The ivy grasping his side glowed, as if with inner fire, then burst. Sprays of plant matter flew through the air as the professor’s hands came up, magic forming upon them.
But Aamir could see them now. Flat on his back, the man was forced to bring his hands up out of his cloak’s protective embrace to cast his magic, and Aamir reached forward, his hands like claws, and grabbed the professor’s magic before throwing it aside. Aamir raised a hand, and Derhin’s eyes snapped to the young student’s fingers, looking for the telltale sign that would reveal the magic and allow him to overcome it.
What hit him, however, was a fist.
Derhin cried out as Aamir’s hand sank into his face, smacking the man’s head back against the grass. He raised a hand, but Aamir slapped it aside, pinning it with his boot to ensure that it couldn’t form any more signs, then delivered a second blow to the professor’s face, aiming for the older man’s eyes. Derhin let out a shriek, kicking, but for all the professor’s magic, Aamir was physically stronger. Derhin let out a grunt as another blow pitched his jaw sideways to the grass, and Aamir’s hand rose again.
“That will be quite enough.”
Every head turned as the dry voice split the air, and a hush fell over the crowd as it parted for a lean figure who made his slow way over the lawn. The Head seemed larger than he had when Alex had seen him in the Manor’s memories. He stood taller, his frame still willow-thin, his delicate fingers seeming to stroke the air like they were dipping into water. But his heavy boots no longer fit well, and he walked with a limp. Thin white hair spilled from under his hood, drifting back from his form like mist at his passing.
Aamir did not rise from his position atop Derhin as the master of the school approached, but he did lower his fist, his head dipping in deference. The Head nodded in return, his gaze sweeping to Derhin.
“Avery,” he said, his voice low with disappointment.
Derhin began to struggle, and Aamir stepped away to allow the man to rise to his knees, his head bowing toward the Head.
“Sir,” he said, his voice nasal as one hand strayed to his bloodied nose. “The boy cheated. He used crass, physical blows to win, and also abused the natural and overpowering magic that you have placed into the manor itself. Surely you can see that I am the superior teacher, far better qualified to—”
The Head held up a hand, and the stammering professor grew quiet, his eyes gazing up at the old man. Alex’s eyes flicked uncertainly between them.
“You lost,” said the Head slowly. “You know better than most that what I require of my professors is not sheer magical prowess, but guile. The ability to overcome. The strength to do what is necessary.”
Derhin was shaking now, his hands balling into fists at his sides, his skin pale.
“Sir, I have demonstrated those qualities,” he said. “More than anyone, I have demonstrated them. Allow me to duel one of the other professors, if you truly wish to accept the boy as a teacher.”
“Avery,” the Head said again with a sad shake of his head. “I remember when you first came here. So bright. So clever. You had half your class under your thumb in a month. You had half the staff under it by the next. You even secured your friend a position within the faculty.”
Derhin nodded eagerly. “Alexander Lintz,” he said. “I helped him through his trials.”
So that was their connection, the reason Lintz seemed to feel indebted to Derhin. Alex’s eyes widened in understanding.
“And yet, here you kneel,” the Head went on. “And now even you must receive this final lesson: all things end, child.”
Professor Derhin, dressed in his wizard’s robes, really did look like nothing more than a child. A student who had been caught breaking the rules, and now bent his knees and his head in fear of the cane. Alex felt what was almost a flutter of sympathy for the man.
However, as he heard the Head’s words, Derhin stiffened, his eyes flashing. Blood dripped off his nose to patter upon the grass.
“All things, sir?” he said, his voice sharp with derision.
The Head said nothing. The wind stirred his thin white hair, pulling it gently back, his hands motionless at his sides.
Derhin moved in a blur. His hand spun out, his fingers splaying as he let out a cry of fury. To Alex’s surprise, he did not attack the Head, but turned his anger on Aamir. Jari went rigid with fury at Alex’s side, his hand darting up, the sign of lightning forming upon his fingers, but before the boy could do anything, the Head acted.
The whole world bent. The magic which had been rushing toward Aamir’s shocked face spun up into the sky, then seemed to implode, winking out as if it had never existed. Derhin turned his eyes on the Head, cracking his neck. His voice, when he spoke, had dropped. It sounded wet, a ripping, bloody sound, and Alex cringed inwardly at the danger it held.
“And what about you, sir?” he said. “Do you ever end?”
Red light began spilling out of Derhin like crimson fog, pooling into an angry sea of power around him as his grin turned vicious. The Head did not move, regarding the welling magic, but Jari let out a gasp.
“We need to get out of here,” he urged.
The other students had already begun to back away, the more senior grabbing their fellows by the sleeves and dragging them closer to the manor. Alex watched as Aamir looked at the growing power and began backing away too.
“What is happening?” Natalie asked, raising a hand to shield her eyes against a thrum of scarlet light that whipped around Derhin.
“Life magic,” Alex breathed.
There are two types of magic in a person, Professor Lintz had explained. One comes from your essence, and we call this magic. Life magic, on the other hand, comes from your soul itself. To tap into it, even once, causes irreparable damage to a person’s very existence.
Derhin let out a scream of pain, his hands flying to his head, his mouth falling open. A soft, bronze light began gathering around the Head in response, and where the two magics met, the air sizzled with power.
“Alex.”
Alex turned to see Jari’s frantic eyes.
“We need to go!”
Alex could not help looking back, watching in awe as Derhin unfolded from his kneeling posture, his back straightening, his feet drifting up off the ground as the dirt and stone ruptured under him. He made no gestures of his hands, but his eyes had turned a soft, glowing amber as he stared at the Head.
Dimly, Alex could hear Jari yelling, could see Natalie’s pale face.
Then, the sky vanished in a calamity of bloody light.
Chapter 40
The earth ripped itself to pieces in front of Professor Derhin, and Alex could see something manifesting—the gold and crimson form of a giant beast he could not put a name to moving through the sea of magic. Its claw-like hands savaged the dirt, the walls, the ivy. It seemed bent on destroying the manor, escaping at any cost.
Alex shouted, reaching into the void, not sure what he was searching for. His lost friends. The anguished professor. The safety of the Head’s magic. He felt each there, as if in the chaos they had blended into a single entity. He felt the angry, thrashing coils of Derhin’s panic. He felt Natalie’s fear and determination. He felt Jari and Aamir reaching for one another. And he felt an ancient power, deep as space and full of quiet sadness.
A bolt of amber cleaved through the storm, sending ripples of rusty light crackling over the clouds. Derhin’s magic grew brighter, more fearful, savaging the confines of the manor in a desperate attempt to get away. It reached for the gate with one colossal hand, and the Head’s magic flickered down in a rush.
Alex watched as the Head emerged from within his power, his hood low, his robes flapping, his hands moving in short, languid motions. With a swipe, he pulverized the great beast’s magical arm. With another, he blasted a hole in the sea of red. And with a third, he ended the confrontation.
The world came back in a rush, and Alex gasped. The blue sky, the brisk winter breeze, the students, still standing where th
ey had been moments before. Not one of them was harmed, but Alex stared in awe at where great swaths of the ivy had been torn from the wall, leaving deep, smoking gashes in the masonry. He was still staring at the damage when he heard the weeping begin.
“Please,” Professor Derhin was pleading pathetically, “please, I’m sorry. I can still be useful, you know I can be.”
Alex turned and found the professor crumpled upon the ground. His arms and legs were shaking violently, and his eyes looked dull and glassy. Blood trickled down from one cheek, but the professor made no move to wipe it from his face. He was staring up at where the Head stood over him.
The old man’s face was invisible, and he stood in a stance that was at once authoritative and relaxed. His long-fingered hands hung slack at his sides.
“Your uses are at an end, Avery,” he said.
Derhin winced away from the Head. “Please,” he breathed. “Please, don’t do this. You don’t have to do this.” Alex felt a little sick at the scene, his gut twisting with anticipation. Surely the Head wouldn’t…
The Head shook his head.
“I do.”
He turned, facing the crowd with gleaming eyes. “Renmark. Esmerelda.”
The two professors stepped forward, faces pale, but a third form accompanied them. Lintz’s heavy features shook as he planted his feet, sweat beading upon his brow.
The Head looked at him, then nodded. Alex frowned as what he could see of the Head’s mouth twisted with sorrow.
“I’ll do it,” Lintz said in a husky voice.
Derhin’s eyes widened with shock. “Alexander,” he said.
Lintz looked to Esmerelda, who gave a stiff nod, and the two of them marched forward, each seizing Derhin by an arm. The man seemed too stunned to fight back. He looked between his two captors, his expression blank and uncomprehending.
“Alexander,” he repeated. “What are you doing?”
Lintz didn’t respond. Slowly, he began to drag the once professor toward the manor.
“We did so much together,” Derhin pleaded. “We practiced together. We planned together. We were going to escape together.”
Lintz said nothing, his eyes lowered.
“Alexander!” Derhin cried, one hand finally snapping up to scrabble at the big man’s hand. “You can’t do this!”
“Hush,” Esmerelda said, her voice chiding. “Can’t you see he’s doing this for you?”
Derhin’s eyes snapped to Alex and Natalie as he was dragged past them.
“You did this,” he hissed, his heels digging in against the inexorable force of his colleagues. His face was not angry, however. It was set with resignation, and a sudden mirth bubbled out over it. His voice rose up to break into a laugh. “You helped Aamir train! But you’ll never get out of this place.”
Alex stared at the man’s back as he was hauled away, his limbs going limp, his laughter the only sound on the cold air.
“Aamir.”
Alex turned sharply at the voice. The Head stood just beside him, facing Jari and Aamir, who stood next to each other. Aamir stepped forward, and Alex thought he saw a shadow pass over Jari’s face.
“Sir,” Aamir said, kneeling as Derhin had.
With Derhin’s laughter still hanging on the air, the Head began to speak.
“You have demonstrated a great deal of courage and capability,” he said, his voice thick and soft all at once. “Are you willing to pass those qualities on to your students?”
Aamir’s head sank in assent. “I am.”
“Will you teach them to the best of your abilities, and raise them into capable credits to the magical race?”
“I will.”
“Are you ready to make sacrifices for the greater good?”
Aamir hesitated, but in the end, he nodded. Without fully comprehending why, Alex’s heart sank.
“I am.”
Derhin’s bubbling laughter cut off abruptly as the door to the manor snapped shut behind him, and the Head held out a hand.
“Then rise, Professor Nagi of Spellshadow, and come with me. There is much you must know. Much you must understand.”
Aamir reached out, taking the Head’s withered hand, and rose to his feet. He was a tall young man, but somehow the Head dwarfed him as he drew the boy to his feet, then turned and made his limping way back toward the manor.
As Aamir made to follow, Jari stepped forward.
“Be safe,” was all he whispered, reaching out to give Aamir’s shoulder a squeeze.
Aamir glanced over with a smile, then looked to Alex and Natalie.
“How’d it go?”
At Alex’s side, Natalie flashed a quick thumbs-up, and Aamir gave a short nod. The Head had paused, looking back at Aamir, who hurried to catch up. The crowd of students parted as the two made their way through it, vanishing into the manor.
Chapter 41
Aamir did not return to the dorm that night. Natalie had joined Alex and Jari there, and sat on the edge of Alex’s bed as Jari stared over at the empty, neatly made sheets and freshly fluffed pillows of Aamir’s sleeping space. Nobody quite wanted to sit there. It felt like a sacred place.
“I feel like I should be happier,” Jari said, his head low.
Natalie made a soft noise of agreement.
“I mean, he won,” Jari said, laughing humorlessly. “Did you see him punch Derhin? I swear, he’s wanted to do that for about a year now. Must have at least felt a little bit good.”
Nobody spoke.
“Where do you suppose the Head took Derhin?”
An image fluttered into Alex’s mind, of a small room with chains and a bladeless knife beside a ledger. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to rid himself of the thought.
“No clue,” he replied.
“When do you think Aamir will be back?” Natalie asked.
“In the morning, I’m sure,” Alex said.
Jari nodded, his face lightening a little.
“In the morning.”
But Aamir did not return in the morning. When the students filed into the room meant for Professor Derhin’s class, they found it empty. When fifteen minutes had passed and no professor had arrived, most of the students let themselves out, wandering back to their other projects. Alex just sat there, staring at the empty desk.
“My curse disappeared.”
Alex looked up to see that Natalie had taken Aamir’s old seat beside him.
Alex grunted. “Guess that means Derhin is gone.”
Natalie’s face darkened. “I guess so.”
Four orbs of fire blossomed into being all around her, spinning in a tight circle to orbit her hand. She sighed.
“I wonder when Aamir will be back,” she said.
Alex stared at where Jari still sat, his eyes on the door like a dog waiting for its owner to come home.
“Soon, I hope,” was all he could say.
Days passed. Jari’s grief grew to a soft, simmering sorrow. It even reached the point where Ellabell came over to him, putting an uncertain hand on his shoulder in a reassuring pat. Perhaps more alarming still, Jari only nodded in gratitude at the gesture, then looked back down at his desk.
The absence of Jari’s smiles hit Alex harder than he would have expected, harder than he liked to admit. More and more he found himself wandering to the library, attempting to distract himself with the Historica Magica. He found, however, that he couldn’t focus on the book. The words fell together in a gloomy blur, and after a time he would just shut the book and look out the window.
Nobody seemed to notice Finder’s absence. Alex figured they would have a few days yet before the Head took note of the old ghost’s disappearance, and then things were going to get interesting. His body still ached with the pains of the battle, but something told him it was only the beginning.
Natalie seemed to think much the same. She sat in her usual chair, gazing out the massive glass wall of the library.
“Did you hear what he said?” she asked, two days after the du
el.
“Mm?”
“Derhin.”
“Which part?”
Natalie was silent for a long time. “The part about how he and Lintz were supposed to escape together.”
Alex nodded. He had been churning that around in his mind ever since, the fact that even the professors craved freedom. That even they weren’t safe.
Natalie licked her lips, running her fingers through her hair. “I just. I mean.” She looked over at Alex. “I had not thought of it like that. He was so much the enemy that I hadn’t even considered that…”
“…that he might be like us?” Alex finished.
Natalie nodded, her lips twisting. “Yes.”
They stared out the window together, watching a horizon of endlessly shifting waves, whitecaps frothing the water amid swirls of rain and sleet.
“How is your research?” Natalie asked.
Alex looked down at the Historica, then shrugged.
“Grim.” How could he explain the loneliness, the powerlessness that accompanied reading over and over that your ancestors had all been murdered? That you were the last of your kind? According to the book, there was nobody left to instruct him, to guide him. There weren’t even any books they had left behind, no treasure trove of advice to follow. Of survival skills.
Natalie sighed, and Alex said nothing more.
Aamir’s absence seemed to have driven a wedge into every aspect of their life. The empty classes. The awkward silences that were meant to be filled by the young man’s dry, academic remarks. The hole where his wry smile was supposed to be burned hot in all their hearts.
The three of them continued to attend the empty class, even after their peers abandoned it for more useful pursuits. They sat in the sea of tables and empty chairs, talking, trying to fill a space that seemed determined to fill itself with absence.
Alex was thumbing through the Historica when he finally found it. Jari and Natalie were chatting, and he was watching the interaction, his finger running smoothly over the pages until one caught. He looked down, and saw something sticking out between the pages of the book. A small, withered thing, dry with age, and folded into a tiny square. It must have been pressed between the pages, lodged there all this time.