Caster's Spell (A Mage Tale Book 1) Page 29

  Wesley could see the strain Axel put himself in as he slowly raised his hands. His limbs began to quiver and his dark skin blushed.

  "C'mon, Ax, you can do it," he heard Cameron whisper from his side.

  "Please, please, please, please," Sri chanted from his other.

  Wesley was blown away as Axel completed his show. The pillars took the form of a massive stick-figure-like man, with the Earth Sorcerer at its center. He held it in position for five seconds and then, in a rush, he swung his arms across his body and the pillars crumbled to the ground, kicking up loads of dirt that clouded the scene, hiding the young teen from sight.

  Wesley gasped in fear. "Did he lose it?"

  "Just wait," Cameron said, but stood up to get a better look.

  When the dust finally cleared Axel was standing with his arms flaunted in the air, at the center of a giant "O". Then Wesley let himself see the bigger picture.

  "Axel Stone," He read the giant dirt letters. "No way."

  Sri covered her mouth and Cameron laughed. Then all three exploded up in cheer. "Yeah!!!"

  When he returned to them, he wore a smile that nearly tore his face in two. "So whatcha think?"

  "That's way too much source for a G-class," said Cameron. "You'll pass for sure."

  "Were you holding that thing up with your head?" Wesley shouted.

  "Yeah, for a sec, I thought it wasn't gonna work," Axel laughed. "Then I remembered who I was."

  "Of-course."

  "Top that one, Mouse." The muscular boy scooted past the Sorceress and back to his seat.

  "We'll see, Neanderthal," she replied with a smile.

  Then came the time for Wesley to leave. He accepted his friends' good luck wishes and headed down to the testing grounds. But Cameron called for him before he could get too far.

  "Look over there." He pointed. "Are those your parents?"

  Wesley turned to gaze across the stadium to a couple, no one sitting within four seat's distance of them. A tall dark-haired man and a blond woman, wearing shirts with his face superimposed on them.

  Wesley laughed and continued down.

  The kid who went before him ended in disaster, dropping his spell midway. Wesley shook his head to rid himself of all negative thoughts and walked out of the tunnel, out to the middle of the arena, under the watchful eyes of the vulture-like students and naysayers. But he was comfortable, knowing that he'd be out where his mother could see his resolve, where his father could see his power.

  The dry topsoil crunched beneath his feet as he stood before the judges, with his head held high. Wesley closed his eyes, feeling the sweltering warmth from the summer's high noon, and with it a cascade of light and power, like a revitalizing energy, before glancing back up to the old magi before him.

  He made his first hand sign, and as he did so, he thought of the very first times that he spoke with his friends. Cameron at the doorway, Axel under the beating sun, and Sri in the halls after curfew. Their smiles, their frowns, their loyalty even through the recent weeks. They were his true friends, people he could never outgrow, or forget.

  He pulled his hands apart and shifted into another sign. The memory of Master Rosen claimed his thoughts. From their first conversation about "out-working" his peers, to the stout man's unwavering defense against unfair punishment for crimes that had yet to be proven, he was the Warlock's greatest ally. Master Rosen was probably sitting somewhere in the crowd, having never given up on him, and never once doubted the fact that Wesley could succeed.

  A third maneuver of his hands and he thought about the promises he had made, the oaths taken: one to his parents, one to his people, and one to himself.

  With his fourth sign came the thought of his rival, his true rival. Benjamin Caster, the boy who surpassed all expectations, who did the impossible, who set the precedent for Wesley. If it wasn't for him, the Warlock might not have been as strong as he was that day. It was also true that if not for this genius, Wesley would not have been under investigation for thievery.

  Now it was his turn to show the world that he was something more than an outcast, a knuckle-dragger, a monkey, a saboteur, one of the riffraff, a dunce, a weakling, or a defenseless child. It was his time to prove that he was a real mage.

  He drew on his source and forced the incantation, without a single doubt in his mind.

  "Canis Lupus."

  The stadium fell to silence. He saw one of the old councilmen put his hand to his mouth and Dean Sinclair slowly stood from his seat.

  Wesley stood with his arms raised, like a person in prayer, on the head of a forty foot tall wolf.

  "That is a student of Reviberous," he heard Master Sinclair say, the stadium was so silent.

  Cameron said to bring your A-game; show them something that would really impress them; make them believe the truth, that you are ready for the next class, the boy thought rallying himself for another spell. He raised his hands to about eye level and snapped.

  The wolf, disintegrated into an ocean of black Chaos Butterflies, all designed to implant a single very specific emotion into the person they land on. In this case, Wesley made them push hilarity and as they landed, random people about the whole arena laughed without thought, one having set down on a judge.

  Wesley lowered himself to the ground, feeling as weak as a man who’d finished a triathlon, and just as accomplished. Although his body urged him to fall over, he reached up and punched at the sky with a loud whisper, "Yes!"

  One of the councilmen judges slapped his hands together, which gave Wesley pause. He quickly stopped his excited romping and stared at the aisle of old masters. Then the man did it again, and again after that.

  He was clapping!

  The rest of the judges joined, followed by the hordes of magi around him.

  Suddenly uncomfortable with the adoration, Wesley gave the masters a respectful bow and turned for the tunnel to exit the floor of the arena. The cheers soon became a distant ruckus as he went further into the hall.

  It was dark, much darker than he remembered it to be. A twinge of fear set in after he realized that he couldn't see his hand in front of his face, and he sped up into a very well disguised hustle.

  "Where do you plan to go, skipping like that, Dorothy?" He flinched as a strong but feminine voice sounded from seemingly everywhere. It was one that he recognized and immediately, all of the fear melted away.

  "Winter!" he almost shouted.

  The darkness faded and light returned to the tunnel.

  "That was a great spell show," said the older girl.

  "When did you get back?" asked the boy. "How are you? It's been forever."

  Winter laughed. "I came for the Final Exams."

  "So you didn't quit?"

  "No." She shook her head. "I transferred back to the Hamilton Academy. I already graduated!"

  "Really?" Wesley grinned.

  "Our finals ended last week. I'm a C-class mage now. I had nothing better to do, so I asked to come here to watch."

  "You're an upperclassman? What's it like?"

  "Pretty much the same, I guess, except we can work if we want to." The girl turned to head back up to the seats. "But classes don't start until fall, so I haven't really had the upperclassman experience yet."

  Wesley instinctively followed. "Work? Like what?"

  "You know, anything. Like teach or something."

  "You're gonna be a teacher?"

  "I didn't say that, dork." She pushed his shoulder. "Oh, sorry. Old habits."

  "Don't worry about it. For you, I'll think of them as nicknames." They rounded the first flight of stairs.

  "Wesley," Winter said, her tone much heavier than before. "I know that no apology could make up for what I did. But I'm going to try to make it right, okay."

  "Okay," said Wesley.

  "Well," the girl pointed, "I'm this way."

  "Oh, my friends are up there." Wesley waved.

  "I'll see you around, okay."

  "Okay."

  T
hen he journeyed two minutes longer before reaching his seat, during which he noticed many eyes fixed on him. It was a repeat of what happened after his duel with Ashlyn.

  Sri met him with a tight hug and squealed, "That was just!... wow! The Chaos Butterflies were beautiful and the size enhancement was master-worthy! You are so amazing."

  "Okay, number one fan, you ever gonna let him go?" Axel said before Cameron stabbed his side with an elbow.

  The Sorceress immediately released him and stepped back. She looked down, letting her jet-black hair hide her face, and rubbed at her arm.

  "I knew you had it in you." The Wind Sorcerer raised his hand for a high-five.

  Axel punched the Wesley's shoulder. "Now that's source!"

  Cameron went on, "I mean you pushed a conjure out of a conjure. I've never even heard of that."

  "Was that what you've been keepin' secret?" Axel asked. "Cuz now I understand. It was worth the wait."

  "Well..." In truth, Wesley hadn’t a plan at all. He really just got the idea while standing out before the judges. Originally, he wanted to tear apart a rock with maleza, but deciding that it wouldn’t be enough, he changed his mind at the last second.

  "What made you think to try a combination like that?" asked Cameron.

  "I had a really good conjures master," Wesley answered. "Do you think it's enough?" He stared at his most experienced friend. "Winter said that it would be."

  "Oh heck yeah, it was—what? Winter's here?"

  "Yeah. She already graduated in America," Wesley explained.

  Cameron and Axel shared a quick glance and an inconspicuous nod.

  "What was that about," Sri said, noticing their exchange.

  "She's hot," Axel said with a smile and a shrug before turning to Wesley. "Right?"

  "She's like four years older than us though," Wesley replied.

  Sri frowned for an instant, before smiling and jumping subjects.

  "What you did definitely proved that you belong here," she assured.

  "Thanks." Wesley moved for his seat. "Now it's your turn."

  "Yeah, Mouse," said Axel. "You better live up to Team Outcast standards."

  They laughed, Sri's halfheartedly. Cameron noticed the sulk that arose thereafter. "Don't worry about it. Like this dope said earlier: you're the best one here."

  She smiled and then looked to Wesley.

  "Yeah, you're way too smart to fail this," he said.

  Her smile sunk slightly before she turned to face the center of the stadium. "Look. It's that rat, Liam."

  Wesley whipped his head around to get a good view. His enemy was standing with his annoyingly confident smirk, holding his scepter high. Then he threw the staff into the air and shouted something that Wesley couldn't make out. The scepter exploded in a bright shine of light, momentarily blinding everyone. When Wesley’s eyes readjusted, the Wizard was gone.

  "A vanishing act?" he almost laughed and looked to his friends. "I'm pretty sure this magician guy, back where I live, can do something like that."

  "I don't think so," said Cameron pointing down to the field.

  Liam reappeared. Then another Liam flashed from nowhere and stood next to the first. Before Wesley knew it, there were scores of him everywhere. He was even in the aisles and the stairs, laughing and waving, his body language insufferable.

  "It's a mass illusion. That's way beyond G-class. They don't even scratch the surface on illusions with first-years." Cameron bit his thumbnail. "Well, we should have expected as much, right?"

  Wesley hesitated to answer, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

  Soon after Liam's masterful display, Sri descended to the ground floor, chanting, "I am smart, I am strong, I can do this."

  When she appeared out of the tunnel, the three boys cheered, waving their hands like maniacs, hoping that their friend would notice them. The Sorceress eventually looked up at them and smiled before she began.

  She stood up straight and pulled her hair back, tying it up in a ponytail. Then she took a square of paper from her pocket, knelt and laid it flat on the ground. Afterward, she pressed both of her tiny hands to the incantation written on it. With that, water sprouted from the spot and flooded the area to about five inches.

  Axel turned to Cameron. "Do you think she's gonna—"

  "No," the Wind Sorcerer answered quickly. "She knows that it would serve her better to use it next year, or maybe the year after that. If I were her, I'd hold onto that particular curse until the year she's up to graduate from the under-class."

  "What incantation?" asked the Warlock.

  "Mouse can do something that no one else alive can do."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah," said Cameron, "but Sri doesn't have to go all out for this test."

  The petite Sorceress stood up again and let her arms fall to her sides with a graceful fluidity. She paused for a brief instant, before starting her routine, moving about with liquid dexterity. It was a sight that Wesley always enjoyed, the smooth intricate movements used by Water Sorcerers. But he especially loved to see Sri's casting.

  Like watching the night sky on a clear day, a butterfly floating along on the breeze, or the sun setting behind an ocean, the beauty so apparent, it needn't be described, defended, or clarified.

  The flood of water collected into dozens of small liquid mounds. Then with some more pulling and swiping of her hands they took very detailed forms and froze into position.

  From his seat upon the dais, Dmitri Sinclair was beginning to lose patience for his fellow judges. They were too old—much older than he—and stuck in their ancient ways. All but one: Grand Master Povlow.

  "Such complexity," said one of the High Council members. "Certainly worthy of her name."

  "Yes, like those before her, she is undoubtedly gifted. I'd say even more-so than... well you know," Dmitri said.

  "Indeed... especially in terms of precision." Then the white bearded judge leaned forward with a squint. "Perhaps we may have use of her.”

  “She is a student,” Dmitri said, allowing no margin for argument.

  But the old council member merely smiled. “In the future, of course.”

  Another of the judges interrupted. “But who are they, exactly?"

  "You're eyes aren't what they used to be, Master Wilford," said the dean. "It's as plain as day—those are her friends."

  Erected in various different poses, were roughly two scores of ice statues, all in the form of one of three boys, very well known amongst the under-class.

  "Are those us?" Wesley ran to the rail and leaned out for a better look. He saw himself smiling, sulking, playing, reading, casting, and one, which was looking at Sri, with an emotion that he didn't recognize. Axel and Cameron had matching statues for most every one of his poses.

  "Like I said," Cameron joined him at the rail, "you should rethink the way you look at her."

  "Yeah," said Wesley. "If she could do that, she should be protecting us."

  The older boy rolled his eyes and went back to his seat.

  With restless legs and purring stomachs, the group left for lunch and were pleasantly surprised to see that their seats were vacant when they returned, in time for the Wind Sorcerer's exam. Cameron and his father convened at the bottom of the arena. The large man patted him on the back and told him something Wesley assumed were words of encouragement. Then they separated.

  Mr. Elegro raised his fist and easily tugged a humongous block of earth from the ground. Wesley tilted his head, wondering what his roommate was going to do with it.

  "He thinks he can pick that thing up with wind?" Axel said with obvious doubt. "Yeah right."

  "Something tells me that he's not planning to lift it," said Sri with eyes as wide as ever.

  Cameron reached back with an open hand. Then he closed his fist and a loud pop, like the crack of a whip, echoed throughout the stadium.

  The air thinned, such that it was momentarily harder for Wesley to breathe.

  "What's that?" he heard Axel ask
ed.

  Sri answered in an astonished whisper, "Density."

  Cameron threw his hand forward and something invisible, hard, and fast smashed through the stony block like a brittle clump of dry mud, leaving the structure as rubble.

  "Whoa!" all three seated members of Team Outcast sounded together. Then they jumped up and cheered with the rest of the crowd.

  Dmitri Sinclair looked over to the other judges and declared with a certain sense of pride, "An all new spell, he calls it Hard Wind. Truly worthy of promotion into the upper-class."

  "Yes, the boy's quite impressive," the youngest looking councilmen spoke, playing with his beard. "Let's hope, not as impressive as his mother."

  "Let us hope," the dean said after swallowing his annoyance, and then turned back to the young Sorcerer.

  "Dmitri," an ancient mage in traditional robes, addressed the dean. "It would seem that all three of them have performed magnificently, despite being acquainted with a Warlock. And he himself has shown impressive skills. Do you think that it is a coincidence?"

  "Not at all, Grandmaster Povlow."

  "My thoughts, exactly," the old man's face creased with a smile. "They made a great selection in him, did they not?"

  "Yes."

  "So these three have passed the first Exam without so much as a worried expression. How do you suppose they'd fare tomorrow?"

  The dean smiled with a grunt. "Only time can tell."

  Darkness And Light

  Well beyond curfew, long after the students should have fallen asleep, two Sorcerer's held a dimly lit meeting behind the closed door of a vacant room.

  With a sigh, the older of the two began, "It sucks that we can only do one thing at a time. But the sooner we solve our first case, the sooner we can move on to the identity of the true thief. And we're close to solving it entirely. It's time we prepare to present our findings to Master Sinclair, but if we don't sound on the level, he won't take us seriously."

  "Okay," Axel replied. "Let's keep it in plain English this time, brain-boy."

  "Sorry 'bout that," Cameron said in a hushed laugh. "So we have Zeke, Winter, and Dorian as suspects for the actual attack. But they wouldn't have been able to pull it off, if not for the master pullin' the strings. Whoever brought them together, riled them up, and created the perfect conditions for them to get away with the crime, is more responsible than any of the three individually. The fact that someone like that is walking around the halls scares me more than any bully."