "I directed every
signal in the area to their doorstep. Forced together like that, they vibrate
the air and emit a high frequency sound."

"I think that's enough, Iris!" Tess shouted.
"We don't want to kill their hearing."

"Oh . . . right," Iris said, and the sound died.
"Now how long do you think—wow,
that was fast. They are piling out of their tower now." Her eyes were
glazed as she muttered under her breath.

"They are arming themselves. It looks like . . . war
shields and weapons. Why don't they use more magic? Oh, never mind, the women
seem to be gathering the wind—Grayson, I can't talk right now. Yes, I will be
on later, now go away before I wipe out your system—okay, they have formed into
a ball behind their shields."

She paused, and then said to herself. "I like this
auren satellite. It can do pretty well when configured properly—although I think the
security agency is going nuts trying to figure out who took control of it . .
." She laughed to herself.

"Iris," Tess said loudly, "let me know if
they are attacked."

Iris jerked her head and her features became focused.
"I will. We are five minutes out now, so prepare yourselves. Tess, you
should probably put on your gauntlets."

Tess jerked, and then nodded. She looked at her arms and
watched the fire blossom into sight. Curling and coiling into shimmering
bracers, they pulsed with suppressed energy. She felt a rush of gratitude for
everything that she'd learned from Hawk.

Over the next few minutes she packed as much power as she
could into them, until they roiled and pressed against their limits. When she
was satisfied with her work, she sealed the spell so it wouldn't blow up in her
face.

The ground sped by in a blur of reddish rock. Towers and
arches of stone rose into the twilight sky, radiating the afternoon heat from
their craggy surfaces. A moment later the fading sun reflected off a rock
formation in the distance. As one unit, Tess banked the four boards through a
massive arch of stone.

A mile ahead was an enormous, free-standing plateau. Rising
from the ground like a squat stool, its walls were craggy and sharp. Its top
was a flat shelf of barren stone. At Iris's direction Tess turned them toward
it, and a moment later lowered them into an almost invisible crack in the
ground. In seconds the surface disappeared as they dropped into the tight
crevasse.

Tess's desire to rush was tempered as the walls closed in.
In single file the others slowed as well. Together they glided between the
narrowing rock walls. Just as Tess began to feel claustrophobic, they plunged
into darkness as the crack became a cave. A moment later the walls widened.

Bursting into the open, Tess came to a halt at the edge of a
large, hidden grotto. Oblong and rough, the walls of the pit towered above
them. Then she realized that the grotto was not a cave, it was a hole. Hollowed
out in a giant column, it lay at the center of the plateau she'd seen from the
outside.

She cast her eyes upward, expecting to see the fading light
and the sky. Instead, the few stars appeared fuzzy, as if she were looking
through a thin cloth. The top of the shelf was evidently an illusion,
preventing anyone spotting the troll village from above.

Pinpoints of light illuminated the massive hole, and
revealed a tower of rock on one end. Windows and terraces had been carved into
the citadel. Rather than inviting, the living space had been designed with
defense in mind, giving the impression of forbidding reserve. A wall of
overlapping shields stood in front of it, guarding the main entrance to the
tower.

Tess dropped them to the deck and slowed, her eyes roving
the bowl as she sought for attackers. Her skin prickled when she didn't see
any. The uneven rock was devoid of movement, and silent except for the
whistling wind.

"Did we beat them here?" Tess murmured.

Iris shook her head. "I doubt it, but the other mag has
been blocking me since I forced the echo."

Tess frowned, her fear heightening as she scanned every
crevasse and cave. She swallowed against the dryness in her mouth, but forced
herself to turn to the rock trolls. As they reached speaking distance she
whispered to her friends.

"Keep an eye out, I will let them know what's going
on."

She brought the four of them to a halt fifty yards from the
trolls, and for the first time registered how big they were. The shields
themselves were over six feet in height, and the figures holding them looked
closer to ten. Armed with blades and spears, the hulking forms appeared content
to wait for her to speak first.

Gathering her confidence, she called to them, "A group
called the Harbingers is seeking the Sword of Elseerian. They are on their way
here."

Nothing moved. Then a gap formed in the shields and a
towering troll stepped out to face them. "Of what do you speak?" The
wall reformed behind him. "Who are you to come and issue such a
warning?" The question was made without condescension, but rather wary concern.

"I am . . . a friend of Hawk's," Tess said, acting
on impulse as she glided forward. "He sent me to—ˮ

The black strands exploded from behind her and wrapped
around her arms, neck, and waist. Stretched taut by her forward momentum, they
yanked her from the board, which careened off to the side. Her focus shattered,
she slammed into the rocky ground only moments before her friends.

Then chaos erupted as a tidal wave of magic exploded from
the walls of the grotto.

Black-cloaked men and women detached themselves from the
shadows, their hands raised to attack. Balls of flame blossomed in the space
and reflected off strips of water hardening into icy spears. The salvo streaked
across the gap and crashed into the troll shields.

Stone golems tore themselves free of the walls and stumbled
to their feet. Pebbles and loose rocks scraped across the surface and joined
them, increasing their stature until they were even bigger than the trolls.
Then they hurled themselves into a sprint, their joints grinding as they
accelerated.

Fury surged through Tess, and she strained against the
bindings that held her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her friends doing
the same as each of them fought to break free. The strands of black energy
flared darker, and a wave of weakness swept over her.

"What's happening?" she spit the words out.

"Anti magic," Derek forced the words through
clenched teeth.

Fear blossomed in her gut as she understood, and she cast
about to find the magic's source. Layered in cloaks and hoods, nine Harbingers
stood behind them in a half-circle. Each one held enchanted ropes like they
were leashes. Pure black, the strands brought Tess to her knees.

She tried to call out for help, but the rock trolls were
being pounded by the advancing figures. Sparks exploded off their shields as
fireballs bounced away or detonated against them. The ice spears dented and
scratched the massive shields, or plunged into exposed flesh.

Then the trolls struck back.

Their wall disintegrated as they went on the offensive.
Deflecting the attacks with their shields, they struck with their weapons. A
trio with hammers slammed into a stone golem, shattering its arms and legs with
clinical precision. Another rock troll used his shield to bash into a charging
golem. Equal in stature, it was the stone golem that went down. An overhand
blow from an enormous maul snapped the golem's leg in half. The next struck its
back, and it cracked in two. By then the other trolls had reached the cloaked
men.

Leading with their shields, they deflected the desperate
attempts to stop them and bellowed a ground-shaking war cry. Cloaked men
crumpled as the massive swords cut into their ranks, tearing through them like
summer's wheat. From within the ring of battling soldiers the female trolls
attacked with wind.

Compressed air poured into the dying cloaked ones, knocking
them sprawling or into the sweeping blades. Screams of the dying accompanied
the explosions of fire, the howling wind, and the muted thud of weapons
striking flesh. As skilled as the mages obviously were, they were no match for
the mighty trolls. In minutes the surviving Harbingers were cornered and they
raised their hands in surrender.

Weakened and still on her knees, Tess expected the ones
holding her to flee, but instead they held their ground as the rock trolls
turned toward them. They reformed their line and began to advance, their
weapons pointing at the anti-mages. Tess felt a moment of intense satisfaction
at what was to come . . . and then a voice called over the battlefield.

"I wouldn't," it said.

In a swift move the rock trolls split into two formations,
now guarding their rear as well as their front. Through a gap Tess spotted a
trio of figures exiting the troll citadel. The man in the center carried a
darkened sword in his hand. The one on the left was tall and thin. His hands
twitched oddly, identifying himself as a techno mage. The third appeared
younger, and he wore black gauntlets that were wreathed in flames.

For a long moment silence replaced the din of battle, and
was only broken by the groaning of the wounded Harbingers. Then the one with
the sword reached up and pulled back his cowl. As the hood fell he raised his
head and looked straight at Tess.

"Oracle," Chancellor Ranson said. "It's a
pleasure to see you again. I must say you are weaker than I have heard."

She strained at the end of her bindings, at a loss for
words. Finally she spit at him. "The mage world put its faith in you,
Ranson. How can you turn your back on them?"

"I didn't turn my back," he sneered, the wrinkles
on his face tightening in anger. "I am redeeming them. That is what the
Harbingers are dedicated to, bringing light to the lightless—ˮ

"Through death?" Tess challenged.

"If we must," he gestured to the man at his side.
"You would have learned the right way from the beginning, if you had gone
with him."

The one with the gauntlets nodded, and withdrew his own hood.
"Hello, Tess."

"Drake!" Tess hissed. "I thought Shorn
was the one who came after me."

He bared his teeth in a snarl. "I was forced to mark
him for underestimating someone." He slid his fire gauntlet up his arm,
revealing a scar across his hand. "Just as you marked me."

"You tried to kill me!" she screamed, and
forced herself to her feet.

"You misunderstand," Drake said. "The Master
merely sought to bring you to the public eye. How long would Hawk have held you
back? How long would he have hid you from your role?"

"You could have killed my friends," Tess
shouted.

"A necessary casualty," Ranson interrupted with a
dismissive wave. "But you managed to rise to the occasion, saving them in
epic fashion. I applaud your ability, but now I'm forced to ask you to make a
choice. You can either join us . . . or die with the trolls."

Tess felt a deep foreboding at the utter confidence in Ranson’s
voice. With just a handful of his forces remaining, Ranson spoke as if he had
the upper hand. She shoved the fear from her response.

"If death stared me in the face, I wouldn't join
you."

"Oh, my dear Oracle . . . ," Ranson said, and his
smile turned malicious, "it does."

Ranson raised the dark sword in his hand, drawing all eyes
to it. Then he stepped to the stone wall of the citadel. His eyes glittering,
he placed the tip against the rock.

"Ranson!" Tess screamed, causing him to
pause. "Don't be a Master of war!"

He gave a low, chilling laugh. "My dear girl," he
said, "whatever made you think that I was the Master?"

He turned to the side and plunged the black sword into the
stone citadel. Instantly the stone shifted and widened, making room for a black
oval to shimmer into place. It expanded hungrily, absorbing the rocky surface
until it stood taller than a rock troll. Before anyone could react, Drake
caught the techno mage at his side and leapt into the sky. Ranson pulled the
sword from the wall and was only a step behind. His laughter was drowned out by
the cacophony of sounds issuing from the portal.

Then black creatures poured from the opening and flooded the
grotto.

Chapter 33: Remnant

Howling in hysterical fury, the man-sized fiends covered the
ground faster than seemed possible. The trolls reformed their ranks in time to
receive the brunt of the assault, but the entire line slid back as the fiend
mass thickened with screaming bodies. Then a larger creature exited the portal
. . . and then another.

Bearing obsidian swords that were as large as the trolls,
they plowed through their smaller counterparts, roaring their hatred. Armored
in charred bone growing from their flesh, the enormous fiends attacked the
trolls in a frenzy of rage . . .

And the trolls gave ground.

Then a high pitched snap of metal echoed throughout the
bowl, and Tess watched a rock troll tumble to the ground, his shield broken in
two. The rock trolls were quick to fill the gap, but were still being driven
back. In moments another pair died, and then three more. And still the fiends
poured from the portal.

Tess yanked at the ropes that held her, helpless to do
anything to prevent the slaughter. Her magic sparked feebly in her hands,
drained away the moment she called it forth. Screaming at her captors, her
anger shifted to desperation.

Then she heard Iris's voice in her head.

Tess, don't fight the anti-magic, control it.

Like a ray of light had pierced the darkness, Tess saw what
she was supposed to do. Gathering her magic inside of her, she pulsed a
fraction of it into the lines that held her. They shuddered, unable to bear the
increased power. Her weakness subsided as the ropes struggled to cope.

She snarled at the taste of victory and launched herself off
the ground. The Harbingers managed to stop her a dozen feet up . . . but she
could sense the panic emanating from them. Her teeth bared at the sign of
weakness from her adversary, and she gathered herself again.

Energy sparked and crackled off her arms, morphing into a
hurricane of lightning around her. She clenched every muscle in her body and
screamed as the ropes tore into clothing and flesh. Then she sent a mountain of
power into her bindings.

The strands pulsed a blinding white, their darkness
overpowered in an instant. The one attached to her arm snapped, and then the
one at her waist. One by one they broke or outright shattered. Wrenching the
last from its wielder's grasp, she whirled to face her attackers. Magnified by need,
heightened by fury, her magic exploded into her foes. Men and women cried out
and slammed into the ground. Before they could rise she turned the scraps of
anti-magic ropes on them.

At her will they wrapped around the cloaked figures, leaving
them immobile and helpless. A glance showed her friends free as well, so she
whirled to help the trolls. A blast of magic launched her into the air and toward
the battle, and from on high she unleashed her power.

Liquid flames coursed from the gauntlets she'd created,
burning the lead fiends to ash. Soaring across them, she extended the line of
fire until it spanned the gorge, pouring every bit of power from her gauntlets
into the creatures’ flanks. She turned back to find that many of the fiends
were plunging through the firestorm, heedless of the damage they sustained.
Despite their charge, Tess's attack had allowed the rock trolls to retreat toward
the grotto's entrance.

The trolls regrouped at the cave and formed an arc of
shields across the gap. Tess felt a flood of relief as she saw her friends
behind it. Thinned by Tess's firewall, the mass of fiends slammed into the
shield wall. This time the trolls didn't budge. Roaring their war cry, they
plunged their weapons into the dark flesh of the enemy.

A moment later they made a gap near the center, and a small
stone golem barreled through it. Controlled by Derek, it trampled through a
knot of the smaller fiends and rammed a larger one. The two fought for
supremacy. Then Tess spotted a flicker of silver on the ground.

She turned, and realized it was one of the Tempest boards.
Forgotten and discarded, it lay under a fiend corpse. A flicker of power
brought it soaring to her. She caught it with one hand and placed it under
feet. Then she rocketed toward the advancing fiends.

With the board helping her to stay balanced, she warped the
gravity around the larger fiends, the ones doing the damage. One by one they
sank to the ground, unable to fight the magnified gravity. She cringed as she
heard bones snap, and the subsequent bellows of pain. It reminded her of
stepping on a cockroach.

Gritting her teeth, she picked the crumpled figures up and
tossed them against the walls. Then she sought for more. Out of the corner of
her eyes she saw something spin toward her. On instinct she brought the board
up to intercept it. The board shuddered as the massive black sword plunged
through it, grazing her leg.

She sucked in her breath at the sting, and fought to keep
her altitude—but the board was tearing in half. Its magic damaged, it
disintegrated under her. She caught herself in time to avoid striking the
ground but was too close to the fiends.

Hands clawed for her legs and arms, tearing at her clothing
and skin. Pain and terror abruptly overpowered her, depriving her of the focus
necessary to destroy them. Then panic engulfed her as a hulking figure raised
its sword above her. Throwing everything into her magic, she exploded off the
ground, narrowly missing the descending blade.

She was forced to dodge as a creature leapt toward her. A
foot from her throat it collapsed, shrieking a horrendous scream. Tess didn't
wait to find out why, and sent a torrent of flame into its head. It crumpled to
the ground.

She glanced to the side and realized that it had been Iris
who had saved her. Before Tess could call a thank you her friend had already
turned her attention to another creature. Fighting for breath, Tess rose fifty
feet off the stone floor. Her heart stuttered as she witnessed the truth.

The fiends continued to pour through the portal, and had
filled the gorge to capacity. Her firewall had faded into pockets of dying
flames, and the rock trolls were barely holding their position.

Desperately she cast about for what could stop them before
her friends and the trolls were overrun. But there was nothing except the
gaping portal and the swelling horde. Dying in droves, the fiends climbed over
the corpses of their companions, forcing the rock trolls to retreat or risk the
enemy flooding over their shields.

Then Tess saw the portal shudder . . . and shrink? The
difference was barely perceptible, but it was there. A moment later it did it
again. Then Tess remembered that Derek had said the anniversary of the end of
the war wasn't until next spring. Was it possible that trying to open it now
meant it couldn't be sustained?

The black portal quivered again, and shrank even more.
Knowing it to be their only hope, Tess flew to the rock trolls—but it was too
late. Their right flank had buckled, and fiends were forcing their way through.
A scream sounded as beams of water pierced the clawing fiends, and the next
moment Tess dropped next to Rox.

Together they closed the hole with fire and water, giving
the rock trolls a chance to fill it. The instant it had re-formed Tess shouted
over the clash of arms and howling foes.

"The portal is unstable! We only need to hold for a
little longer!"

Her words spurred the trolls and her friends to greater
effort, but in Tess's heart she knew it was too late. There were too many, and
there was nothing she could do that would stop them. She fought alongside Derek
and Iris, who for the first time appeared afraid. That alone sent despair
cutting deep into her heart . . .

—A shriek of ultimate fury exploded in the gorge, causing
troll, human, and fiend alike to cringe as their teeth rattled in their skulls.
Echoing and re-echoing, it seemed to come from everywhere as the ear-crushing
challenge reverberated. In the next instant a massive shape shattered through
the illusion at the top of the gorge.

With flame coursing over its entire form, the enormous bird
filled the space with heat. Its wings were tight against its body as it dived
straight down, but it swept them wide at the last second. Several fiends were
crushed as his great talons slammed into the stone. Then the tail and wingtips
touched the ground and fire exploded in the gorge.

The blazing inferno incinerated the nearest fiends,
shredding the weaker ones and launching the stronger ones against the walls.
Violent and merciless, the raging fire whipped through the rocky bowl,
consuming the fiends with brutal efficiency. Only when the entire space was
devoid of black bodies did it begin to subside. Then it collapsed toward the
shrinking portal and blocked anything new from escaping.

Through it all Tess huddled behind the troll shields that
glowed red from the residual heat. The terror she wanted to feel was no match
for Iris's hysterical laughing. She wanted to wanted to question her sanity,
but then the fire around them dissipated.

Cautiously she rose to her feet and stared at the fearsome
bird in the center of the steaming cavern. Red and gold feathers covered its
form, still simmering with diminished fire. Its great eyes bore an intensity
that inspired one to flinch and flee, yet seemed to carry an intelligence that
was unmistakable. Then the great bird ruffled its wings and began to change
shape.

Stunned to silence, Tess watched the massive bird shrink.
Claws turned to booted feet, burnished feathers turned to a flowing cloak, and
wings turned to arms. The head and beak shrank and changed into a head of a
man. Last to go, the feather pattern on his arms faded into skin. Then the
figure turned to the gathered trolls and Tess recognized him.

"Hawk?" she burst out.

To her astonishment the rock trolls touched a knee to the
ground, and shouted in one voice.

"Reiquen, Phoenix of Light, we salute you!"

Hawk's expression was a mixture of determination, unbridled
fury, and, oddly, fatigue. He inclined his head to the rock trolls, and said,
"Kerok, it's been a long time."

"Too long," the rock troll said, rising to his
feet with the rest of his people. Tess recognized him as the one that had
greeted them before the battle started.

Hawk nodded in satisfaction, and strode over to join them.
As the rock trolls set about helping the wounded, he smiled at Tess.
"Decided to go on an excursion did we?"

Iris jumped between them, her eyes wide. "Do you have
any idea the energy discharge when you transform? It's incredible—"

Derek pulled her out of the way. "What my sister means
to say is, it's nice to finally meet you."

"And thanks for saving our skins," Rox said. She
was tightening a makeshift bandage over her arm.

Hawk gave a curt nod to each of them. "Thank you for
protecting her."

"Will that hold?" Tess asked, and gestured to the
flames surrounding the portal.

Fiends still plunged into the white-hot flames. The few that
survived to the other side didn't last long.

"It should hold them until the portal closes,"
Hawk said. Then his eyebrows pulled together.

"What?" Tess asked.

"The fiends don't look like they did last time,"
he said slowly, staring at one of the bodies.

The larger creature bore countless wounds and burns, but his
visible skin looked mottled and wrinkled. His bone armor was cracked with age.
The horns protruding from his skull had a tinge of yellow to them.

"What do you mean, last time?" Tess asked.

The diminishing sounds of the dying fiends caused them both
to look back to the portal. Instead of a torrent of black creatures, there was
now only a handful. As if a river had lost its current, the quantity of fiends
exiting the portal plummeted. Part of Tess wanted to see a victory in that, but
it struck her as odd. Rather than an ordered stop, the fiends attempting to
enter the gorge trickled to a gradual halt.

The last fiend shrieked in the flames, and when it died no
more exited the portal. Tess looked to Hawk for answers, but his gaze was fixed
on the opening.

"What's going on?" Tess asked.

"It's been ten thousand years since the fiends came
through it," he said. "But from what I was given to understand . . .
they should have multiplied."

"Could someone have ordered them to stop?" Derek
asked.

Hawk jerked his head in the negative. "The ones that
controlled them were all killed."

"So . . . why did they withdraw?" Rox asked.

"They didn't withdraw," Hawk said, and turned to
face them. "For so few to emerge suggests the opposite—that they were the only ones
left."

His expression sent a chill through Tess, as if the marrow
of her bones had frozen. Beside her, Iris shrugged.

"So they died off?"

"No, Iris," he said.

Derek let out a slow breath. "So what killed
them?"

"Not what," Hawk said. "Who."

Tess opened her mouth to respond but a movement within the
portal caused her to turn and see a figure stride into view.

Chapter 34: The Master of Flesh

Tall and shrouded in darkness, the man came to a halt at the
portal's threshold. Lit by the firelight, he turned his head slowly, surveying
the gorge. In seconds all eyes turned to face him. Hawk began to walk forward,
gathering flame in his palms.

The man strode through Hawk's fire, extinguishing it with a
black fog that roiled around him. His skin was a dull gray, contrasting sharply
with his white hair. His eyes were like pools of the blackest coal, but
reflected red in the firelight. Strange tattoos marked his bare chest and
shoulders, and extended onto one side of his face. Dressed in only breeches and
boots, he stopped five paces from the portal.

Ignoring everyone, he breathed deep of the steaming air. His
eyes closed as he did, as if he were relishing the moment. Then his gaze
snapped to Hawk.

"Reik tor goroset?"

Hawk went rigid at the words, but responded in the same
language. By his tone he seemed to answer. Then he asked his own question. The
gray man bared his teeth and barked a reply, growling a string of
unintelligible words. Hawk's response was conciliatory, but it had the opposite
effect. The figure's eyes burned with rage, and the shadow began to gather
around him.

The rock trolls shifted their shields back into position,
but Hawk was more aggressive. Tongues of flame closed the distance in a fiery
arc, but the figure raised his palms and the dark fog absorbed the fire. Then
the cloud began to expand. Hawk launched a larger ball of flame. It evaporated
in the ink cloud, snuffed out in a burst of red and black.

The shadow climbed up the walls and spread across the floor,
curling as if it were hungry. The walls of stone, bodies, and lingering fires
fell into the devouring darkness. In seconds it had began to swallow the
lights. One by one they winked out, and then it reached the trolls.

A few swung their weapons, but the fog was undeterred, and
engulfed them before moving on. Instinctively Tess gathered her magic into her
hands, but it had no effect on the blackness. It touched her arm and she
flinched away. It stuck to her like honey, and used the contact to climb up to
her shoulder. She tried to retreat but the shadow moved with her, and then in a
burst it swallowed her. In an instant she was plunged into a darkness so thick
that she could feel it on her skin.

Cold and dry, it caused her to tremble in fear as her sight
was robbed. Her eyes widened, and she blinked repeatedly. Open or closed, there
was only the Dark. Her heart in her throat, she spun in every direction, but
there was nothing to see. On instinct she reached out for her friends. Finding
Iris's shaking hand, she clasped it.

Then the whispers began.

They clawed at her eyes and ears, and stabbed into her
consciousness. Like a searing dagger they tore through her mind. She twitched
and fell to her knees, scratching her ears in a vain attempt to dislodge the
invisible hooks embedded there. She wanted to scream, to sprint toward the
light, but there was no light to guide her.

The Dark buried deeper into her skull, slicing into her
memories and using them to subvert her will. A scream echoed, loud and
piercing, and she knew that it was her. Exploiting her fear, the Dark
penetrated her mind and sought to destroy what made her human. It consumed her
sense of justice, loyalty, and duty. Then it came for her love.

The image of her parents flashed across her mind, and the
Dark tried to devour it. Tess recoiled, and her love fought back. The
whispering Dark fed on her doubt that they were not her parents, and her love
faltered. The image of her parents was shredded in an instant. On the verge of
joining the Dark, Tess remembered her mother's last embrace.

Strong and suffused with warmth, the memory refused to be
tainted by the Dark. Tess latched onto it, and poured her magic into it. The
Dark snarled, but was forced to retreat. Her memories and will returned with a
vengeance, and forced the Dark further away. Clenching her jaw, she gathered
her might and thrust the Dark from her mind.

It did not leave, but it hovered at the edge of her
consciousness, prowling for a hint of weakness. Instinctually Tess knew her
triumph was short lived. Unless she escaped the Dark, it would consume her.
Desperate, she strained her ears, trying to hear what was happening. What she
heard caused despair to fill her.

And the Dark sensed victory.

Within the gorge she heard a cacophony of sounds. Trolls and
surviving Harbingers yelled and fought the encroaching Dark. Fists punched the
ground and fingers scraped skin as they all battled for control of their own
minds.

But they were losing.

The first to succumb was marked by shuffling footsteps,
followed by a troll sword plunging into flesh. The man bellowed in pain, but
the footfalls moved on. In moments others joined him. The sickening sound of
bodies striking the ground swept the gorge, causing the Dark to assault Tess's
mind again.

She fought back and barely succeeded, but her fear was
betraying her. A shred of hope touched her when she heard some of the trolls
fighting back. She sensed their valiant effort to control themselves—but the Darkness was
winning. More died or joined the Dark, causing Tess's glimpse of hope to
disappear. Before despair could reclaim her, a thick voice filled the gorge.

"You are all blinded . . . and alone—but soon you
will hear the bodies of your friends and family come for you, for the Dark now
controls their flesh. You will attempt to flee . . . but will not know where to
go. You will not know until the knife enters your body if it was your brother .
. . your father . . . or your own child who has slain you . . ."

The voice snarled in rage.

"Those that are fortunate will join the Dark. You
will help it spread across the globe, until the planet itself is consumed."

His voice thickened and became louder, reverberating throughout
the chamber with the force of rolling thunder.

"I have overcome the darkest night, and leashed it
to my will!  I have returned to take my vengeance! I am the wielder of the
Dark, the master of flesh! I. AM. DUCALIK!"

Ducalik fell silent, but the gorge did not. Swords scraped
across the ground as trolls issued feral snarls. Then they lunged at their
neighbors. The few that hadn't succumbed to the Dark grunted and strained to
contain their companions, but they could not last.

The Dark pressed against Tess again, whispering that all was
lost. Never had she felt such helplessness. With desperation filling her soul,
she yelled for Hawk . . . and then heard his unsteady steps moving in her
direction. The hitch in his gait sent fear arcing through her. Hawk may have
been fighting the mental assault, but he was losing.

Her mind screamed for her to stop him, to flee, but there
was nothing she could do. For all her power she had only weeks of training, and
she knew of no way to combat such magic. Blind and helpless, she cringed,
knowing the killing blow could come at any moment—and
she would not know it until it was too late. Then she heard Iris utter a single
word.

"Please," she whispered.

Brimming with terror and agony, it pleaded for Tess to act,
to protect her. Tess's fear morphed to anger, and it gave her strength.
Gathering her will, she grabbed her friends’ trembling hands and pulled them
away. Going by memory, she dragged them further away from Hawk. The move was
not to evade, but to gain time to think. She fought to recall everything she
had learned, everything that her teachers and Hawk had taught her. Fire and
gravity seemed useless, as did water. So what could—

She froze as she realized what she must do. Taking a deep
breath she focused with all her might on her farsight. Heightened by her need, endowed
with desperation, her magic responded. The Dark faded to gray, just as Hawk had
taught her, and gave her a clear view of the gorge. Then she witnessed what was
about to happen.

Darkened trolls raised their weapons and killed each other,
their bodies hunched like wild beasts. Between them Hawk stalked, his features contorted
with his effort to stop himself. Then he raised his hands, and a glittering
knife rested in them. Tears streamed from his eyes as he plunged it into Tess's
back.

—But that had yet to occur, and Tess froze the image.
Looking past Hawk, the trolls, and the scattered remains of battle, she looked to
Ducalik. He stood where he had exited, ten feet in front of a portal that was
on the verge of closing. In that instant she saw what was necessary.

She opened her eyes and aimed on memory, but with all the
light gone she couldn't see the lines of gravity. She couldn't push him
through. Sheer desperation rippled through her as Hawk's steps became louder. What
can I do without sight? Then she remembered. Earth mages didn't always use
their sight because they felt the stone. She grabbed Derek and pulled
him close.

"Derek!" she hissed in his ear.

He didn't respond. He was trembling and mumbling. How could
she get him to focus? What would cause him to respond? She had to find a—

She grabbed his face and planted her lips on his. He jerked
at the contact, but his mouth molded to hers. His body stopped shaking as he
regained control.

"Tess?"

His voice was a coarse whisper, but she didn't have time to
respond. Hawk was just steps away. She caught his hands and pointed in the
correct direction. "Fifty yards ahead," she said, the words tumbling
from her mouth.

Hawk came to a halt beside her and she knew he was lifting
the knife.

"Knock him through the portal!" she
screamed.

Derek grunted with the effort, and an instant later Tess
heard a grinding of stone. A slab of rock lifted out of the ground and struck Ducalik
full in the face.

He bellowed in disbelief as he tumbled backward . . . and
fell through the portal. In the blink of an eye the darkness evaporated,
revealing a handful of trolls and Hawk with weapons raised to kill. Most of
them blinked and straightened, their minds returning to them. The others were
quickly restrained. Tess rose to her feet and watched the portal disintegrate.
She'd never felt such relief.

Or such fear.

Chapter 35: Hawk

Utter silence followed the closing of the portal. The
survivors collectively held their breath, waiting for anything to happen. When
nothing did there was no cheer. A handful of rock trolls bound the ones still
Darkened. Other survivors knelt beside the companions they had been forced to
slay. Tess embraced Hawk with tears in her eyes. It did not feel like a
victory.

The rock trolls didn't shed a tear, but the supreme emotion
of what had occurred was written on their faces. One after another the handful
of untouched clan members stooped to touch the lifeless bodies. Then they moved
to stand by the ones that had been forced to kill.

After several minutes Kerok separated himself from the
mourning clan. Standing on a piece of rock he uttered a phrase in his own
guttural tongue. In response every member of his clan placed a mark of blood on
their cheeks.

"What does that mean?" Iris whispered to Hawk.

"It means they are declaring war," he replied
quietly. Across the distance he gave a nod to Kerok, who bobbed his head in
response.

"Let's go," Hawk said. "They need to take
care of their dead. We can talk outside."

"What about the ones still controlled by the
Dark?" Rox asked.

Tess followed Hawk’s gaze. Four Harbingers and one rock
troll growled and snapped like wild animals. They strained against their
bindings even as more was added to hold them.

"The trolls will see to them," Hawk said.

"Will they get better?" Tess asked.

"I . . . don't know," Hawk said. "But we must
leave them. Kerok will keep me apprised."

Tess shuddered. "If they felt what I felt . . .”

"I know," Derek said. "I guess they
succumbed."

"Let's go," Hawk said, and ushered them toward the
exit.

On the way out Tess noticed that two of the air boards had
miraculously escaped unscathed. Rox and Derek grabbed them. Tess stopped on the
threshold and looked back. Half of the clan had perished in the conflict, but
the fact that they had survived spoke volumes of their skill. If asked, she
would have said that two thousand fiends had come through the portal—in the
span of minutes.

But Ducalik and the Dark had killed so many more than the
fiends. A tremor rippled through her, causing her hands to shake. She took a
deep breath and steeled herself, taking solace in the fact that—for now, they had won.

She turned and followed her friends out. Once the cave gave
way to the open-topped crevasse, Tess helped her friends fly to the surface.
Hawk simply blasted the ground with fire and launched himself up.

Tess landed on the desert floor. Still warm from the day's
heat, it did not match the temperature of the air. She drew from the stone to
warm herself and cast her gaze skyward. A half moon and thousands of stars
twinkled above, lighting the expanse of emptiness. Broken only by a massive
rock arch and great pillars of stone, the vista felt dark and somber.

Hawk landed beside her, but raised his hand to forestall her
comment. Instead he turned to Rox. "Your father is alive, Roxanne. He
should be getting back to Auroraq about now."

Rox released an explosive breath, and then bombarded Hawk
with questions. While they spoke about her father, Tess turned to Iris.

"Hey, how did you speak into my mind back there?"

"Human thoughts are signals like anything else,"
she replied. "If I know a person well enough, I can usually pick up on
stray thoughts. Skilled techno mag's can have whole conversations with each
other. I figured since you were the oracle, you might be able to hear me."

"Whatever it was, thank you," Tess said. "You
told me exactly what I needed to hear."

Iris gave a high tinkling laugh, and then stepped away to
answer a pair of distant queries. Hawk took her place.

"You have a good friend that found me," Hawk said.
"And you have him to thank for my arrival. He's safe, don't worry,"
he added. "He was just tired from getting to me. I sent him home with
Breaker."

Tess felt a wave of relief. She hadn't realized how much she
missed Stel. Then Derek rose out of the crevasse and floated toward them. He
jumped off his air board and landed beside her. Then he wrapped his arms around
her.

"You did good, Tess," he said.

She could hear the smile in his voice as she hugged him
back. "You too, Derek."  She swallowed at the memory of how close it
had come. Then she pulled away.

Hawk turned to the group. "You four should be
commended," he said solemnly. "Very few mages would have had the
strength to survive this battle." He issued a troubled sigh and swept his
hand at the large plateau that contained the troll village. "We have a
bigger problem, though."

"How can it be a bigger problem?" Derek asked. He
was tightening a bloody bandage on his arm.

Hawk raised his hand and began to tick issues off. "One,
we have been tracking the Harbingers for some time, and knew they were after
something big.

"Two," he said, raising a second finger. "We
know the Harbingers are comprised of powerful and high-ranking mages—and
aurens, meaning they might have the people to take over the Magtherian
completely."

"But we knew all that," Iris said.

"That was the problem I thought we faced,"
Hawk said.

"And now we face this . . . darkness?" Tess asked.

Hawk's brow furrowed. "The fact that the Harbingers
opened the portal today tells me they don't mean to use the Sword as a threat.
They will open it again."

"That will just release Ducalik," Rox said.
"And the Dark."

"But they won't use the Sword again until next spring,"
Derek said firmly.

"Not for a while," Hawk agreed. "Opening the
portal takes energy. They won't risk sapping more until they can ensure it will
remain open."

"How can you be so sure?" Rox demanded.

"Because I was there the last time the portal was
opened," Hawk said.

Tess blinked as the realization dawned on her. Hawk wasn't
just a phoenix, he was the phoenix, the one that had fought with
the allied races in the Second Draeken War.

"Newhawk," Tess and Derek exclaimed at the same
time.

He issued a faint smile. "I haven't been called that in
a long time."

"I used to love reading about that war," Derek
said. "I never thought we would have to relive it. But I don't remember a Ducalik
character—or his shadow."

Hawk frowned. "As for Ducalik, I have never heard of
him, but the way he spoke and the tattoos on his body give us a clue."

"What do the tattoos mean?" Iris asked.

"His speech was the common language of that period, and
his marks were barbarian in nature. Prior to The Second Draeken War, the
barbarians would mark themselves to define events. Everything from positions of
leadership, to punishments were inscribed on their bodies. The marks on Ducalik
were that of Warrior, Chief, Betrayer, and Servant. I can only assume the last
refers to Draeken himself. Otherwise he would never have been on the other side
of the portal."

"Didn't the ancient barbarians use body magic?"
Derek asked, cocking his head to the side.

"They did," Hawk said, and his eyes darkened,
"but I never saw one do that."

Tess felt a needle of fear pierce her chest. She had never
seen Hawk so worried, but the glint in his eyes was unmistakable.

"And the next time the portal is opened . . .?"
Rox asked.

"Ducalik will try again," Hawk said.

"So he is someone we need to learn about," Derek
said.

"He is someone we need to fear," Hawk corrected.

Chapter 36: The White Mage

The next week was a blur of studying, exams, and escaping to
the sky. By unspoken accord they spoke little of what had happened, and all of
them focused on their studies. Even Iris had appeared somber. Then Tess
received the note. In a brief, almost annoyed statement, it summoned her to a presenting.
An hour later she stood with Hawk and her friends outside the inscribed doors.

"We'll be here when it's done," Hawk said.

Tess nodded to him, her emotions too strong to voice. It had
been less than a week since the battle with the rock trolls, yet the memory
remained bright in Tess's mind−the smell of blood, the sounds of death,
and the image of fire. Then there was the Dark, and her fear . . .

She shivered and blinked it away before she could dwell on
it too long. They had been triumphant, and that was what mattered. Taking a
deep breath, she focused on what lay before her.

How would it be after the truth came out? How would the
other students react after her presenting? Would they shun or accept her? Or
worse, be afraid of her?

She felt a pang of sadness, and wondered how her life would
have been different if she had remained at summer school. She released a small
sigh. She knew exactly where she would be, still at a desk, miserable. Whether
she faced scorn or adoration after her identify was public, she knew she
wouldn't choose to go back to her previous life.

Her thoughts turned to her parents. Like the rest of the
billions of aurens they were blissfully unaware of what lurked on the other
side of a magical portal. Her father would be in some office right now, and her
mother would be teaching a class. They had no idea that the Dark was on the
verge of devouring the planet.

She squared her shoulders, and reminded herself that she had
a chance of saving her family. It was a chance she wouldn't have had if she'd
remained.

"I'm ready," she said.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Iris sniffed,
her attention elsewhere. "You are just a teenager with the power to
cripple nations and destroy armies. It's not like you're going to use it
for that."

Tess smiled at her roommate, grateful that they had ended up
together. She hugged the distracted girl. Iris blinked and appeared confused,
but Tess had already stepped to Derek and Rox. She embraced Rox first.

"Thanks for teaching me to surf," she whispered
into her ear. "I hope we can do it again sometime."

They separated and Rox nodded. Then Tess turned to Derek and
wrapped her arms around him. For a long moment she clung to the security of his
arms, and hoped that someday she would feel as safe as she did in that moment.

"Thanks for standing by me in the dark," she
murmured.

His arms tightened on her. "Thanks for saving our
lives," he whispered back. Then a smile crept into his voice. "Just
remember the impact of a single kiss."

She grinned and they separated. "Good luck," Derek
said, and squeezed her hand.

Her bracelet quivered, and she felt a burst of encouragement
come from Stel. He extended a small hand and squeezed her finger before molding
back into its former shape.

"Thanks, little one," she murmured.

Tess turned and looked at her friends for a long moment, and
then stepped toward the grand doors bearing the crest of Tryton's. As she
approached they opened of their own accord. She strode through with her head
held high. She resisted the urge to look back as they swung closed in her wake.
She walked to the center of the chamber and came to a halt.

Circular and high-ceilinged, the presenting hall bore the
markings of tradition and regality. The floor was a polished silver, and
reflected the deep blue of the ceiling. Directly above, a large crystal hung
from the ceiling, and was the only adornment aside from the distinct school banners.
The thirteen standards hung behind the directors and were identical in shape,
but differed in color, pattern, and insignia.

The directors sat in chairs fashioned of flowing cloth. Each
was dressed in the cloaks of their schools, their colors vibrant and unique. Probably
by design, their faces were steeped in shadow. Raised above the floor, the men
and women looked down on her from behind a smooth wall that circled the room.
Carved with swirling runes and shapes, it glowed faintly, casting a spotlight
onto Tess at the center of the room.

She'd entered the chamber between the light and sound
banners, and faced the black banner that represented the unknowable school.
Although the rest of the directors were clearly seated in a circle, a fraction
of space separated the black banner from those on either side, implying that
there was a measure of separation in the magics they performed.

One of the faceless directors finally spoke, "Have you
been informed of the procedure?"

She shook her head. "I have not."

A few nodded as if her answer was expected. Then a different
voice spoke, female this time.

"Each of us will look into your energy. If we perceive an
ability with the magic of our school, then we will light a beacon to the
crystal above. The stronger the talent, the quicker we will light the crystal. If
you bear multiple talents, all of them will be displayed inside it. Secondary
talents will not be lit."

She bobbed her head in acknowledgment. "Then I am
ready."

As one, the thirteen directors gave a single, solemn nod.
Tess felt her stomach knot within her for what seemed an endless moment. Then
fire and gravity lit their beacons at the same time. Side by side, the beams of
colored light stretched from the center of the director's banner to the crystal
in the ceiling, filling it with a vibrant purple and red.

An instant later the director of air magic lit hers, and the
water director followed suit. Teal and indigo joined the twin beacons
illuminating the room. Yellow for light and brown for earth joined the others
at almost the same moment. Sound, plant, and animal then dominoed in quick
succession. With their colors of orange, green, and dark green, the crystal had
become almost blinding with the swirling colors inside.

The silver of music lit next, followed by the gray of body
magic. Then the pink of healing beamed to the crystal. Last to go, the black
unknowable beacon reached toward the crystal. At its touch the collection of
swirling colors began to accelerate. In a burst of brilliant white light, all
the magics inside the crystal merged together. Shimmering and pulsing, thirteen
colors of light beamed onto its surface from thirteen banners . . . and joined
as one.

The rustle of cloth sounded loud in the chamber as every
school director rose to their feet. Some shifted as if they were concerned,
others appeared stunned to immobility. Then finally one of them spoke.

"It appears that all magics are within your
ability," he said, and Tess heard him swallow twice before he was able to
continue. "We welcome you to Tryton’s . . . Oracle."

She gave a short bow and left the room amid a storm of
whispers.

Chapter 37: Death of an Oracle

Tess managed to get through the next week relatively
unscathed because of Iris. An epidemic of inexplicable glitches struck the mage
net the moment Tess left her presenting. Among other things, it slowed the
spreading of Tess's identity—but even Iris couldn't stop it forever. By the
time finals came around the truth was out. On Hawk's advice Tess held nothing
back in her exams, and passed her magic courses with ease.

After the last one she hurried to her room, but stayed in
the air as much as possible. She threw her things together, hoping to avoid the
crowds that had begun to congregate wherever she went. She met her friends in
the meal hall to say goodbye, but didn't stay to eat. With her stomach in knots
she dodged through the doors and nearly knocked Shorn on his back.

"Er, sorry," Tess mumbled, and tried to step past
him.

"Tess," he said, and caught her arm.

Her gaze flew to his, but his expression was apologetic.
Stunned, she turned to face him.

"I just wanted . . . to say I was sorry," he said.
He shifted his feet and subconsciously scratched at the scar on his hand.
"Drake kept saying you would take my place on the team, and I guess I
blamed you for it."

"It's okay," Tess said to him, and she meant it.
Without the hatred twisting his features he was actually handsome.

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked away. "I
guess I'll see you next quad? Drake is already gone, and the team voted me to
be the next captain—"

"I . . . I'll think about it," she hedged, and
then stepped past him. It seemed like he wanted to say more but she didn't give
him the chance. Feigning ignorance, she gathered her bags and launched herself
into the air. She didn't stop until she reached the Southpoint Terminous.

As she approached the ground she tried to avoid eye contact
with the others in line, but it made no difference. The moment her feet touched
the path the nearby students began to whisper. Tess pretended not to notice,
but was forced to look when two sets of footsteps approached.

She felt a rush of relief as Breaker and Hawk split the
crowd and took up positions on either side of her. Neither of them appeared
armed, but their very posture seemed to deter any from approaching. Bolstered
by their presence, Tess raised her chin and met the curious or fearful gazes of
the other students and parents.

She stared them down until it was her turn to board.
Mercifully, Hawk had purchased enough tickets to fill the sphere, leaving them
alone as it prepared for takeoff. Breaker remained behind, preventing anyone
else from slipping in at the last second. Even as the door closed Tess caught a
glimpse of people jostling for a better position to see her. Then the wind
began to accelerate and the ball of glass leapt into the sky.

For a while Tess just stared at the clouds floating by.
Finally she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"What do they expect from me?" she asked.

"More than you are capable of giving," Hawk said.

The odd answer caused her to turn and face him. "What
is that supposed to mean?"

Hawk sighed. "As I have said, some want you to bring
mages out of obscurity so we can rule the aurens. Others hate the idea of
change, and would do anything to prevent you from doing so. Everyone else lies
somewhere in the middle. I would even wager there are some that would follow
you out of blind allegiance."

"And I can't please everyone . . . can I?"

"No," Hawk replied, "you can't."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

Hawk's gaze was firm. "What is right. For a long time now
mages have lived in hiding, but in harmony. We have cured most of the major
problems that still plague the aurens. Depending on what you do, we might be
able to help them—but not the way the Harbingers intend."

He sighed. "Perhaps it's time we joined our worlds so
theirs can be healed. Just know that the change will induce a great deal of
instability, causing fear and conflict on both sides. As long as you make
decisions based on what is right, you will be fine."

"How exactly will I know what is right?"

Hawk gave a wry smile. "You will know. Human nature
includes an innate ability to recognize right and wrong, but oracles seem to
have a greater portion of that skill."

"How many oracles have you known?" Tess asked. It
was the first time since the battle that she'd asked him about his identity.

He sighed and looked away. "A few," he replied.

"As a phoenix or as a man?" she asked shrewdly.

"I knew one as a firebird, and one as a man. I have
known two as a joined one. One of which is you." He inclined his head to
her. "From your ancestors—and from what I have researched—I knew of you,
and a little of what was coming."

"So you knew Siarra," she said.

"I did," he replied, and his voice was sad,
"and she was one of the bravest people this world has ever seen."

"Did she ever mention Ducalik?"

"Not that I can recall," he replied. Then his
eyebrows knit together. "But she did speak of another servant of Draeken,
a man named Zorik. I believe he almost killed her."

"How many servants did Draeken have?" Tess asked.
Her throat constricted at the idea of others.

"I don't know the answer to that question," he
said, "but I do know one thing. Individuals that are evil have a way of
attracting others to their cause—particularly when they are powerful." He
flashed a faint smile. "I hope you will recognize that the opposite is
true as well. Good beings have the same talent."

She recalled his words after the battle with Ducalik. The
same questions she had asked then resounded through her mind. The last lingered
the longest. Who was the master of flesh? Even in memory, Hawk's response
chilled her to the bone.

Someone to fear.

She fell silent, but Stel seemed to feel her anxiety. He
changed into a kitten sized cat and curled up on her lap. He purred at her and
licked her hand. Absently she stroked his back, but couldn't find the words to
comfort him.

Wrapped in her thoughts, the journey home passed quicker
than it had on her way to Tryton’s. Hawk remained by her side until they stood
in the airport near her house. As he had before, he embraced her.

"Be safe, Tess, and keep your eyes open."

"I will," she promised, and they separated.
"But you're going to watch my back, aren't you?"

A fire lit in his eyes. "You can count on it."

A knot of gratitude rose into her throat, preventing further
speech. She nodded instead, and then turned away. She looked back as she passed
security but Hawk was already gone. Feeling alone, she watched the masses
working their way through the metal detectors. Then she walked past them.

A sadness swept over her as she watched them removing their
shoes and belts. They were oblivious to the reality of their world, and they
carried on as if it didn't matter. A woman glanced her way. She saw nothing
that held her interest so she turned back to her squabbling children.

Tess wished she could warn them, tell them of what
threatened them so they could flee, or hide. She sighed, and realized there was
no place to go. If the Dark was unleashed there was no place of refuge that
could withstand it.

Unless she managed to stop it.

The burden of their lives weighed heavily on her shoulders,
and didn't lift when she caught sight of her parents. A moment later they
spotted her in turn and her mother closed the distance in a rush.

"Tess!" she said, engulfing her in a hug that
cracked her spine. Who knew her mother had such strength?

"Hi, Mom," she replied. "Thanks for picking
me up."

"What else would we do?" her father said with his
characteristic grin.

Tess forced a smile and hugged him. Wrapped in his arms, she
felt a sense of safety that almost managed to blot out her mood. When he
stepped back his gaze was curious.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Just tired from the flight," she lied. Exhaustion
was always such an easy excuse. It made her less guilty that it wasn't entirely
untrue. But the doubt in her dad's expression forced her to allow more of it to
show through.

"Honest, dad, I just need to sleep."

He didn’t look convinced, but he took her bag and led the
way to the car. Her mother took over the conversation, and launched into praise
for her grades. Apparently they had been converted to typical high school lettering
and sent out.

"Five A's and one A-," she exclaimed. "I'm so
proud of you."

Tess knew that History of Magic had been the holdout, but
was still proud of her scores. It was far above what she'd ever achieved
before.

Tess did her best to respond naturally to her parents’
queries. After what she'd been through in the previous weeks she didn't think
she could handle any more that day. They stopped for burgers and ice cream, and
together they ate and talked as they had before. Throughout the meal they peppered
her with questions about what school was like. She did her best to keep answers
simple, and as honest as possible. At least that way she had a better chance of
not getting into trouble later.

"You mentioned your roommate was odd, are you sure you don't
want a new one?"

"She's a little . . . quirky, but otherwise nice."
How many times had Iris saved her life?

"And your classes? You hardly gave any details over the
phone." Her mother's forehead creased with disapproval. "You didn't
call much by the end of the term, so I can only assume it was going well."

Guilt assailed her, but she sidestepped the question.
"They're good, and the teachers are exceptional at making the topics . . .
interesting." But how can flying not be the best thing you have ever
studied?

"Any boys catch your eye?"

That one came from her father, and despite his casual tone
she saw the potential for violence in his eyes.

"Not really," she said. Except one, but he
tried to kill me and plans on destroying the world.

His gaze was measuring, and she tried not to blink. Early in
her life she had learned not to lie to her father. He had an uncanny way of
sensing when she did. This time he must have decided to let it pass, or maybe
it was the "accidental" elbow in his side from her mother.

The conversation shifted, and soon they were on their way
home. It wasn't until Tess was back in her old room that her emotions nearly
overwhelmed her. She sank onto the bed, wishing she could tell her parents.

But how would they react? It was entirely possible that they
would forbid her from going back—especially
when they learned a classmate had nearly killed her—twice. Tess shuddered,
knowing that it was the only place she would feel normal. She shook her head
and stared at the ceiling. After a time her exhaustion got the best of her and
she fell asleep.

The next couple of days were a blur of nothingness. Tess
went to the grocery store, bought new clothes, and spent time with Amy.
Although they hadn't spoken in months, she was excited to hear about Tess's new
school. She left disappointed and confused. Throughout the visit Tess felt
isolated and alone, and wished her friends from Tryton’s would contact her. Two
days after she got home Iris did . . . in the middle of the night.

Tess awoke to a faint tinkling sound. She snapped awake and
rubbed sleep from her eyes, trying to find the source of the noise. Before she
could, Stel stretched off her hand and pulled her spectacles into her palm.
Thanking him, she donned them in a rush and answered.

"Tess, there is something you need to see . . ."

"Iris? What's going on?" she whispered. A glance her
clock revealed it to be after eleven.

"I am routing the feed to your glasses now. Stay on
with me until it's over. We need to talk."

Before Tess could respond Iris was gone. In her place a high
quality video began streaming. It lit the room with light as she watched a
handful of men sitting around a white table. Hundreds of others sat in shadow
around them. With a start she recognized it as the high council chamber. The
people's stance and posture were formal, making it clear this was being
projected across the entire mage-net.

From the angle she could see High Chancellor Anderson, and
three of the other chancellors. The last had her back to Tess, but her head was
turned to face the one speaking. As Tess looked to the speaker, her gaze passed
over High Chancellor Anderson, and his expression sent a tremor through her
heart.

His face was rigid, as if it demanded all of his strength to
control his emotions. Tiny drops of sweat touched his skin, and even through
the glasses, Tess could feel his fear and crippling worry. It was the look of a
man who had lost everything—or was about to lose everything.

Tess swallowed and turned her attention on Chancellor
Ranson. Strong and charismatic, his voice was as smooth as ever, like poisonous
silk gliding across ones arm. But his eyes glittered as they had in the troll
village.

" . . . We have lived a life of solitude for thousands
of years," Chancellor Ranson was saying, "exiling ourselves because
our war with the aurens was consuming the planet. With the advent of newer
technology and better weapons—on both sides—a repeat of that conflict will
threaten the very existence of life.

"But both sides have changed since the Great Mage War.
We have watched those without magic fall into darkness, confusion, and
pointless bloodshed. The ancient wars, the Dark Ages, and massive modern
conflicts have all led to a world where apathy, entitlement, and hate do more damage
than anything else.

"Yet we have flourished. In obscurity we have
grown closer to the light, and have all but eliminated crime and need. But in
our absence the world has become a place of murky gray. People, cities, and
nations—all lack a beacon of what mankind is meant to be.

"Perhaps we have failed," he went on, his voice
rising with passion. "Perhaps in our desire to prevent war we have only
caused it. Mages have come to know that individuals are capable of more, and
that justice can be served equitably for crimes committed. There is no reason
for us to stand idle while the citizens of Earth—of Lumineia—destroy
themselves.

"We must act!" he exclaimed. "All but former
High Chancellor Anderson have voted for this unprecedented change. Even Chancellor
Gerik has changed his stance, and now supports this decision. I admit there
were times I doubted this council's ability to make the right choice, but
something has changed!"

Ranson slammed his hand down on the table. "And this
change has been crucial to this decision!"

Tess felt dread plummet into her stomach at his words, and a
moment later her fears were confirmed.

"We have a new oracle in our midst!"

Ranson sounded almost reverent, but his expression caused
Tess's fear to mount. The council chamber erupted in rumblings as Tess realized
the truth. The attacks on her had served to bring her out of obscurity—all so her mere presence
could impact the vote taking place. Everything—even
the timing of her presenting—had
led up to this single event, so Ranson could gain control.

"And she will bring us out of hiding in the only way
possible," Ranson called, raising his voice to be heard. "She will
fulfill the ancient prophecy and unite our peoples. It is the only way for us
to end the auren bloodshed. It is the only way for us to bring light to a world
darkened by greed." His gaze settled onto Anderson with pity in his eyes.

"I only wish that our high chancellor had not acted so
foolishly. As much as it saddens me to say it . . . I accept his resignation.
With my last breath I will carry on in his place." He passed a hand over
his face as if his emotions were too much to bear. Then he took a breath and
gathered himself.

"Our first act must be to protect our fledgling oracle
so she may one day lead us," his voice oozed sincerity, yet Tess felt an
odd stillness fill her room. It seemed that across the distance, the newly
appointed high chancellor stared directly into her soul.

"We must not allow the aurens to harm her before she
can take her place," he said. His smile was of protective worry, but his
eyes bore the mark of triumph. Then High Chancellor Ranson closed his comments
with a phrase that chilled her to the bone.

"If the aurens were to kill her . . . I have no doubt
it would carry us to war."

Time slowed as all the pieces she'd witnessed came together.
The Harbingers had done everything to place Ranson as high chancellor—the position of ultimate
power. The ploys to get her in the open had succeeded. Now they intended
something entirely different.

" . . . Tess! Tess!" Iris's voice broke
through her thoughts. "Did you hear what he was saying?"

"I did," she whispered.

"I scrambled the mage net to slow them down, but the Harbinger
techno mage is ahead of me. They mean to make you a—ˮ

"A martyr," Tess said softly. "I know."

She stared through the glasses without seeing them, her mind
spinning in circles without gaining any traction. Alive, she was an
unpredictable nuisance that had coldly rejected an invitation to join them.
Dead, she would be a symbol that the Harbingers—with their highly placed
forces—could rally the mages behind.

She didn't have to be alive to unite the world.

The liquid ice of fear filled her veins. Could Ranson have
planned this entire thing? Or was it the Master? She felt a tremor start at the
top of her spine and work its way down. Then she forced the truth into words.

"My death is the reason for their war."

She stood and moved to the window. Nothing moved in the
shadows, but she knew it was only a matter of time. After what Ranson had said
they would come for her. She thought of her parents, sitting downstairs and
watching TV. How much time did she have? Days? Hours? In her gut she knew the
truth.

They were coming tonight.

The
Chronicles of Lumineia

By
Ben Hale

—The White Mage Saga—

Assassin's Blade (Short story prequel)

The Last Oracle

The Sword of Elseerian

Descent Unto Dark

Impact of the Fallen

The Forge of Light

—The Second Draeken War—

Elseerian

The Gathering

Seven Days

The List Unseen

Author Bio

Originally from Utah, Ben has grown up with a passion for
learning almost everything. Driven particularly to reading caused him to be
caught reading by flashlight under the covers at an early age. While still
young, he practiced various sports, became an Eagle Scout, and taught himself
to play the piano. This thirst for knowledge gained him excellent grades and
helped him graduate college with honors, as well as become fluent in three
languages after doing volunteer work in Brazil. After school, he started and
ran several successful businesses that gave him time to work on his numerous
writing projects. His greatest support and inspiration comes from his wonderful
wife and three beautiful children. Currently he resides in Florida while
working on his latest writing and business endeavors.

To contact the author, discover more about Lumineia, or find
out about the upcoming sequels, check out his website at Lumineia.com. You can also follow the author on
twitter @ BenHale8 or Facebook.