Caster's Spell (A Mage Tale Book 1) Read online

  Axel nodded. "You should start off by saying that to Sinclair. It'll force him to pay attention."

  "Yeah." Cameron wrote in his notebook. "But that's pretty much where we'll have to stop."

  "Why?"

  "We have no idea and no way of finding out who that master is." The Wind Sorcerer threw his head back and groaned.

  "Don't give up yet. We can still try."

  "Yeah, I guess."

  "Think about it; who hates Wesley the most?"

  "Most of 'em look at him funny."

  "Think man, who?" Axel said with a hard stare.

  The E-class mage rubbed at a nonexistent beard. "Master Boscawan clearly doesn't want him here."

  "There we go. Write that down," the Earth Sorcerer said, pointing with too much enthusiasm. "Who else?"

  "He was always complaining about his Wiccanry master."

  "You mean that reject Oompa Loompa, Wagner?" Axel slapped his knee. "Come to think of it, Wes used to talk about how that guy tried to fail him every day."

  "Yeah, he's definitely on the 'maybe' list." Cameron jotted it down. "Who else?"

  "What about Conley?"

  "You think?" Cameron squinted.

  "I don't know, man. He's cold, ya know, like he'd kill anyone with that straight face. I mean, how can anyone tell if he really hates the guy?"

  "I guess you're right. Might as well cover all bases." He wrote down the name. Then he sucked his teeth and tapped his head with the pen. "This would be easier if we talked to Winter. Maybe we can get her to come clean and tell who the master is."

  "If she doesn't want to, we can always force her," said Axel, slamming fist to palm, with a confident smile.

  Not a second after his statement, the room was flooded with blackness, the sudden drop of light leaving both Sorcerers stiff with fear.

  "'Force'?" they heard a mocking laugh from no distinct direction. "You couldn't force me to do anything. Don't be so full of yourself, kid."

  The shadows began to peel away, light returning to the room as they pulled down to the floor. Then the darkness collected into a puddle on the carpet, at the side of the two boys.

  "What's that?" Axel looked down at the pool of shadows with the urge to run from it.

  "A shadow hole," his more experienced cousin answered just before the girl with remarkably dark eyes ascended through the puddle. "That's really advanced, Winter."

  "Thank you," said the Sorceress. "And if you wanted my help, all you had to do was ask. It would have made it easier on me."

  Cameron asked her to explain with the tilt of his head and drop of a brow.

  "I had to talk to sentinels to see who was manning the investigation. Sure as hell didn't think it was you two, but crazier things happen, right?" She turned to the taller boy. "Got any proof?"

  "Yes," Cameron said quickly before Axel could answer, "but what did you mean about ‘manning the investigation’? Are you saying that there’s no official one?"

  "None that I’ve heard of," answered the young woman.

  "That was a serious offense. The Secret Police should be involved."

  "They have bigger fish to fry and the school couldn’t openly mount an investigation, without certain people catching wind of it. So they let you two go about your business, hoping you’d find an answer."

  Axel was angered by the lack of justice and raised his voice. "Now that just doesn’t make any sence—"

  "Focus," Winter commanded. "Proof?"

  "Uhh, yeah," said Axel pointing at some notebooks on the bed in which no one slept. "We logged everything from a source-sayer's recognition of Zeke, to a sentinel's description of Dorian."

  "Good. Then let's go." Winter turned for the door.

  "Wait," said both boys before Cameron stepped out in front. "We can't go now."

  "Yeah," Axel agreed. "We'll be breakin' the rules if we go now."

  "There's no time to mess around." The Sorceress left the room and continued in a harsh whisper. "Now that I've graduated, I have the authority to walk the halls at any time. Now come with me."

  The boys paused and exchanged looks of terrified excitement. Then they rushed after the older girl in a silent stupor, doing their best not to wake the Warlock.

  "So what's the plan?" asked Axel once they exited the western dormitory.

  "The dean," said Cameron. Then he looked to Winter. "Right?"

  "That's what I was thinking," she answered as they rushed into the Lockhart building. Although there were torches, the halls were especially dim on this moonless night.

  The three elementals sneaked from hall to hall, from floor to floor, until they finally came to the large dark doors of Master Sinclair's office. The youngest of them reached up to knock, but Cameron took him by the wrist.

  "Wait." He whispered and pointed at what was beyond the door. "Something's going on in there." Then he turned to Winter. "Can we get a closer look?"

  "We can get under the door, but if we get any closer, they'll catch us."

  "Okay, just do what you can. This might be important."

  Winter nodded.

  "Whoa, whoa, what?" Axel flailed his hands. "How are you gonna get us under a door?"

  "By showing you why I'm superior, even to Cameron Elegro," the girl said, raising her arms. Then she took the underclassmen by the shoulders. "Try not to freak out."

  They sank into the shadows at their feet, and under Winter's guidance, the three slipped into the crack of space between the door and the ground beneath it. They watched, in silence, as feet shifted about the room and unfamiliar voices spoke with those they recognized.

  "Hm?"

  "What is it, Master Rosen?" it was Dean Sinclair.

  "Nothing we need to fear," the stout man said, fighting back a laugh.

  "...Nevertheless, we are convinced that the thief was indeed of G-class level, but was someone that could perform incantations at a much higher level."

  "Thank you, marshal," said Dean Sinclair to the unrecognizable voice.

  "Then the case is clear," they heard Master Boscawan. "It must be the Warlock. If nothing else, his exam today has proven just that."

  Then Master Tesla's voice regrettably added, "He does seem to fit the bill perfectly."

  "I'm neither corroborating nor defendin' his side, but let's face it—the kid's not all that bright," Master Conley's coarse voice sliced from the right. "It would take 'em months, if not more, of preparation and we would have noticed somethin’ was up. Trust me, I've had to deal him all yea'."

  "Simply put," Master Rosen said, "while Wesley does have the power, he's lacking the technical skill required."

  "Well," Master Tesla said slowly. "As much as I'd hate to say it, in my experience, our young Mr. Savage has always shown an ability to go beyond what we think he can do."

  Axel felt a frightening chill shoot up his spine.

  "Winter? Was that you?" he said as quietly as possible.

  "Sorry," she returned, equally as quiet, before they went back to listening.

  The masters argued back and forth over whether or not Wesley was capable of such a feat. In truth Axel never knew it'd be that difficult. After all, they were just in some old glass case right?

  "Marshal, deputy," Sinclair raised his voice over the rest. "What do you think?"

  "Since all of our source-sayers are on assignment, we've no absolute proof against your Warlock," said another unidentifiable voice. "We'll need to continue our investigation. Given a few days, we'll know the identity of the perp."

  "Okay. Then all personal feelings aside, the fact of the matter is that the boy does possess the required amount of source to, theoretically, activate the incantations," said Master Sinclair, as he regained control over the room. "Altogether, however, that isn't enough to place judgment at this moment." He stood up and walked closer to the door. "But we should hear the suspect’s official testimony. So..."

  A light flashed in the room that almost stripped away Winter's shadow.

  "Do you have an
ything to say," Master Sinclair continued, "Wesley."

  The three Sorcerers under the door stared and listened speechlessly.

  "I," began the Warlock with a dry throat. "I have to admit—"

  "Aha! I knew it," said Master Boscawan.

  "I don't believe that he was finished speaking, Abigail," Master Rosen spoke sternly. "Go on, Wes."

  "I have to admit that I've known about the relics since the beginning of school," said the boy on trial.

  "How?" asked the dean.

  "I don't know—a bunch of people talk, I guess." Wesley paused. "I know that it was wrong, but I continued to snoop, even after everyone told me to leave it alone."

  "What exactly are ya sayin', boy?" asked the sharp-faced Conley.

  "I-I wanted to know more about Benjamin Caster."

  Axel felt the chill again, but decided not to address it.

  "Benjamin Caster?" the room repeated in a succession of whispers.

  "I didn't know he was a bad guy then. It’s just that he—I wanted something to aim for. Everyone I knew was comparing themselves to someone else," Wesley went on. "He was the most powerful person to come out of this school. He did things that everyone said he'd never be able to do."

  Wesley must have glanced at the former judge, because at the end of his sentence the man scoffed.

  "I," Wesley paused, "I was supposed to do the same thing."

  "So you wanted to be like Benjamin?" asked an old ragged voice that was otherwise silent throughout the conversation.

  "Not in that way, Master Scheifer," Master Rosen affirmed. "He only wanted to be as skilled."

  Dean Sinclair giggled. "Really?"

  "Ugh... ye-yes, sir," answered the Warlock.

  "So abou' the Orb?" led Master Conley.

  "I stopped by the relic case every day and looked at it as a reminder. But I didn't on the night it was taken. That day, I had a late appointment with you and used up almost all of my source. I'm really kinda surprised that I made it back to my dorm."

  The dean's voice became more distant. "Is this true, Judge?"

  "We did have a late appointment, yeah. And the boy seemed tired when he left. But as for his actual source levels, I wouldn't know."

  "Yes, of-course." Then Master Sinclair's voice returned to the direction of the door. "Do you have anything else you'd like to say?"

  "Nothing, other than, I didn't take the Orb of Genesis. That thing scares me," Wesley admitted. "Dark magic." He paused. "Something tells me it's forbidden for a scary reason."

  The room was silent for a few seconds thereafter. Then one of the masters, wearing sleek high-heels neared the door. "Certainly a compelling story, but I'm sorry Mr. Savage, how do we know that your friend, Cameron Elegro, hasn't coached you to say these things?"

  Wesley was silent.

  "The truth is, we can't trust anything he has to say... outside of the chair."

  Master Rosen loudly went to object, "Penelope Tesla—"

  "No!" Winter exploded out of the shadow, leaving Axel and Cameron falling into the room on their hands and knees with a thud. Winter pointed a finger at the blond beauty. "How dare you!"

  Master Tesla's eyes widened. "Winter? What are you doing here?"

  "Something I should have done a long time ago, master," the Sorceress of shadows said and turned her attention to the dean. "I was one of the conspirators involved in Wesley's abuse."

  "What is the meaning of this?" blustered Master Boscawan.

  Cameron rushed to his feet and ran over his notebooks containing all of his findings.

  "Me and Axel have been doing some investigating, sir." He held them to Master Sinclair. "We've learned the names of almost everyone involved and their methods."

  "And I'll corroborate everything in there," Winter said. "Even the one who created the storm."

  "That's enough!" screamed Master Tesla.

  She drew her scepter!

  The room became a ruckus of commands for an instant as confused masters tried to bring the situation back under control.

  Winter’s next words were calm and deliberate. "Your shadow, Penelope."

  The Witch inhaled with high eyebrows and tense shoulders, as she looked down to see her shadow bent into a complex, twisted, circular mark.

  "The chaire de vérité," said one of the old masters in a whisper.

  "Please," Tesla managed before a heavy disfigured rack of light ensnared and pinned her. She was forced down to her knees, her back hunched, her head pulled down, and her arms, yanked up behind her.

  "'Please'? You taught me better than to show mercy," said Winter to the prostrated instructor. "And besides, it's against the Caster way. That is why you chose me, right?"

  Master Scheifer raised his tired gray brows. "Winter, what is the meaning of—"

  "Yes," Master Tesla answered uncontrollably.

  "Tell them." Winter came closer to Wesley's teacher. "Did you organize the attack on that boy?"

  She pointed to the Warlock.

  Master Tesla shook as she tried to keep her mouth from opening, before her voice defied her. "Yes."

  "What?" Wesley almost fell.

  "Then it is just as we suspected." Dean Sinclair turned to Master Rosen. "A master at this school was involved."

  Master Boscawan looked down at the bowing Witch and scowled. "What have you done to yourself, girl?"

  "That... That savage doesn't belong here!" screamed Tesla, her beauty seeming to have faded by the second.

  Sinclair tapped his scepter to the ground and the screaming woman's lips were bound shut.

  Master Rosen shook his head and sighed in a disappointed frown. "Well, we obviously have a sizable problem to deal with as is. We'd do well to take a recess from Wesley's trial, at least until the end of the Exams. Wouldn't you agree, Dmitri?"

  "Yes," said the dean. "For the time being, you will be assumed innocent, Wesley." Then he turned to Axel and Cameron. "Thank you, boys. Who would have thought that two underclassmen could have uncovered such a conspiracy?"

  "Obviously you," Axel said under his breath, before being nudged by his cousin.

  Sinclair went on, "After passing your exams, you will receive an extra award. And Winter," He turned to the mistress of darkness, "I understand that you have recently graduated to C-class, and it seems that we are in need of a G-class source studies master. I'd be honored if you'd teach under me."

  "Forgive me, master," said the girl. Her eyebrows pulled up and together, "but I'm not ready to come back just yet. What we've done..."

  "I understand. But know that there will always be a place for you here, when you're ready," Master Sinclair said, before addressing all of the youngsters. "I'd appreciate it, if the happenings within this office don't leave these walls until after the Final Exams. It may affect the students negatively. Can you do this for me?"

  "Yes master," they replied without thought.

  "Now, enjoy a good night's rest. Tomorrow, you will wake revitalized and prepared for your next test."

  Master Sinclair tapped his scepter again.

  Wesley sat up in his bed to see that the sun had already risen over the horizon and that several hours had gone by. Well, it's time to make them proud, he thought with but one goal in mind.

  The Final Exams II

  "I know what you did," said Cameron, standing at the center of the arena, stern-faced and glaring at the boy before him. Wesley watched intensely as his friend's duel began, the first of the day.

  He had to stand at the rail because this day was different from the one before, in that the crowd had grown by the hundreds, making the first Exam seem no more exciting than a junior high football game by comparison. Wesley was squished between Sri, which wasn't so bad, and a giant human-shaped rock, Axel. Still the attention this duel demanded fogged his sense of discomfort.

  He watched in silent awe, as the genius faced-off against a friend.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," his roommate's opponent called through the whistling
breeze.

  "You're about as good at lying as you are spell casting, Zeke." Cameron looked down and bit his lip with a reluctant grimace. Then the dust swirled at his feet. "Lousy."

  "Duel!" the arbitrator's voice echoed between them.

  "Cam," said Zeke, his hand shaking with anticipation. "No matter how hard you make your little breeze blow, you can't stop lightning."

  The Wind Sorcerer giggled. "You were always kinda dumb."

  The other E-class mage screamed and raised his hand to the Warlock's friend. Electrical discharge sprang forth from every corner of his body, before arcing to his open palm. Wesley flinched, squeezing his eyes closed, as the bolt of lightning shot.

  When he pulled himself back to the fight, just a second later, Cameron was hidden in a cloud of stirred up, dry topsoil. His voice penetrated through the light-stealing dust, "You can't hit what you can't see, Zeke. Your sparks can't compare to me."

  The wind outside of the cloud swirled throughout the floor of the arena.

  "You're outclassed and outmatched. I'm better than you!" Cameron added.

  A gust quickly stabbed from the heart of the cloud and swept Zeke off his feet. It blew him clear across the arena, slamming him into the wall below Wesley. His body spread out against the stone as the wind continued to press.

  Cameron walked out of the dispersing smoke-screen, with a determined swagger. As he neared, the speed of the wind increased, Zeke's face wrinkling from the pressure. He was clearly in pain, a pain that made Wesley shiver to see.

  Then Cameron called to the other E-class, "Admit what you've done!"

  "I don't know what you're—" Zeke began before Cameron's Hard Wind smashed into the wall all around him, shaking the spectators in their seats.

  "Don't lie!"

  "Holy crap!" screamed the Sorcerer of lightning. "What are you, craz—"