Caster's Spell (A Mage Tale Book 1) Page 34
"Did you say 'Killer-B'?"
"Winter?" Sri looked crossed between apologizing and or attacking.
"Wes, did you say that you met someone named Killer-B?" repeated the upper-class Sorceress.
"Yeah, is it—"
"Don't be stupid," she said and smiled. "I'll check it out, if it'll make you feel better. Just stay here and have fun, you dumb kids."
She sunk into a shadow and vanished.
Cameron chuckled. "Even when she's tryin' to be nice she's mean."
The others shared in his laugh. Then Axel said, "See? Nothin' to worry about. Now follow me." He stood up and pulled Wesley along with him. "I heard Emily wants to talk to you; said some jank about her uncle."
As usual, Wesley did what he was told and hadn't a reason to object. He was with friends and speaking with the one girl that he had fantasized about, sometimes with drastic results, for the better part of a year. There was no real reason for him to feel nervous. He met all promises and passed all tests, social or otherwise.
He was happy. But somewhere, in the back of Wesley's mind, he felt a slight uneasiness like a candle in an ocean of black, barely noticeable but definitely there.
Later that night as he and his friends prepared to port back to Reviberous, Wesley couldn’t keep himself from giving voice to his troubles.
"What happens now?" he questioned.
"What do you mean?" asked Sri.
"With Warlocks, with everyone. What happens? What’s the difference?"
"I don’t think I follow," said Axel. "Everyone loves you now. You saved the school."
"Sure I did, but the rest of my people had nothing to do with it. So what happens? I mean they cheered and clapped for me and stuff, but still no one sat next to my parents at the promotion ceremony."
"We can’t expect everything to change overnight," Cameron stated. "People can’t handle it."
"So what’s the point? Nothing will ever change, will it?"
"It will… because we’ll change it," replied the Wind Sorcerer. "Together."
"How are we gonna do that? We’re just kids."
"No, we’re magi. And we’ll think of something—whatever it takes—we’ll think of something," he looked around to the three younger students, "and we’ll bring everyone to understand how they should view each other. We four will change the world. What do ya say?"
Cameron reached his hand out between them and held his arm straight. Axel slapped his hand onto his cousin's, with an overzealous, "I'm with ya."
"Me too," Sri said and put her little palm over theirs. Then the three looked to the Warlock who had suddenly found himself feeling more sure than ever about what the future held in store.
He placed his hand on top. "Let's do it.
Epilogue
As usual, the senior instructor and most experienced source-sayer on campus, Master Rosen was charged with the task of clearing the halls late after curfew. It was largely a symbolic gesture since many of the students had "snuck" out to defend their school's honor in the annual games and all of the others had long since retired to their dormitories.
He walked through corridor after corridor of the western wing without incident and he didn't expect anything more. In all of his years as a master at Reviberous, he had never run into anything out of the ordinary. Indeed the process was a monotonous similarity.
Nothing but marble, statues, plants, and torches.
Boring.
Finally reaching the cobblestone path to the western dormitory, Master Rosen turned to head back to his office, sensing that the sentinels had already taken their posts and that he was otherwise alone in the halls of campus.
After traversing halfway across one of Lockhart’s longest corridors, he briefly stopped at the case of forbidden relics. So many questions, he pondered as he stared at the golden marble, which was again safely on its purple pillow and for his efforts, the master yielded very few answers. Having personally placed a number of barrier curses on the case this time, he was certain that it’d be impossible for anyone short of the grandmaster to break in without notice. Yet even still, the site of the Orb left him feeling insecure. Unsafe.
With a shake of his head and a low chuckle he silently reprimanded himself for venturing too far into superstition.
Turning from the case, he recalled his most important conversation of the evening, sure that the advice that he had given to Mr. and Mrs. Savage was sound and responsible. Nevertheless, a small voice in the back of his mind beckoned that they’d reconsider.
Master Rosen chewed his lip, having crossed the rest of the corridor without notice, reciting a conversation that he desperately needed to share with Wesley himself. He knew that Wesley needed to be told the truth. That lives would depend on it. But most of all, he feared that if left in the dark, Wesley might defect.
That he might one day have two renegade favored students.
Reaching the point just before drawing blood, Master Rosen ceased to chew his lip, shocked to realize how nervous he had become over the course of a few short minutes. Again, he shook his head and laughed at his own horrible imagination, before turning one of the last corners to get to his office.
The hall was silent, as all the others before it, and he was sure the ones to follow would be as well. It was one of the first times in his adult life that he had ever been so completely mistaken.
Master Rosen was close, just half the hall's distance from his office, when the dreadful normalcy became anything but.
"What's this?" said the Wizard with playful curiosity. The hallway, intersecting the one in which he was walking, was utterly dark. "Some kind of prank?"
There was a powerful blanket of source stretching from one end of the hall to the other, though its signature was being masked somehow. The source wasn’t strong enough to rally anything but curiosity from the senior instructor, but the absent source signature boggled his mind well beyond simple intrigue.
He tried to peer through the inky shadows to see just how far the darkness stretched, but in this he failed. It seemed to go on forever. Then he noticed a drop in light in the corridor in which he was standing. He looked to his sides to see that darkness was approaching from both ends of the hall. One by one the torches disappeared from sight.
Before he was completely consumed in darkness, and surprised by his own elation, he remarked, "Finally, something interesting."
Master Rosen gripped his scepter. "Ignis."
A flickering flame burst from the tip of the staff, casting dancing shadows and lighting an eight foot radius in a redish-gold glow. "Now let's see..."
Suddenly, before he could take any investigative actions, the area returned to blackness. The master grunted, sure that he could still hear the flickering of his flame. He raised his hand to the scepter and felt the radiating warmth. The flame continued to burn as fiercely as ever, only… its light had been stripped away, he discerned—a truth that prompted an icy-sharp chill to crawl up his spine.
Not two seconds later, his attention was snatched to deep into the perpendicular hall. Six small, yellow lights, like fireflies, sparked up and circled the approaching origin in different orbits, similar to images of atoms in text books. And they buzzed like the rapid beating of tiny wings.
It was a sight that Master Rosen recognized and gravely feared.
He turned to aim his scepter, but one of the small lights shot forward and took it from his grasp. The other five became half circles, snatched the master by the arms legs and throat and pinned him against the corridor wall.
Master Rosen stared ahead, unable to see the man that he knew to be there.
"How are you still alive?" He fought against the tight ring around his neck to speak. "Benjamin."
"We both know the answer to that question, master." The light in the immediate vicinity returned, revealing a man standing before Rosen. Traditional robes, a single black glove, and remarkably dark eyes. "And I've denounced that name. I am Killer-B."
"Why are you here?
" asked the pinned instructor, struggling to spot his scepter.
"Don't get any ideas," warned the renegade.
With a wave of his finger, one of his buzzing lights darkened to a sinister red hue, before flashing to the tool. The scepter was obliterated completely.
"And I am here because I have to be. I'm here because your kind have once again, forced us to take action."
His scepter may have been lost but Master Rosen wasn’t prepared to give up just yet, "If the Black Hand intends to harm even a single child—"
"You needn't worry," the young man said. "I have been ordered not to kill any children. They are our future."
"Then, what?"
It was the look in Caster’s eyes that broke Rosen’s heart. They were so distant, so cold, as if he was looking right through his pinned former master. As if there was no moral compass behind them. Master Rosen acknowledged this tragedy as his own failure, a crime for which he was resigned to take responsibility.
Perhaps it was too late to redeem himself, but it was not too late to send a message. He stubbornly focused his source.
"Dearest friend, Master Rosen, I've been sent to deliver the message that there are greater things to fear." His dark eyes lowered as if to relent, but there was hate on his tongue when he beckoned, "Swarm."
Dozens of small lights appeared all around Killer-B, enough power to steal the voice and breath from Master Rosen’s lips.
The renegade continued, "A message that this world won't soon forget."
Killer-B raised his gloved hand overhead and the bug-like lights gathered near the ceiling of the hall, their hum growing louder, hungrier. Master Rosen could only watch as yellow turned to red and the lights hailed down like a storm of swords.
E. D. Watley
writes from his home in Southern California, where he spends too much of his time driving.
Table of Contents
Prologue
First Contact
Bad Impression
Conjures
Physical Education
Friendship
Welcome Surprise
Dark Magic
Mysteries and a Rose
Electives
The Dean
Earth
Lift
Bad Blood
Sri Ranuka
Wind
Fire
Passion!
Water
Oddities and Omens
Obscure Revelations
Broken
Back to Life
Into The Shadows
Confusion
Dates and Other Engagements
Midwinter Festival
Break
The Wiccan Way
Eye for an Eye
A Real Mage
Punishment
Detention
The Labyrinth
With the Right Will
Catching up, With Masters
Onto The Right Tracker
Fun and Games
Fruits of Labor
Sabotage
New Incantations
Sad But True
The Upperclassmen
Scapegoat
Abandonment
Return
The Final Exams I
Darkness And Light
The Final Exams II
Changes
Epilogue