MARK OF THE FOOL 2

©2023 J.M. CLARKE

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Contents

1.  The Path Alone

2.  Fire and Coils

3.  Many Hands Make Light Work

4.  An Elemental Battle

5.  Pack Tactics

6.  Fire and Midterms

7.  Challenge

8.  A Mana Monster

9.  Growing Bonds

10.  Chancellors, Ships and Priests

11.  Pirate Tales and Dances

12.  A Fine Evening and Anxious Morning

13.  The Interview

14.  Honours

15.  Isolde’s Pressure

16.  The Rally

17.  The Demons

18.  The Chancellor’s Power

19.  The Weight of Secrets

20.  The First Meeting of the Cabal

21.  Taking a Chance

22.  Ram’s Forceful Guidance

23.  The Cleansing Movements

24.  Family Time

25.  The Masks that are Worn

26.  Nostalgic Recipes and Warnings

27.  The Festival of Ghosts

28.  Opportunities and Exams

29.  Golem Sculpting and the Sky-Ship

30.  Dryads

31.  The Stand-Off

32.  Haste and Lateness

33.  Secret Analysis

34.  Essence of Dungeon

35.  Preparing to do Horrifying Things

36.  Direction and Redirection

37.  Beneath the Barrens

38.  The Skeletal Ruins

39.  Names Left Behind

40.  Traps

41.  Creeping Doom

42.  Gateways and Redesigns

43.  Unreliable Lateness

44.  The Core’s Properties

45.  Design Improvements

46.  Hunt-mania

47.  Rampage

48.  The Opportunist

49.  Lances, Cries and Shock

50.  The Impetus of Death

51.  Consultation and a Leap of Trust

52.  The Chancellor’s Reaction

53.  A Proposition

54.  Allies

55.  Forging a Body and Plan

56.  Stealing the Enemy’s Weapon

57.  The Forging

58.  The Hunters

59.  The Nest

60.  The Xyrthak

61.  A Cold Delivery

62.  Cuts, Teeth and Mana

63.  The Path of Proper Wizards

64.  Frozen Doors and Crooked Rectangles

65.  The Talk

66.  Rumble in the Alley

67.  A Hunger for Vengeance and Mana

68.  Escape and Hunting

69.  The Beating

70.  Preparing the Specimen

71.  The World’s Worst Teabag

72.  The Siphoning

73.  Roth; or, The Magical Prometheus

74.  Hunters’ Gathering

75.  Isolde’s Dread

76.  Preparing for a Long-Awaited Party

77.  Reflections Under Moonlight

78.  A Dance of Minotaurs

79.  Shadows in the Garden

80.  A Battle of Masks and Claws

81.  Claygon

82.  A Duel in Dust

83.  A Successful Operation

84.  Bouncing Back

85.  Reaffirmation

86.  A Journey From Tree to Tree

87.  The Expedition and the Doodle

Thank you for reading Mark of the Fool 2!

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LitRPG

Chapter 1

The Path Alone

Selina had barely spoken a word for days.

Now, at the breakfast table, she, Theresa and Alex ate with a heavy silence over them. Even Brutus was in a poor mood; his ears and heads drooped low over his meal.

The little girl picked at her porridge, as though she were in a haze. Her eyes—puffy and red—barely looked up from her spoon. Selina hadn’t been sleeping well, waking often and crying into her pillow, though she tried to remain quiet. It was happening almost every night.

Theresa often woke from her distress and would try to calm her by talking gently and comforting her enough to fall back to sleep.

Alex glanced at the little clay constructions they’d set on the windowsill.

The last one Selina made—a clay version of a snowman she shaped after they’d come home from her mana test—sat at the end of the row. She had done it quietly and quickly, and hadn’t touched clay since. Even when Alex tried to coax her into working together.

He was going a little crazy with worry.

‘Fire. Of all damned things, why’d it have to be fire?’ He cursed their luck.

A sick sort of shared experience was anchored between them. Against all odds, he’d received a Hero’s Mark: a rare thing he’d never wanted. And now, it turned out she had an affinity for fire magic: a rare thing she’d never wanted.

Siblings with “gifts” neither had ever asked for.

According to Mr. Powell, her fire affinity was very strong too; he’d said as much to Alex when they’d discussed what it all meant for Selina after her mana test.

He shook his head. That was a question that still had to be answered.

“So, what’re you learning in school today, Selina?” he asked, forcing as much cheer into his voice as he could.

Her eyes didn’t budge from the table.

“Selina?” he pushed.

“Multiplying,” she said. Her mouth barely moved and her voice was a low whisper. Her tone made it clear she didn’t want to talk.

He and Theresa exchanged a glance.

“That sounds fun,” he continued.

She didn’t respond.

“Would you like—”

“I’m done now,” she said, sliding her bowl away.

Alex looked down at the bowl. A good part of it still contained food.

“You should, uh, finish, Selina,” he said.

“I’m done.”

“No good’s going to come of starving yourself; finish your porridge,” he insisted.

“I said I’m done.” A sullen stubbornness entered her voice.

“Selina, you’re not leaving this table until you finish.” He remembered his mother and father saying that to them when they didn’t want to eat their vegetables. “We’ll just sit here and wait for you, and you’re going to be late for school. So will Theresa and me. You won’t be very happy about that, will you?”

Her face turned red, then she angrily lifted the spoon and started to shove the rest of the porridge into her little mouth.

Theresa gasped. “Selina, slow down! You’ll burn yoursel—” She caught herself, her eyes wide.

Selina didn’t break pace until it was all gone.

Clatter.

“Done,” she said sharply, and pushed her chair away from the table. She glared at the bowl and then at Theresa. “Maybe it should burn me.”

She stomped into their shared room while the young man and woman could only stare after her.

Dismayed, Alex had no idea what to do.

He was her brother—not her parent. He had no experience to draw from to help her.

And neither their parents nor Theresa’s were around to soothe her.

Alex felt… vulnerable in a way he hadn’t since they’d arrived in Generasi. If only he had an older person to talk to. In Alric, one could go to the priests if they needed help with problems of the mind, spirit, or heart.

But even that wasn’t an option anymore thanks to his Mark.

“Today’s class will be a new challenge for all of you,” Baelin said. “Today, you will each be entering the Barrens alone.”

Alex’s breath caught. Theresa, Khalik and Isolde froze.

Thundar only nodded his readiness, thumbing his mace.

Svenia and Hogarth sputtered in their seats and the rest of class murmured to each other. Eyvinder looked like he might actively protest.

Baelin held up a hand.

“This might make some of you nervous, particularly if you are auditing this course to aid and protect those you’ve accompanied, but this is a vital step. With our first test, we determined which class members have the basic skills to apply the strategies and tactics taught in this course. We also tested your ability to work as a team. The second outing was to allow you practice with capturing foes, as opposed to killing them. To deal with foes with a terrain advantage, and to learn how to operate in a team with non-wizards. However, you will not always be in a combat situation with the luxury of companions. Sometimes, they or you will be attacked when alone, and in enemy terrain. Today, you will have an opportunity to adapt to such circumstances.”

Alex glanced at Theresa, his nerves rising. After what was happening with Selina, the last thing he wanted was to be alone, travelling on foot through the Barrens.

Then there was the Mark to consider. Until now, he’d been using tactics, evasion, terrain and trickery to disrupt his opponents, and then setting up others to deliver the final blow. The only times he’d ever finished off opponents himself were when he’d burned the worker spider swarm, and smashed the inside of the bonedrinker’s skull.

For a fleeting moment, he thought about asking to be excused.

He shook away the thought.

That would only serve to deny him an opportunity to practice with Baelin there as a safety net. Sooner or later, a time would come when he’d have to finish an opponent by himself. If he was frozen in indecision with the Mark all too ready to intrude, then what would he do?

He tried to push away his thoughts and distractions. Acknowledge them and let them go. Unfortunately, they were very insistent on sticking around.

“Today, we’ll be going to the crevices within the Barrens toward the southern reach. This is one of the hottest parts. Keep that in mind as you manage your resources.”

Baelin snapped his fingers, materializing small wooden orbs—one for each student and their companions auditing the course—in mid-air. “These will be your goal for today’s lesson. You will each receive a map. That map will have a number on it: each of you must find the orb that has the number which corresponds to your map.”

He waved a hand. A number of maps shimmered into the air above the group and gently floated down into laps or waiting hands.

The number ‘11’ was scrawled at the top of Alex’s in neat script. The map itself displayed a massive network of crevices covering a vast area: a veritable maze with more than enough room for everyone present to hunt for their targets without crossing paths. Two sections of the crevices were circled.

“Because of the heat, there are not many monsters in this region. Even the rather abundant muupkaras avoid this place. The most common threats you will experience are bright-spitters, and the occasional small earth elemental. You should be able to handle or avoid most of these. If you encounter something… unexpected, that you cannot handle—bright-spitters can grow very large—call for me through the spells I cast upon you. I will watch from above, but I will not interfere unless it is clear that you cannot turn the situation to your advantage.”

Alex looked down at the symbol of Baelin’s magic. The same one he’d cast on them during the first test.

“Do note this experience will be taking things to the next level. Do not rely simply on the magic’s automatic ability to bring you to my side if you are in danger. It will call you to me if you are greatly injured, but an instantly fatal blow is, well…” He let the statement hang, unfinished. “Oh, and—”

He held up one finger.

“—until you each find your orbs, you are not permitted to aid one another. Even should you encounter each other during your search. After each of you has found your goal, and should you then encounter a classmate, you will be permitted to band together to help each other reach an extraction point.”

Nua-Oge raised her hand. “Since we’ll be on our own, may I cast a spell on Grimloch before we go? Just to protect him from the excessive heat. His people and mine cannot tolerate it well.”

“Hrm… Normally, I prefer that no spells be cast until you are at the assigned task. But you are right, both of your peoples would have far more difficulty with this than others in the class. Very well, you may armour him in the Shield of Darkwater, but you may engage in no other preparations. Steel yourselves and get ready.”

After the now very familiar feel of Baelin’s teleportation, Alex materialized at the bottom of a crevice, all alone. The crevice rose high over him, ending perhaps thirty feet above. The path he stood on at the bottom was fairly narrow, perhaps only fifteen feet wide, with rocks and shattered stones scattered among dust.

The heat hit him like a blacksmith’s forge fire.

He’d only been within the Barrens for a heartbeat and sweat already sprang up on his skin. Reaching into his bag, he quickly drew out some of the potions he’d made in Professor Jules’ class.

There was a Potion of Sense Enhancement, two Potions of Body Enhancement—one for strength and one for stamina—and the Potion of Running Enhancement he’d made during the lab where the student had poisoned himself. Alex hadn’t seen the young man since, and wondered what happened to him.

He removed the final potion and turned it, the sunlight catching on the glass and rust-coloured substance within. His Potion of Heat and Fire Tolerance. It was a less potent version, and would only last a couple of hours, but that should be more than enough time to finish this challenge.

Alone.

Crumble.

Alex whirled around, eyes searching the sun-baked walls of the crevice. The stone was craggy and would provide plenty of hiding places for smaller monsters.

The hair on the back of his neck began to rise.

He felt naked—a mere baker’s assistant about to head into danger, with only a few potions and some utility spells to aid him. And it was during a time when his sister was going through something awful and he didn’t know how to help her. Now, he was supposed to keep himself safe as well.

He steeled his nerves like Baelin advised, acknowledging that dangers lay ahead on the path of wizardry, no matter where that road took him. This was necessary.

Think. Adapt.

‘But what if some monster comes out too fast for Baelin to help you?’ his treacherous mind asked. ‘What if—’

‘Quiet,’ he told himself. ‘Not going to help right now.’

He popped the cork on the Potion of Heat Resistance and chugged it, making a face. It tasted like… well, a bunch of strange herbs and alchemical substances, but the magic that coursed through him felt good. Immediately, his body underwent a cooling sensation as if the sun had slipped behind a cloud.

The heat was still there, it just didn’t bother him.

He conjured his forceball and hung his bag over it to conserve his energy, then looked at the map. Already he’d encountered his first hurdle. While the map indicated his extraction point and where he would find the orb, it didn’t indicate exactly where he’d been teleported to for his starting point, and the crevice he was in didn’t provide any notable landmarks to use to figure it out.

He looked to the wall and rotated his shoulder.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Concentrating, he conjured forcedisk and approached the craggy wall, slowly beginning to scale it. Aside from doing pull-ups on a horizontal steel hanging ladder set up at the university’s gymnasium, Alex was definitely a novice when it came to climbing. Luckily, he was much stronger now. He took it slow—allowing the Mark to correct his form as he ascended—and kept both forceball and forcedisk close at hand.

Neither were strong enough to bear his full weight yet. At least with their improvements, they were strong enough to support a portion of his weight, bolstering him as he scaled the crevice wall. His muscles tensed as he pulled his way closer to his objective.

When he reached the top, he hauled himself up, exhaling in relief. A little more than two months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to even begin trying to scale such a hurdle. Now, he’d accomplished it with his own body strength and two spells. Normally, he’d be jumping for joy, but today, he really wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. Not with his little sister so heavy in his thoughts.

Alex spotted distant crevices, noting two shapes flying through the sky; likely Rayne and Najyah. There were other outlines near the crevices, but he couldn’t tell who they were from this distance. He glanced up to the clouds—there floated the horned silhouette of Baelin, gazing down on them like some sort of god.

Gods…

Alex’s teeth clenched.

Had it been Uldar who’d granted Selina her mana—the very thing that killed their family? Was that it? Or was it some sort of sick, random chance? The same chance that saw him get the Mark?

“Shit,” he muttered.

At least he could make the best of the Mark. It wasn’t the very thing that traumatized them four years ago. But… for Selina, not only did she get this awful “gift,” she was only ten years old. How was she supposed to cope with this?

“Damn you,” he cursed at no one in particular.

He shook his head, trying to use his meditation techniques to acknowledge how angry he was and let it pass. Even that much was challenging.

Focusing his attention on the map, and noting the layout of the crevices, he found his location.

“Good.” He tapped the map.

Where he needed to go wasn’t that far, and he could get there even faster if he went overland instead of along the bottom where he’d started.

Shouts suddenly reached him from a distance.

He looked up to see Najyah’s and Rayne’s silhouettes flying down into the crevices. Other forms were scrambling into them as well.

What was going on?

He glanced up at the sky and his eyes went wide.

Scores of long, sinewy forms were launching into the air from a far distant crevice—they resembled snakes with bird’s wings. Bright flashes of fire and light gushed in front of them.

They must be the bright-spitters the chancellor mentioned.

Some of them surged into the sky toward Baelin, while others swept over the landscape at frightening speed.

“Oh, hell,” Alex said, running back to his crevice.

Chapter 2

Fire and Coils

Jagged rock bit into Alex’s hands as he scrambled back down.

Pebbles rattled down the wall as rubble and dust were disturbed in his rush to reach the crevice floor. Images of the flying serpents catching him plagued his mind, and he had to fight a desperate urge to jump the rest of the way.

But a broken neck would likely be the only thing he’d reach if he did that.

Utilizing his two spells, he was able to balance himself enough to make it to the crevice floor, and from above, the crackle and rush of flame drew closer.

“Fire,” he growled. “It just had to be fire.”

For a brief, irrational moment, he imagined himself climbing back up, using his forceball, some rocks, or even his two fists to smash those fire-breathing bastards to pulp. For the first time in a long while, he actively cursed the day that jester’s face had been branded on his shoulder.

He needed to act, so he channelled his anger into action by drawing out the Potion of Running Enhancement and chugging it back.

Power surged through his body, spreading, and centring heavily on his legs. Balling his hands into fists, he dug the balls of his feet into the dusty ground and started to sprint.

His body shot forward like an arrow

“Oh shi—!” he cried, regaining his balance.

If he hadn’t trained his running technique so well, he would have lost footing and tripped, smashing headlong into the rock. The potion had practically doubled his speed; he would need to quickly adjust to keep his footing. He paced his breathing.

The rocky walls whipped by as he listened for the sound of flaring fire breath. He leapt over rocks, and steered his body along the curving pathway. His two spells followed in tandem.

Thoom.

Crackle.

In the far distance, exploding fireballs and crackling lightning sounded. Alex wondered what had become of the bright-spitters that went after Baelin and—more importantly—he wondered how Khalik, Isolde, Thundar, Theresa and the rest were doing.

Losing anyone else to fire was too unbearable to even think about.

Pumping his arms, he sprinted around another bend in the path.

He cocked his head, listening toward the sky. Alongside the fire breath fading into the distance behind him, the distinct crackles grew louder, approaching from up ahead.

He skidded to a halt, noting a part of the path where one side was covered by a rocky overhang. Alex ducked down and rolled beneath it, pressing himself flat to the dusty floor.

A swarm of beating wings appeared overhead, accompanied by that roaring fire and the hiss of flying serpents. An ominous rattling beneath it all kept him still as the stone around him.

He stayed hidden until the sounds of the bright-spitters had receded in the distance, then he rolled out from under the outcropping. Alex looked cautiously about the crevice, saw nothing around, and began running again.

He raced along the path until the Potion of Running Enhancement faded a short while later. He’d made good progress despite stopping and now all he needed to do was pace himself.

Whoosh.

A rock the size of his orb crashed into the wall, hitting where his skull had been a moment before.

“What the hell?” Alex started and looked up.

A creature was half-emerged from the stone, like a torso rising from a stream. It was malformed with an uneven, misshapen trunk and arms, and a jagged head shaped like a blacksmith’s anvil—the thing was formed entirely of craggy rock. A sand-coloured earth elemental. Alex stared in shock as it dug a three-fingered hand into the surface of the wall like it was water, and ripped out another stone the size of his head.

It began to spin in place, gathering speed, and whipped the rock at him.

“Oh shit!” Alex dove forward.

Crash!

It shattered against the wall just as he covered his head. Sharp pebbles flew, striking him, and he yelled in pain. Gritting his teeth, he checked to see where the monster was, then on a whim, shot his forcedisk toward it.

Since it was made of stone, maybe the Mark wouldn’t—

Images of failed spells and miss-thrown objects slammed into his mind.

“Oh, by Uldar!” he cursed, inwardly glaring at his shoulder as he scrambled to his feet and began to run. “Seriously! Go. To. Hell!”

He pushed away the images the Mark showed him and took off down the path as fast as he could move, dodging left and right while the creature lobbed rocks like falling rain. He skidded around a corner a heartbeat before another stone smashed against the wall behind him. Alex kept moving for a while before glancing back to make sure it wasn’t following him.

Luckily, it didn’t seem to be.

Annoyance began to grow as he headed along the pathway.

He thought about how long it had taken to learn Wizard’s Hand. If he’d learned it a bit faster, he might have a Force Shield ready to cast now. What he wouldn’t give for some extra protection while he was alone.

Those thoughts buoyed his anger.

No, he didn’t just want extra protection.

He wanted a way to fight back.

His rational mind told him that was why he was working so hard to prepare himself to be able to build a golem. What his emotions wanted was to have an ice spell like Malcolm’s so he could freeze those damned flying fire snakes and shatter them like icicles.

Or bolts of magic to blast that earth elemental into rock dust.

Just something to fight back with.

Not with a mop. Not with distraction. Not with dancing or utility spells. A regular way to fight back without the Mark screaming at him. The fire from the night his parents died returned to his mind, along with the sparks of flame the sprites who’d landed on his little sister made, and the fire blasted by those bright-spitters.

Of course, he didn’t have a regular way to fight.

Uldar had seen to it he never could.

In that moment, if the bearded, smiling face of Uldar appeared before him, he might have tried driving his fist into it, Mark or no Mark.

He thought about checking the map, but decided to call on the Mark instead, focusing on the idea of navigating his way to the orb. A mental image of the map, along with other images, flowed into his mind, with focus on the path along the crevice floor as well as the section that represented his crevice.

He noted the shape of the path around him and focused on where it was on the map’s image. His mind examined the circled section the orb was supposed to be in.

There.

He was almost at the circle.

Alex entered a part of the crevice that stretched out twice as wide and stopped, taking in deep, meditative breaths. Alright. He was angry. He acknowledged that. Standing still, catching his breath and breathing slowly, he acknowledged his anger, then let it go. Even though the anger was still there, the emotion wasn’t as sharp, and at least he felt like punching Uldar a little less.

He could rage later. For now, he’d made it to the area where he was supposed to find the orb. That was already half his challenge over with.

‘You’re not going to be much help to yourself or anyone else, if you get your face knocked off trying to punch a god or a rock man,’ he told himself, reaching into the basket suspended on his forceball and pulling out his Potion of Sense Enhancement.

Swallowing it down, Alex cringed as the magic raced through him, spreading to his skin, ears, eyes, nose and mouth. For a disorienting moment, none of his senses seemed to be his own.

The scent of his own sweat—mixed with the scented soap he’d used to wash clothes—slammed into his nostrils. His breathing sounded like a bullhorn in his ears, and beyond the crevice, the distant sounds of battle were far clearer.

For a moment, the sun seemed overwhelmingly bright before his eyes adjusted to the light. A myriad of tiny details on the surrounding rock jumped out at him, like when he’d used the Mark on the wall in the Cave of the Traveller.

He searched for signs of disturbed stone or hidden caches. He also activated the Mark, to ‘learn’ the stone. His eyes scrutinized the surfaces, looking for variations.

They paused on a dusty protrusion, one with a barely visible hole—just large enough to slip something into.

It was around ten feet above the crevice floor, necessitating a climb—unless. Concentrating, he dismissed his forcedisk and concentrated on casting Wizard’s Hand. He’d worked out how to simplify the parts of the spell array he didn’t need, making casting it faster and more reliable.

Woom.

The glowing hand appeared before him, and he gave it an experimental finger wiggle before sending it toward the hole. He flattened it just before it floated inside. The spell gave him ‘tactile’ feedback he could feel by way of his mana. Of course, he couldn’t see where the hand was going. Slowly edging it forward, feeling through the dark, his eyes fixed on the hole above.

Inside, it felt like a fairly deep but narrow tunnel. Hopefully, that meant it was where Baelin had placed the or—

Rttttttt.

An aggressive rattling sounded from inside the hole.

Alex dragged his spell back.

Fwoosh!

Wizard’s Hand flew out as a gush of fire flared outward. The bright light flashed, stinging his now extra sensitive eyes. He cried out, stumbling back and blinking away dancing sparks of light, then glanced up in time to see a creature emerge.

The bright-spitter looked something like the black adders found around waterways close to Alric, with a much longer snout and feathered wings spread at its sides. Its scales were striped, varying between orange and black—like fire and ash—and its eyes glowed like coals.

It hissed, rattling its tail menacingly, then surged toward Alex with jaws spread wide. A blinding gush of flame blasted near him as he leapt to the side, slamming his eyes shut. The scorching heat was dampened by the potion coursing through him, but if it ever hit him full on, he’d be baked.

He fell into his dance, dodging away from the serpent while his mind worked through what he could do to stop it. No allies. No offensive spells. He had the fire-gems in his pack, but he didn’t want to waste one on a snake. Especially since the flame magic might not even hurt a creature of fire.

No solutions were coming to him.

The bright-spitter paused its fire breath and stilled in mid-air, watching him with burning eyes. Its beating wings held it suspended. The creature shot forward like an arrow. Alex slipped out of the way using his enhanced senses, but the creature was fast, agile and airborne—and manoeuvred in ways his past opponents couldn’t.

While he was limited to using the three parts of the Dance he’d learned, its superior manoeuvring allowed it to close the distance.

Its jaws snapped open.

Crunch.

“Aaargh!” Alex shouted as its teeth sank into his arm. It began to coil around his trunk. Panic gripped him. Its elongated form was well over nine feet long and fairly lightweight, but strong for its size. It held him motionless, his arms pinned to his sides, squeezing, coiling tighter, seeking to crush the air from his lungs. He flexed his torso, trying to break free. The coils tensed, constraining him further.

A part of his mind was suddenly aware that the Mark wasn’t reacting to him trying to get free, but the thought was shoved aside as the snake spread its jaws readying to spout flames.

Instinctively, Alex shot his forceball between himself and the bright-spitter’s face, trying to block it. It reared back, biting at the orb. He’d bought himself moments. Wizard’s Hand dove into the basket, grabbing the Potion of Strength Enhancement, flicked the cork off with its thumb, and poured it down Alex’s throat.

Power surged into his muscles as the magic spread through him and—with a roar—he began forcing his arms away from his body, pushing at the coils. Again, the Mark did not protest.

His mind flashed to when he’d jumped on the vent-drinker and tackled it to hold it in place, the Mark hadn’t reacted. When he’d swept his forceball in front of the mana vampire, it hadn’t reacted either.

He hadn’t been attempting to injure, hadn’t used a weapon, or any technique designed for combat.

What if…

He sent Wizard’s Hand to the serpent’s head and grabbed its neck—not to injure it—but to pull it away. Like a mother cat moving her kitten. He focused his mind on ‘just moving it.’

The Mark did not react.

Wizard’s Hand began turning the snake’s head—pulling its fire-breathing jaws away—and the leverage gave him the chance to weaken its hold and push free of its constricting grip. As its sinewy body whipped around under Wizard Hand’s grasp, he reached for it, grabbing its upper body and rattling tail. Alex simply held it in place, making use of his enhanced strength.

The Mark did not react and—though the bright-spitter flapped and struggled—he was able to stop it from burning or coiling around him.

He considered the creature he was holding and was stunned by what he’d just been able to do.

It seemed a new loophole had presented itself.

Chapter 3

Many Hands Make Light Work

Luckily, he’d calmed down.

If he’d tried to kill the bright-spitter like he’d imagined doing earlier, he wouldn’t have come to his realization.

Standing there, holding a live, fire-breathing snake did, however, present a problem: what in the world was he supposed to do with it now?

The thing writhed and rattled—beating its wings against him—as it started spitting flame again. Alex squinted against the sudden brightness. He needed to take care of first things first and fast. He didn’t want to find himself still holding it if his Potion of Strength Enhancement faded.

Alex shifted his grip, grabbing the top of its neck and immobilizing its head. He definitely didn’t want it squirming that fire breath toward him. Then he sent Wizard’s Hand back into the tunnel to search for the hidden orb. It felt around, examining the ceiling, walls and floor, until it touched something smooth, small and perfectly round: the hidden orb. Wizard’s Hand picked it up, turned upside down and opened so the orb nestled in its palm, and backed out of the tunnel.

Alex brought the spell to his basket and dropped the orb in.

Next, he had to consider what to do with the snake. Something about trying to strangle it didn’t quite sit right with him. Besides, when the Mark interfered—and there was no doubt it would interfere—he might lose his grip.

Then, it would fry him.

He glanced up at the hole and back to Wizard’s Hand. An idea was forming. Since he’d modified Wizard’s Hand to take in more mana, strengthening it—like he’d done with forceball and forcedisk—it should be able to lift the bright-spitter. Except, the snake’s beating wings could enable it to resist being moved.

Maybe if he pressed the forceball against one of its wings, that would throw it off-balance and keep it from spreading them. It was worth a try. Wizard’s Hand grabbed the back of its neck as he simultaneously removed his own hand. Holding it by the tail, he began to spin it to dizzy it, picking up momentum with every swing.

It stopped struggling.

Alex spun, flinging the bright-spitter toward the hole.

It whipped through the air like a limp rope, with Wizard’s Hand guiding it to the opening and pulling it deep inside. Forceball hovered near the entrance and—when Alex brought Wizard’s Hand out—it moved to block the tunnel. He scanned the crevice floor, searching for a good sized-rock to replace his forceball as a barrier.

Noticing a pile of stones the size of his forceball below the hole, he sent Wizard’s Hand to carry one to the opening and jam it in place. By the time that bright-spitter burned its way out, Alex planned to be long gone.

Sprinting away from the creature’s lair, he dashed through the crevice, listening as the sounds of battle grew louder. He was getting close to the others.

A sudden, burning pain radiated from his upper arm and he stopped. Looking down, Alex noticed blood covering his shirt sleeve, right where the bright-spitter had bitten him. “Shit! I forgot that thing bit me.”

The pain was getting worse.

It was probably hurting so much because of the Sense Enhancement Potion. Which was a down side, he supposed. The wound was oval-shaped like the snake’s opened mouth and was bleeding through a coating of ash. “That’s definitely gonna leave a scar,” he muttered. At least, he didn’t think he’d been poisoned since the bright-spitter hadn’t had any fangs and he wasn’t on the ground, twitching and dying. For now, the best he could do was clean it off until someone at the infirmary could take a look.

Alex poured water from his basket onto the wound and wiped it with his shirt tail. He took a long drink, put the waterskin away, and resumed running, reflecting on what just happened with the bright-spitter.

He was beginning to get the specifics of the Mark’s reactions toward combat.

They were strongest in two situations. First, when he was involved with weapons or techniques made for combat. Second, when he engaged in an action that would actively harm another creature or—like during the spell-joust—destroy one of their spells.

The Mark hadn’t interfered when he’d wrangled the vent-drinker, moved the snake, or distracted the mana vampire. He’d also blown dust in creatures’ faces and destroyed objects with no foolish objections.

His frown deepened.

The one thing that wasn’t fitting was when he’d tried to knock the dungeon core away from the hive-queen. His forceball didn’t have enough power to destroy it… so then, why did it react?

Was it because disarming her would have negatively affected her and the core in a battle situation? The dungeon core had been healing her and—

The possibility came at him hard, and he nearly stumbled.

“Oh, I am the dumbest thing ever born,” he muttered.

The dungeon core was alive!

Or at the very least, it was sentient and had mana. That was probably why the Mark interfered with him striking it directly. It registered the action as combat!

He thought back on Gregori’s spell during their spell-joust. It was forceball, an ongoing spell, so it was directly connected with Gregori’s mana. Alex remembered how the mana vampire had harmed him by draining his mana through his forceball.

Maybe that was why it gave him trouble during the spell-joust as well.

His mind returned to the dungeon core and when he’d tried to destroy it. The Mark hadn’t interfered with him then… it had guided him on how to actively connect to it, not how to kill it. That connection allowed him to bring it in contact with the Traveller’s mana—an indirect effect, like guiding the fire-beams toward the spider horde.

He stopped for a moment, pulling his notebook and pen from the basket, and wrote while he walked. The Sense Enhancement Potion wore off and his senses returned to normal, along with the intense pain from the bite.

Active harm triggers? Indirect harm does not? Active harmless actions—including moving things even if they struggle—does not trigger?

Moving things was not necessarily a combat action, now that he thought about it. He’d accidentally kicked Selina off the bed when he was asleep and he hadn’t even known he’d done it. If he was a farmer, he’d have to move cows to milk them, or struggling chickens just to get their eggs. Neither were combat actions. If someone had to engage in true battle against hens every time they wanted eggs, people would need to beware of chicke—

A massive shape lurched at him from around the path.

He shouted, throwing up his hands defensively.

The monster was enormous. Taller than Alex, who only came up to the top of the beast’s belly, and it was maybe five times his weight. It was surrounded by an armour of shadow and liquid. Its eyes were black and lifeless like a doll’s, and its serrated tee—

Wait a minute.

“Grimloch?” Alex lowered his hands.

Those doll’s eyes narrowed. “You, I know your face,” the shark man gnashed out. Blood stains surrounded the giant’s mouth. In one massive hand, he clasped a wooden orb.

“And I definitely know yours,” Alex said, nodding at Grimloch’s orb. “I—”

Crack!

A blue bolt of lightning crackled into the distant sky. It must have been Isolde; Alex hoped she was alright.

Grimloch grunted, looking in the direction of the lightning bolt. “Name again?”

“Uh, Alex.”

“Right.” Grimloch held up his orb. “You get yours?”

“Yeah, I just did.” Alex showed it to the shark man. “That means we can team up. …Did you, uh, meet anyone else before you got here?”

The shark man grunted again. “Just Angelar, but that was before we’d found our orbs. You?”

“No, you’re the first.” Alex cocked his ear to the air.

The sounds of spell and flame had faded.

“No point in standing around talking,” the shark man growled, bringing up his map. His extraction point was the same as Alex’s. “Let’s walk.”

The young human and the hulking beastman looked up, noting they were in a cross-way of four crevices. A glance at the map, and Alex’s navigation skill confirmed they would need the one winding to the east to reach their goal.

“Where’d you find your orb?” Alex asked.

“Under a boulder,” the shark man said. “Second place I checked; good thing it was easy to lift.”

Alex had trouble imagining a boulder that wouldn’t be easy for Grimloch to lift.

“Well, you’re luckier than I was,” Alex said. “Mine was in a hole in a wall ten feet up, and one of those fire-spitters was hiding in it.”

Grimloch was silent for a moment. “Too bad.”

“Well, I figured it out.” Alex shrugged.

“Wish I had yours. Caught a couple of snakes. Taste good, wouldn’t mind a third.”

Alex’s eyes fell to the red on Grimloch’s mouth.

He quickly looked away. “Well, uh, if we run into any more, you can have them.”

“Really?” He looked down at him. “Your loss. My gain, then. Will return the favour.”

They fell into another silence as they trekked through the crevice. Alex’s mind gradually returned to the Mark. He wished it had come with a book of instructions. If he was right about when it interfered and what it considered combat, then a Fool could still defend themselves in battle.

Sidestepping through dance was one thing—he could see how that would be seen as useless or silly when engaged in a life and death battle with the Ravener—but being able to move and hold enemies opened up his options.

…or did it?

Now that he thought about it, Brutus had a hard time holding down a silence-spider. Even a fairly strong man couldn’t have grappled one down without magic to boost his strength. And even if a Fool could grab and hold a single silence-spider, the Chosen had annihilated an entire horde by himself.

Next to that sheer amount of power, a Fool who could tackle, hold or move an attacker wouldn’t be much more useful in a fight than one who could juggle, and dance, or whatever else. If anything, they’d put themselves at more risk and have to be rescued by the other Heroes.

Despite the downside, his revelation was still a useful one.

Later—he’d experiment and see how his hypothesis held out—the information might open up new avenues and possibilities for defence and attack. Spells that moved or trapped enemies would be good ones to go to once his research was done. When he finished learning the Spear-and-Oar Dance, he could look for another dance or system of movement that focused on redirecting force, rather than applying it.

A darker thought occurred to him.

He flashed back to the student who choked on quicksilver.

Poison.

He doubted the Mark would allow him to directly use it on an attacker—though he could still experiment with that—but maybe an indirect method of applying it could work. Maybe if there was a way to infuse quicksilver with mana and vaporise it into a cloud of gas; that could be something lethal that could be used in an indirect way.

He’d just need to come up with a method to make the potion vial explode.

The Mark would likely interfere with his aim if he threw it, but if the blast and gas cloud were large enough, then precise aim wouldn’t matter. The danger would be if it interfered with his aim and he dropped it at his own feet.

That would be a… well, foolish way to die.

But, if he used Wizard’s Hand to carry a poison-filled container and drop it, that would be safer for him. There were also gaseous potions that didn’t necessarily harm, like sleeping potions. Dropping one of those on bright-spitters would be a pretty good way to subdue them, and—since it wasn’t made to injure—the Mark might not interfere.

There were spells that affected an entire area instead of a single target—area of effect spells. He would need to find out if the Mark would prevent him from using attack spells that spread instead of attacking an enemy directly.

Alex considered the fireballs that Rhea and Shiani used and the lightning Isolde preferred. Would the Mark stop him from attacking with spells like those? Firing a spell that consumed someone in a blast of flame would cause direct harm, so the Mark would definitely interfere if he cast one of them like that.

Area of effect spells that didn’t hurt an opponent might be better, and barrier spells might work too. Would the Mark interfere with a spell that bound an opponent to a single location, like the shoggoth?

Every answer brought more questions. And the more he learned over time, the more questions would be answered

The more he could make the Mark his.

His mind returned to Selina.

Maybe thinking like that would help her too.

If she could see her affinity as her own—by making fire hers—she could turn something unwanted into something helpful, like he had. If she chose to, at least. He’d be perfectly fine if she wanted to walk away from magic altogether or learn magic that wasn’t about fire. It was her life, after all.

He just didn’t want her to hate herself.

How would he explain all that to her, though?

Maybe someone who knew more about fire magic could help. His mind drifted to the second-year, Shiani. She used fire spells in COMB-1000, but she’d been gentle when they were wrangling the vent-drinkers. Maybe he could ask her for some insights into fire to help him have a conversation with Selina.

Maybe even—

Crumble.

He held up his hand. “I heard something ahead.”

Grimloch snarled. “Me too.”

Crack.

The shark man’s knuckles popped as his massive hands curled into fists. He nodded to the curve ahead with his pointed snout and bared his teeth. Alex scooped up a handful of dust with Wizard’s Hand.

They exchanged nods and started forward.

“Wait!” a familiar voice called from around the bend. “Alex, is that you I smell?”

“Thundar?” Alex said. “Please tell me it’s you and not me going crazy from the heat.”

The familiar horned head of Thundar poked around the corner. “Real enough for you?”

Alex sighed in relief. Grimloch grunted—he definitely sounded disappointed.

As the minotaur rounded the corner, the doberman-like form of Angelar emerged behind him, panting from the heat with his tongue lolling out.

Thundar waved to Alex and Grimloch. “Got your orbs?”

Alex retrieved his orb, bouncing it up and down a couple of times on the palm of his hand. One bounce made it go sideways and he had to scramble to catch it. He chuckled embarrassedly.

‘I should learn to juggle,’ he thought. ‘All this time I’ve been using the Mark for serious business like school, and defending myself and stuff. Maybe I should learn something fun.’

Grimloch simply raised his orb between two fingertips.

“We have ours too!” Angelar said excitedly. “Thank the elements, now we can work together…” He peered behind them, sniffing the air. “Did you find a way to the extraction point beside this one?”

Alex frowned. “No, the map shows that this is the only way.”

A silence fell.

“Nothing else?” Thundar asked. “Not even something small and secret? A path that wouldn’t be on the map?”

“Nothing,” Grimloch gnashed the word, his teeth snapping the last syllable out.

“No, we didn’t see anything,” Alex said. “The only path is… is where you came from… Why are you heading this way?”

Angelar and Thundar looked at each other.

“You’re sure, sure, sure?” Angelar asked again.

“Yeah, why?” Alex said, nerves rising in his stomach.

Thundar sighed. “Then we’re up to our necks in pig shit. Follow us. We’ll show you.”

Chapter 4

An Elemental Battle

Boom! Scrrrrrp. Boom! Scrrrrp.

Stone ground across stone.

Hsssss—emerged from serpentine mouths.

“Oooooh, shit,” Alex swore.

The group was peering out from behind a boulder, looking at what Thundar and Angelar led them to see.

Beside him crouched Angelar, and Thundar peered over their heads. Above and behind all three, Grimloch poked his shark-like snout from behind the corner of the crevice wall.

But even he was dwarfed by the sight before them.

It was an earth elemental—misshapen, barely humanoid and sand-coloured, like the one Alex had seen earlier—but this monster must have been thirteen feet tall. The ground shook every time its massive, rocky legs took a step, and jutting from several holes in its craggy ‘flesh’ were the heads of bright-spitters, hissing and puffing out tiny lines of flame. The crevice it was in was wide—perhaps forty feet across—and the elemental was patrolling back and forth across its width.

From the way it moved, Alex thought it looked agitated, though he wasn’t sure if a giant moving pile of rock could be agitated.

He was sure it could be highly lethal, though.

So, a giant figure made of stone—capable of squashing him into a red paste with a single swing of its arms—served as the home for at least half a dozen creatures that spit searing, blinding fire, was pacing the crevice between them and safety.

“We’re so screwed,” he muttered.

“That’s what we were saying,” Angelar said bitterly, continuing to pant with drops of spittle falling to the stones below.

“Let’s back up,” Thundar suggested. “No sense in letting that thing spot us if it hasn’t already.”

The group pulled back from the giant elemental, retreating until there was at least a good hundred feet between them and the monster.

“Do we call the chancellor?” Angelar suggested, indicating the spell-mark on his hand. “He said to call him if any of those bright-spitters showed up that was too much for us to handle. And that thing’s absolutely too big for us to handle. I think he’d want us to call him.”

Alex stepped away from the group and peered up at the sky. The tiny silhouette of the chancellor was still outlined against the blue above. He noted where the wizard was floating.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Alex said. He pointed to the figure. “He’s floating pretty close by, that crevice is wide as hell and that elemental’s bigger than a lot of trees. I think he’s already seen it.”

Thundar snorted. “That means he thinks we can handle it. Probably.”

“We’re just first- and second-year students,” Angelar said, his eyes darting to the bend in the path. “I don’t think we could take something like that.”

“We killed the bonedrinker,” Thundar grunted. “But there were a lot more of us then, and we had a cliff to drop it off of.” He drew his mace and frowned at it. “It’d dent the hell out of my mace before I even cracked it.”

“Maybe he’s not waiting for us to defeat or break it.” Alex glanced up at Baelin. “If we don’t have the power to break it, maybe we just need to get past it. He has said that sometimes it’s about avoiding conflict, right?”

“Yeah… yeah… I think I follow.” Thundar’s eyes squinted in thought. “If we ran into a big fire-breathing snake that could fly, we’d need to run, die or get real lucky. But that elemental looks slow, and there’s a lot of ground around it. We could get past it if we moved quick enough.”

“What about those fire snakes?” Angelar said. “What if they fly at us while we’re trying to get around them? I’m not saying we can’t do it, but we’ll all be screwed if they start burning and blinding us, giving that thing a chance to grab us.”

“We eat them,” Grimloch said.

They all slowly looked at the large shark man.

“Right, not Alex; he said I get his share.” The shark man nodded to him appreciatively.

They continued to stare at him.

“You… can have my share too,” Thundar said.

“Mine too,” Angelar added.

Grimloch stared at them for a moment with his dull, black eyes. “More for me. No wonder you’re all so short. You don’t eat your meat.”

“I’m actually pretty tall compared to—” Alex paused. “Ah, never mind. But Grimloch’s half-right. If we can blast them away, kill them if they get too aggressive, or distract them, we should be able to get around the elemental fast enough.”

Thundar thought it over. “Your force spells, my Illusory Duplicate, Angelar’s magic bolts and Grimloch’s…” He craned his neck to look up at the colossal beastman. “…existence, should distract them. By the time it follows us, we should be at the extraction point.”

“What about going overland instead of through the crevices?” Alex asked. “Did you try that?”

“We climbed up and peeked over the edge.” Angelar glanced to the top of the wall. “The bright-spitters are still swarming. If we went up there, they’d be on us.”

“Right, nowhere but through, then.” Alex looked at both Grimloch and Thundar. “How agile are you feeling?”

“Agile enough to live,” Thundar snorted.

“I’m quick when I have to be,” Grimloch growled.

“Okay, then here’s what we do.” Alex crouched and began to draw in the dust. “That’s the elemental in the middle. We watch until it’s in the middle of the crevice, then we rush it and spread out on either side. I’ll go on the right with Thundar. Grimloch, you can go on the left with Angelar. Thundar, Grimloch, you’ll be closer in the middle of the formation, because I think you could duck the thing and outrun it—you both have longer legs. Meanwhile, Angelar and I—on the outside—will blast and distract the snakes and make it easier for all of us. How’s that?”

“Good plan to me,” Thundar said. “As long as we all move fast.”

“Hrm…” Grimloch studied the diagram. “We could take it. Throw it off its feet. Butcher it like a beached whale.”

“Let’s uh… maybe that’s the back-up plan,” Angelar said. “Let’s try and get around it first.”

The four companions slipped back to the corner of the crevice, peering around it. Alex removed his bag from his forceball and slung it over his shoulder. Carrying it would make him a bit slower, but he’d rather have the forceball available for distraction and whatever else came up.

They watched the rocky monster patrol back and forth, counting its steps and how long it took for it to make a full circle. Then, when it stepped in the middle…

“Now!” Alex shouted.

They tore around the corner, sprinting hard toward the elemental.

The giant rock figure paused, stone grinding against stone as it turned to them. The fire-spitters hissed and rattled in warning.

But they didn’t stop.

Thundar spat out a quick incantation, and his image split into two as his Duplicate manifested. Grimloch simply ran forward, his long strides quickly outpacing the others. The bright-spitters hissed and took to the air.

That was when Angelar fired.

Blue bolts of mana shot at the flying serpents, scattering them while Alex’s Wizard’s Hand flew among them, pulling at wings and tails, or patting their snouts to confuse and throw them off-balance.

They sprayed fire in all directions, forcing the four companions to turn away from the blinding flames. The elemental made a terrible grinding sound and began stomping toward Thundar.

One of the two minotaurs rushed at the creature, seeming to prepare to dive between its legs. The elemental ignored that one and swung its arm down at the second image of Thundar.

With a cry of surprise, the second minotaur dove to the side.

Bang!

The elemental’s fist smashed deep into the rock, kicking a cloud of stone and dust up from the crevice floor. Thundar stumbled through the cloud, coughing while his Illusory Duplicate disappeared. Alex balked. The creature could detect which was the real Thundar.

Which meant it had more capabilities than they thought, making it even more dangerous.

It was a good thing Thundar was quick on his hooves, otherwise—Baelin’s spell or not—there probably wouldn’t have been much left of him.

Angelar yipped and redoubled his pace, continuing to fire bolts at the swarm of snakes. One of the snakes broke free from the swarm, and swooped toward the canine beastman, firing its blinding breath.

The beastman yelped, shielding his eyes without stopping his run, all the while firing his spells. Alex’s Wizard’s Hand shot after the bright-spitter, grabbing its wing and shaking it off-balance until it spun out of its flight path and spiralled toward the ground.

His forceball shot at the rest, looping around and through them to agitate and distract. The snakes hissed and tried to bite it, but it was far too agile for their teeth to reach.

Good.

They were over halfway through the wide part of the crevice. The extraction point would be close, just a little farther and—

Crunch.

Rock tore from rock.

Alex glanced over his shoulder and gasped.

Like the small elemental that attacked him earlier, this monster tore a massive stone from the earth like it was drawing it out of a pool of water.

The elemental’s arm swung back and it turned its body toward the half-blind doberman beastman.

“Angelar!” Thundar shouted. “Duck!”

Angelar’s ears perked up.

Whoosh.

The boulder shot through the air just as Angelar ducked down.

Smash!

It missed him by a hair, crashing into the wall and exploding into a shower of shards.

A yelping scream tore through the air.

Stones the size of fists had sprayed the young wizard along his side, and a large one had struck his knee. A smaller one had hit the back of his head.

Crack!

Angelar tumbled, dazed, and crashed to the ground groaning and holding his leg.

“Oh, shit!” Alex shouted, skidding to a halt along with Thundar and Grimloch.

This was a tricky scenario. The flying stone injured Angelar enough to stun him and knock him down, but not enough to automatically activate Baelin’s spell.

The elemental stomped toward the fallen young wizard.

“Use the spell-mark!” Thundar roared. “Get out of there, Angelar!”

The beastman shook his head as though he was being swarmed by insects, showing no sign of knowing what was going on.

Alex’s mind raced.

Think. Adapt!

He looked at his two force spells, then at Thundar and Grimloch.

“I’ll distract it!” he shouted. “Grimloch, throw it off-balance like you said you could!”

“Yessss!” Grimloch roared, baring his teeth and rushing up behind the elemental.

Cursing, Thundar followed, spitting an incantation and slapping a hand on the back of the shark man. Silver-grey mana materialized around him, flowing into Grimloch and swelling his enormous muscles further. Thundar cast the spell again, strengthening his own body.

Alex shot Wizard’s Hand around the elemental just as it was closing in on Angelar, pressing it to the thing’s ‘face.’ For a moment, it didn’t even seem to notice. Then it stopped, made a grinding noise and reached to swipe it away. Alex made the force hand spring onto its fingers like a spider and begin harassing the elemental’s rocky body.

It swiped at its own form, then went still for a moment.

Grimloch and Thundar were almost on it.

Alex recalled how it seemed to know to ignore the illusionary copy of Thundar.

The minotaur realized the danger at the last second.

“Back! Back!” he shouted. “It knows we’re coming!”

Whoosh!

The elemental swung for the two beastmen, but while Thundar jumped back, Grimloch kept going, raising both hands with a growl as the armour of water and shadow swirled around him.

Bang!

Alex’s jaw fell open.

The shark man had caught the blow.

The watery armour had cushioned his form from the impact, and Thundar’s warning let him brace for it. With his colossal strength further enhanced by the minotaur’s magic, he stopped a blow that would have shattered a boulder.

“Mistake,” he snarled at the creature.

Then—still holding its arm—he pulled backward. Hard.

The elemental was dragged forward, stumbling as its feet tore away from the ground. Thundar didn’t hesitate. With it off-balance, the minotaur raced into its guard and wrapped both arms around one of its massive legs.

With a roar of effort that made Alex wince, Thundar lifted the creature’s leg, throwing off its centre of balance.

Whoosh.

Bang!

It crashed to the earth.

“Thundar!” Alex shouted. “Get Angelar!”

The minotaur raced for the fallen beastman.

Grimloch growled in surprise. The earth elemental had begun to sink into the stone… and was taking the shark man with it. Rock shimmered around its entire body as though it were water, which shimmered around Grimloch’s legs as well. The shark man was already halfway up to his calves in stone.

Mana was surging, and Alex detected a rush of magic flowing from the elemental’s body and down to the earth at Grimloch’s feet. Almost like a mana conductor…

“Grimloch!” Alex shouted. “Let go of his arm! That’s how he’s pulling you down!”

The shark man grunted and let go. His legs remained stuck in the path. He strained against it. Alex shot his forceball toward the ground at Grimloch’s feet.

Crash!

A crack appeared in the newly warped stone.

He drove it down again.

Crash!

A deeper crack formed. With a grunt, Grimloch tore his right leg free, but the elemental was righting itself—now halfway out of the stone. Alex drove Wizard’s Hand at it, harassing it to buy a few more heartbeats.

With another couple of impacts from the forceball, Grimloch pulled his left leg out. But having to move both force spells had left the bright-spitters unchecked. Rattling and hissing, they swarmed the shark man as he tried to sprint away from the earth elemental.

Alex targeted both spells at them, but a pair surged forward, spraying their fire breaths over Grimloch’s back.

Hssssss!

Some of the watery armour boiled away beneath the flame, scalding his flesh. Rather than scream, the shark man whirled with horrifying speed.

His jaws spread open.

Crunch!

The two snakes went limp, protruding halfway from his reddening teeth.

“Let’s go!” Alex shouted as Grimloch and Thundar—carrying Angelar—caught up, and they bolted around the corner and out of the pass.

Behind them, rattling, hissing and the flapping of bright-spitter wings, and the crushing footfalls of the elemental grew in intensity.

They were after them.

Chapter 5

Pack Tactics

The elemental’s footfalls thundered through the crevice, and the serpents’ flapping wings filled the air.

Though they were outpacing the massive rock monster, the bright-spitters were gaining.

They needed a diversion.

Alex called his forceball, spinning it along the ground, kicking up a dust cloud in their wake. He glanced back as the dust rose and obscured the passage. Good. Any cover was good cover.

The path wound around several corners and bends, eventually becoming another straightaway about a hundred and fifty paces long.

They were almost at their extraction point.

Alex pushed harder, glancing back now and then when, suddenly, a slew of serpents billowed over the side of the crevice, rattling in rage. As a horde, they flew straight for the fleeing classmates. Alex focused, sending his spells swirling into their wings and throwing them off-balance. Some careened into each other and smashed into the walls.

More heartbeats bought.

Every second the flame breathing snakes were delayed was a second scraped closer to the extraction point. As long as there weren’t any more snakes or elementa—

‘Wait…’ He concentrated on his hearing.

“Guys, where the hell’s the elemental?” he shouted.

Its grinding and pounding footfalls were silent.

Where could it—

Boom!

It burst through the cliff like a beast emerging from a waterfall.

The elemental had shadowed them, gliding through the stone instead of following the path. In each hand, it clutched a massive boulder ready to launch. A roar sounded, like the earth raging and breaking in half.

“Oh, hell! Incoming boulders!” Alex screamed.

“Zigzag!” Thundar shouted. “Don’t give it a clear line to fire in!”

Grimloch, Thundar and Alex zigzagged across the crevice floor in tandem.

Whooosh!

“Down!”

They ducked, stumbling forward as the boulders sailed past them, crashing into the earth and stirring up more dust clouds. Alex’s legs burned.

His forceball was skidding back and forth along the parched ground, and he caught glimpses through the billowing dust. The elemental was tearing up boulders to hurl, while bright-spitters were set to swoop in. With only Wizard’s Hand to slow them, it pulled one off-balance by the wing, but more were coming fast.

“Bright-spitters! Right behind us!” he yelled.

“Their mistake!” Grimloch snarled, skidding to a halt beside one of the boulders and driving a leg into the ground. He reached down to grab the rock. His enhanced muscles bulged as he heaved it from the earth, spun on his back leg, and hurled the boulder at their pursuers.

The rock crashed through the flying snakes, scattering them and soaring through the air until it collided with the top of the elemental’s ‘chest.’ It went reeling against the cliff face in an explosion of stone shards and dust.

Grimloch rushed the scattered snakes. Some tried to right themselves, but Wizard’s Hand grabbed their wings, plucking them from the air. The shark man’s massive hands closed around two of them and his jaws caught another two.

Crunch!

Four bright-spitters met their end.

Grimloch’s chest heaved as he dumped the pair into his thoroughly bloody jaws. His red gills seemed to pulse with every breath as he looked at Alex while loudly chewing and pointing at the elemental.

“They’re sunk. Let’s finish it!” he snapped.

Alex was surprised at again being thrust into the position of leader. He glanced at Angelar, who—though still recovering his senses in Thundar’s grip—bared his teeth and snarled at the elemental.

“Angelar, you up for this?” Alex asked.

The beastman growled. “That thing nearly killed me. I want some payback.”

The minotaur’s nostrils were flaring, blowing dust from his fur and snout.

“How much longer’s your body-strengthening going to last?” Alex asked.

“More than enough time,” Thundar said, his gaze levelled at the elemental.

Alex took a deep, steadying breath. On the one hand, the extraction point was close. On the other, they might have gained the advantage, and knowing Baelin, he’d expect them to press any advantage they had.

Plus, others might have to use the extraction point they were heading to.

“Forward, then.” He cracked his neck. “Let’s break this thing. If it starts to look like it’s overwhelming us, we retreat. Angelar, you blast it from back here where you’ll be safer. Thundar, you and Grimloch are on rock smashing duty. I’ll give you as much cover as I can. Fair?”

“Let’s do it.” Thundar set Angelar down and snorted, drawing his mace.

“Feeeeeeding freeeeenzy!” Grimloch roared without a moment’s hesitation. He grabbed another boulder and heaved it at the elemental before charging with Alex and Thundar close behind.

Whooosh! Bang!

The large stone smashed the elemental farther against the cliff, and a crack split along its torso. Angelar shouted his incantation and shot off a flurry of small mana bolts, hammering the crack.

Alex drove his forceball forward, and sent Wizard’s Hand toward the wall above the creature. Together, the spells smashed the wall in a flurry of blows, cracking the stone and dislodging rock and debris to pour down on it, obstructing its vision.

It swiped at the stone shower with rocky arms, and those few moments bought Grimloch the time to close the distance. He dropped his shoulder and drove it into the elemental’s core, smashing it harder against the wall. Then, he scooped up a massive slab of rock, and—using it like a club—began hammering its chest.

Thundar was there, driving his mace repeatedly into its torso.

It roared in its grinding voice and raised its arms to batter them. Grimloch smashed the limbs away.

The flanges of Thundar’s mace dented with each pounding shot, and cracks began spreading throughout the monster’s trunk. It shuddered at every blow, then roared, and abruptly sank into the stone. The companions froze.

Shoom!

A stone fist burst from the wall, driving into Grimloch’s face and sending the shark man stumbling back, spitting blood and teeth. The elemental’s other fist ruptured the wall, catching the minotaur on the chest and throwing him off his hooves. The two scrambled away, but the elemental’s limbs had retreated, disappearing back into the stone.

All four searched for any sign of their enemy.

Silence was all that met them.

Shoom!

A rocky fist burst up through the ground, smashing into Grimloch’s leg and sending the shark man sprawling. He roared, snapping at the air. “Sneaky little seal!”

“Do you see it?” Thundar looked at Angelar and Alex, who both shook their heads.

Alex glanced at the ground.

Mana had coursed through Grimloch and the elemental when it was trying to drag him into the ground. Alex couldn’t feel any magic when it was going through the earth by itself, but that could mean he hadn’t been listening well enough.

He took a deep, meditative breath and closed his eyes, sensing. The Mark honed his meditation techniques and decreased his other senses to focus on his ability to feel active mana. The spells coursing through Thundar and both of the beastmen became tangible… and there was another mana below them, swimming through the earth like a fish.

It took him a few heartbeats to sense its precise location.

And then…

“Thundar! Strike down to your right!” he shouted.

“Wha—?” he heard Thundar say.

“Now!”

Crunch!

The sound of the iron mace striking stone echoed. The elemental rumbled.

“Grimloch!” Alex shouted as he felt it move. “To your right! Now!”

Crunch!

Rock shattered, and this time, the elemental roared.

Now the mana was rising up fast.

“It’s coming up below you, Thundar! Look out!”

Alex opened his eyes to see the minotaur leap aside as the elemental surged up from beneath like a fish jumping from a lake. Its arms grabbed for Thundar, but he was already gone.

And Grimloch was charging in.

Boom!

The shark man tackled it to the ground and pushed his fingers into the large jagged crack in its body. His arms flexed as he began wrenching it wider and wider—until it was broader than a man’s head. Angelar’s mana bolts slammed into the crack, breaking it apart.

The elemental tried sinking back into the earth.

“Oh no you don’t!” Alex shouted, focusing on his forceball.

He gently slid the spell into the widening gap. “Hit it!” he shouted. “Use it as a wedge!”

Thundar raised his mace, and Grimloch his slab of rock, and slammed them onto the forceball. The force burst the spell, but not before shoving it deep inside, splitting it.

The earth elemental roared as the crack fanned out, spreading wider and wider until its trunk ruptured.

With a shudder, the massive stone creature collapsed, trickling into mounds of dust.

The four young men looked down at the remains of their enemy, then up at each other.

As one, four roars of victory rose into the air.

They materialized onto Baelin’s escarpment to find they weren’t the first ones there. More than half the class had already arrived, looking much worse for the wear.

“Thundar! Alex!” Isolde called, approaching them with quick steps. One of her shirt sleeves had been burned away, revealing a reddened, raw area on her arm and shoulder. “You’re safe, thank goodness!”

“Angelar!” Caramiyus rushed to them. A bandage had been wrapped around one of his forearms and Alex could smell some sort of ointment. The canine beastmen began communicating rapidly in a language that sounded like a series of yips, barks and whines.

Caramiyus raised Angelar’s arm over his shoulders and supported him in limping to one of the benches. Angelar paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder at Thundar.

“You saved my life,” he said, then turned his gaze to the rest of the group. “All of you did. Thank you. One day, I’ll return the favour, if I can.”

With a final nod to each other, he and Caramiyus limped away.

Svenia came to stand beside Isolde, wincing as she moved.

The rest of the class looked like they’d been put through a gauntlet. Most had bruises, cuts, burns or bite marks. Out of all of them, only Malcolm and his companion, Eyvinder, looked to be unscathed. Alex remembered the green-skinned man could control the earth using mana. This task would have been well-suited to his skills and powers.

He glanced at Grimloch, then grimaced at the gaps between some of his teeth. “Hey, buddy, I noticed you lost some teeth there. Sorry, that’s rough.”

“Why?” The shark man gave him what Alex supposed was a curious stare. “They’ll grow back in a few days.”

“…What?”

“They’ll… grow back? Why you looking at me like I got jellyfish on my face?”

“Your teeth grow back?”

“Yeah, don’t yours?”

Both of Alex’s eyebrows rose. “N-no.”

Grimloch was stunned. “Selachar teeth and those of my people grow back. How do you people even live?”

“You know, I’m starting to wonder that myself,” Alex grumbled.

Sharkfolk were cheating at life. Utterly cheating.

“Nua-Oge’s not here,” Grimloch growled, his black eyes scanning the crowd.

“No,” Isolde said. “And neither are Hogarth, Khalik and Theresa. There is no sign of the chancellor yet either.”

Alex’s stomach dropped.

“I hope they found each other,” he murmured.

If they hadn’t returned yet, it was likely they were having even more trouble than he and his group had. He considered what his chances of getting past the elemental alive would’ve been without Grimloch’s physical power, Thundar’s might and strengthening magic, and Angelar’s ranged support. Would’ve been slim to none.

He’d barely been able to handle a single bright-spitter. Granted, Khalik, Theresa, and Hogarth didn’t have a magical mark that stopped them from attacking directly, but one of those elementals would still be devastating to face all alone.

Maybe—

His mana senses sparked.

A familiar magic was coming.

The air shimmered in the middle of the group and all conversation stopped. Soon, the water and darkness encased form of Nua-Oge stumbled out of thin air, and immediately fell panting to her hands and knees. “Thank… thank Ek-u-Dari.”

“Nua-Oge!” Grimloch rushed to her side, helping her to her feet.

“Good for them, glad they’re both safe,” Thundar said.

“Mhm,” Alex said, trying to hide the stab of disappointment at not seeing Theresa or Khalik. He turned toward the south, peering at the horizon, but the crevices were too far for him to see anything from this distance.

The air shifted again and the familiar magic returned. It held far greater force this time.

Four spots shimmered in the air, revealing the forms of Baelin and the three missing students. Theresa and Khalik were supporting Hogarth, who had burns along his torso. Thankfully, they were alive.

Isolde, Alex, Thundar and Svenia gave cries of relief.

Svenia took the burden of Hogarth from the huntress and the prince, while Alex nearly tackle-hugged Theresa and Khalik. Theresa hugged him back, while Khalik simply gave an exhausted laugh. Thundar’s large hands clapped them on their shoulders.

Off to the side, Baelin wiped some ash from his robes. In one hand, he gripped the still form of a bright-spitter. Its body was frozen in a pose of attack, and its jaws were parted as though it were poised to bite or breathe fire.

Alex stared at it for a moment.

It had been turned to solid stone.

Baelin cheerfully waved the now-rock bright-spitter at the class. “A souvenir.” He looked at the group on the escarpment. “But I will not be the only one bearing a souvenir today. Well done!” he said enthusiastically. “In most years of teaching this course, this challenge usually sees one or two students injured gravely enough to activate the spell to bring them to safety. Though we have had some injuries this year, there have not been any that a few alchemical poultices and a trip to the infirmary shouldn’t easily resolve. Now, then…”

He snapped his fingers.

Alex started as his bag began to shudder, and the orb with the number “11” floated out. His classmates’ orbs emerged from bags and pouches to float before each of them as well.

They began to shine.

Crk.

The gleaming orbs cracked in the centre and opened like blossoms. Small pendants floated within each one; shaped like half-moons carved from a hard white material. A symbol was etched into each pendant, but it looked incomplete, as if split in two.

The orbs vanished while the half-pendants hung in the air until they grasped them.

Baelin gave his class a look of immense pride. “These are charm-pendants of apprenticeship: an ancient practice where master wizards would craft pendants for their apprentices to indicate they had passed their trials and tests, and were associated with their teachers. A fun fact for the historians among you: they were among one of the precursors to your student cards.” His goat-like eyes twinkled as he drew a bone necklace from deep within his robes.

Several charms and pendants hung from the chain: some were carved jewels, some were tiny metal figures, etched bone, and simple stones. He fingered through them like keys on a chain, and drew up a circular bone pendant similar to their own.

The symbol upon it resembled a drawing of a figure with bat-like wings. “This is the charm-pendant given to me by my own master when I was even younger than you… Which was, quite frankly, an embarrassingly long time ago. Nonetheless, it is a practice I do not like to see die out. What you currently hold is half of a charm associated with me. I provide them to all who progress this far in my class. Should you reach the end of COMB-1000, I shall present each of you with the other half.”

He chuckled. “A Proper Wizard walks a dangerous road, and often takes paths that prove unpleasant at the time: much like the crevices. But rewards can await those who undergo trials. At least, as long as you keep your wits about you, and have the tenacity, endurance and tactics to survive, even when alone. It is my hope that you will foster an association with each other, much as graduates of my classes have in the past. It is difficult to be alone on the path of wizardry, and a Proper Wizard can live a very long time. Make and cleave to your connections now, though at times, you may have to walk alone, for even the strongest tower is nothing without the ground beneath to support it.”

Alex soaked in Baelin’s words.

Support.

Not being alone.

He glanced at Shiani, who was holding her pendant and chatting excitedly with Rhea.

Hopefully, he could show Selina that she wasn’t alone, despite what life or the gods had granted her.

Chapter 6

Fire and Midterms

Baelin’s magic returned the class to the stadium. Alex spotted Shiani, Malcolm, and Rhea. He took a deep breath and was heading toward them when a hand touched his shoulder.

“You have an injury, I see,” Isolde said, her sharp blue eyes focused on him.

Alex glanced at the bright-spitter bite.

“’Tis but a scratch.” He shrugged.

“Well done, then… How do you do it, exactly, Alex? I…” an edge entered her voice. “…struggled today. And yet somehow you did not. How do you do it?’

“Uh, what do you mean?” he asked distractedly.

The class had begun to gather their supplies, getting ready to leave the stadium, and he didn’t want Shiani to go without asking her for advice. She might say no, but he had to try.

“You’re a first-year student.” Isolde watched him closely. “You know no combat spells and yet you’re performing incredibly well here. I am taking second-year mana manipulation and potions courses, yet word has been spreading about your performance even in them. And it is not often that one does so well that professors talk about them to upper year classes.”

Alex snorted, eyes still on Shiani. “Tell that to my force magic prof. He barely talks to me, let alone about me.”

“Still,” Isolde said. “I pride myself on performance as I did in the first-year levels for those subjects but—”

Shiani started to move.

“Isolde, could you hold that thought,” Alex said quickly.

A shadow passed across her face. “…Sure.”

“I’ll be right back.” He glanced at his other friends. “I’ll be back. I have to talk to Shiani for a minute.”

He jogged across the stadium. “Excuse me! Excuse me!” He waved at the three second-years.

They turned as he approached. “Shiani, right?” he asked, his eyes locking on the young, dark-haired woman. Her seashell necklace rattled against Baelin’s charm-necklace as she moved. “Can I ask you something?”

She froze up for a moment. “Um, yes?”

Malcolm grinned beside her and gave a knowing laugh, elbowing her in the side. Rhea chuckled, and Shiani shot both of them a quick glare.

“Listen, can I ask you about fire?” he asked.

Malcolm and Rhea’s amusement faded into disappointment, while Shiani appeared relieved. “Pardon? Fire?”

“Yeah, look, I know we hardly know each other, and this is kind of a strange thing to ask but…” He grappled for the right words. “I’ve seen you use fire spells in class a lot—as much as Rhea—but like…” Again, he stopped trying to find the right words. “…you’ve been gentle in class and… okay, look. It’s my sister.”

He launched into an explanation—only touching on the darker parts of the situation—and moved on to explaining how his sister received a fire affinity. Shiani’s eyes grew wider as his story continued.

“So yeah,” he said. “I know it’s a long shot, but I thought I’d ask. Like, I don’t think fire has to be a bad thing, but I don’t know how to really talk about that with her… But like, you’re kind and you use it. Maybe if I could tell her about you, or you could give me some ideas on what to say, or something. I know, this is very, very random.”

Shiani gave him a long, considerate stare when his torrent of words finally stopped. “I… I’m not sure what to say. That poor girl. My people actually worship fire, like they do in the Rhinean Empire—as they also do with the other elements. But we do have some that fear it. Our priests usually talk to them. Would a priest of your god be able to speak with her, I mean… I could tell you what I think, but I’m not sure if it will help…”

He fought to keep his face neutral when she mentioned talking to his own priests. “Uh, our god, Uldar, really doesn’t have much to do with fire, and the priests aren’t wizards. They could give like general help, but I was thinking—look, if this is too much pressure, I understand. I kind of did just ambush you with this. I gotta admit, I’m a bit desperate.”

“Hmmmm,” she thought carefully. “If… if you bring her to class one day, I could talk to her a little bit about… How would you call it in this language… ‘The Fire that Nurtures.’ It’s what we call the divine we find in flame. Or I could tell you about it, and then tell her.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Anything can help. I’d like to hear about it from you, and if I can get her to come one day, maybe you could talk to her? I won’t take too much of your time.”

“Alright, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Anything works.” He smiled brightly. “And seriously. Thank you for this. If there’s anything I can do for you, just ask.”

Shiani gave him a nod and quick smile, and then they parted ways.

He jogged back to where his friends were waiting for him.

Well, most of them.

“Where’s Isolde?” Alex asked.

“Baelin was teleporting the injured to the infirmary,” Khalik said. “She went with him.”

“Ah, okay,” Alex said, wondering what she’d wanted to say to him.

He had another thought.

Baelin.

Maybe he could talk to the chancellor about Selina. He must have witnessed so much in his long life that he’d likely seen something like this happen before. He might also be able to offer advice, if he wasn’t too busy.

That was another avenue to consider. In the meantime, he’d just have to do what he could to support his little sister. At the same time, he’d need to do some experimentation with the Mark.

Life would continue ticking on. As it always did.

Life had continued ticking on, surprisingly quickly. The next few days passed by in a blink and the deadline to apply to Shale’s Workshop was approaching.

Selina’s mood was improving over time, and—since he hadn’t talked to Shiani or Baelin yet, both had been very busy—he’d simply resolved to spend as much time with her as he could.

He didn’t push or insist that she talk about it—in some misguided attempt to help her. He still had no idea what wisdom he could use to help her overcome what she was going through.

He did, however, know what helped both of them after their parents died: time with people they cared about, showing them that they were loved. And he did just that. She was still clearly very sad, but she cried less as the days went on and she made less comments about disliking herself.

Whether that meant her opinion about herself was changing, or if she was simply not voicing it to make sure he wasn’t upset, he didn’t know.

He did know he’d be there for her when she needed him.

In the meantime, he’d progressed in other areas.

His mastery of Wizard’s Hand had started to grow at a pleasing rate, considering how much trouble it gave him before. He was starting to get fairly adept at modifying spell arrays, especially as he gained more experience with them, even in spite of the Mark interfering.

Studying Wizard’s Hand was even opening greater insight into forcedisk and forceball, and he’d been modifying them to make them even stronger. Using the two spells to support part of his weight while he’d climbed the crevice wall inspired him to try and take that a step further.

He’d seen forcedisks—or spells similar to forcedisk—that were able to carry someone’s full weight. He made having them be able to do that one of his next goals.

Another goal involved starting on the next spell in FORC-1550’s curriculum: Force Shield.

That had proved to be…

…not all that challenging. The structure of its spell array was much less complex than Wizard’s Hand’s and—after struggling with Wizard’s Hand for so long—he’d found it fairly easy by comparison.

He’d managed to conjure a crimson Force Shield—a concave force construct that floated around him and swung automatically to block incoming threats—in the dark of his room.

The triumphant cheering through the dead of the night had actually woken up his apartment mates. It was his first truly defensive spell. One that would keep him far safer in the Barrens, or when he had to deal with threats in the future.

His lab work for Professor Jules was also progressing well. The grad students found—to their surprise—that he often had the proper tools ready for the next step of the brewing process before they even asked.

Professor Jules was involving him more and more in the direct processes as well, and had finally handed him his letter of reference for Shale’s Workshop.

And that left mana manipulation.

He’d devoured the textbook back to front and front to back several times. Had learned how to activate all the glyphs on three boxes at once while maintaining Force Shield, Wizard’s Hand, and performing the mana regeneration technique on himself.

He was getting ahead of himself—he was still a first-year student with only a handful of spells under his belt after all—but he was feeling more powerful. Especially physically.

At the gymnasium, he’d begun to add exercises to train himself in climbing and sharpen his agility on his feet. There was an obstacle course—usually used by the Watchers of Roal—that he’d been using to teach himself how to move past obstacles and rough terrain at speed. To train strength and balance—and, he had to admit, ego boost a little—he’d begun doing handstand push-ups, using a wall for support.

He and Khalik would compete, and while the prince could perform more repetitions, he lost balance more often than Alex, who continued to use the Mark to correct his form. Thundar was content to simply watch their competitions.

“Listen, my people are like bulls, not squirrels,” he snorted. “Flip around and do all that fancy stuff without me.”

Of course, he never admitted that his reluctance might have had something to do with the fact that he’d tried it once, lost balance, and nearly broke a horn by tumbling onto his head.

Alex wasn’t stupid enough to suggest that might have been the real reason.

After them teaming up in the Barrens, Alex had extended an invite to Grimloch to join their group workouts, and though the shark man didn’t always come along, he pretty much obliterated them—and everyone else—each time he did.

‘There’s no accounting for natural talent,’ Alex had thought. ‘Or being a shark man that’s nearly ten feet tall.’

Still, despite the successes, a spectre of terror loomed over them all. One which threatened to steal the courage from even the mightiest heart.

Midterms.

“You know,” Thundar grumbled, “I think maybe choking the life out of my professor would be easier than studying from his lectures.”

Snap.

He closed his notebook for battle magic with a loud clack.

Alex and Khalik started.

“Shhhhh!” a student hissed from nearby, pointing to the ‘Be Quiet’ sign.

“Sorry,” Thundar muttered, looking around to see every student’s bloodshot eyes in the room glaring at him.

They’d come to the first level of the school library and had been lucky enough to grab a table before the entire floor became packed to the brim. First-years filled every seat—most of them looking like they’d hardly slept in days—and their clothes absolutely reeked of tea, coffee and stress.

“Ach, I should’ve taken potions instead,” Thundar whispered.

Khalik glanced at him. “Do you even have any interest in potions? I’ve heard it’s quite difficult.”

“Yeah, but at least I’d have big-brain over here to teach me.” He nodded to Alex.

Alex extended his hand toward the minotaur and tapped his empty palm. “You want the material conveyed? Then I got to be paid.”

“We went through life and death together.” Thundar held up his charm-necklace. “That makes us bonded.”

“We are bonded.” Alex smiled. “But bonds can be strengthened for the low, low price of—”

“You’re a terrible friend.”

“But I’d be a rich friend.”

He snorted. “Hey, maybe that Shiani or her friends could teach me. They’re in second year, so they’d know more. Come on, Alex, put in a word for me.”

Alex tapped his palm again. “Want a message to be conveyed? Then I got to be—”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Oooo, did you hear that, Khalik?” Alex drew away as though horrified. “He threatened my life. He’s an evil wizard. You must help me, oh mighty Hero, or he might turn me into a newt.”

“I swear I would have gotten more studying done outside of the library,” Khalik grumbled.

“Then you’d be abandoning your good, good friends.” Alex smirked. “Hey, speaking of the library.”

Alex jerked his head toward the sign near the front entrance—the one warning students not to bring open flame into the library. “What’s with that sign anyway? Who’d be dumb enough to bring fire into a place full of books, especially when there’s magic to light the place?”

Khalik glanced at the sign. “From the way my brother told it when he was here, some nasty senior duped a naive first-year into bringing a candle in here as part of a cruel joke.”

Alex blinked in surprise. That seemed so… juvenile, for a school of wizardry. Then again, he’d witnessed a student nearly kill himself by drinking quicksilver on a dare. All kinds, including bullies, were in all places, he supposed.

After all, bullies weren’t only named ‘McHarris.’

“Oooo,” Thundar winced. “What happened? Senior get in trouble?”

“Well…” Khalik set his book down. “The senior was nobility in his kingdom—the same kingdom the junior was from—so he assumed no one would reprimand him. But Generasi, though it respects those of rulership, does not bow to foreign kings. Threats were made, and in the end, both students were placed on academic probation and fined by the registrar.”

Alex gulped. The last person he would ever want to owe money to was a literal devil.

Though, in his unique situation, a devil would be healthier for him to be around than priests or gods.

“Alex!” someone whispered loudly from the front of the library.

Alex froze. He knew that voice.

Like a rusty gate creaking, he turned toward the voice and saw the short, bouncy form of Carey London enthusiastically waving at him, while her other arm clutched a sheaf of papers.

And beside her—also carrying sheaves of papers—with a friendly, open smile was…

His eyes widened.

Derek?

He could only stare as the unlikely duo approached his table.

“I was hoping I’d find a friendly face here. It’s so good to see you,” she whispered, though some students outright glared at her. “Here.”

She handed him a sheet of paper. “Try and make it out. We could really use the support.”

“Support?” he asked, his eyes darting back and forth between her and Derek. “Support for—” His eyes fell on the paper. “…Oh.”

There, at the top of the sheet, in big bold letters:

Campus for Uldar Rally: Ending the Ban on Priests from Campus!

Chapter 7

Challenge

“Uuuuuh,” Alex said unintelligently, continuing to stare slack-jawed at the paper, noting the details. The rally was being organized by Carey’s group, but there were other groups listed as contributors to the event: representative societies and organizations serving other deities. He hadn’t heard of many of them.

The date was set for three weeks from the current day. It was also set to take place at the school’s front gates.

“Is… is this sanctioned by the school?” Alex asked as Khalik and Thundar leaned over to see what he was reading.

“Of course not,” Carey whispered. “Which is why it’s sooo delightfully rebellious.”

“I-I see,” Alex murmured. “Huh.”

“Oh, come now, show a little more enthusiasm,” Carey chided. “If this works, we can end the separation between wizards and the divine. Think of it: how much could our people benefit if we had a union between our clergy and the brilliant minds and mighty powers here? And we need it. We need it.”

There was an insistence in Carey’s voice that gave Alex pause. “Why… did something happen?”

She nodded. “I’ve been talking to the priests, and they’re grim. The Heroes fight against the Ravener every day, but it’s growing more and more aggressive. For every dungeon core they break, it makes two more to take that one’s place. Every lord has mustered their bannermen, the king has called the court wizards to take part, and the church is calling back every priest for support. Many who tend the temple of Uldar in the city are already packing to go home.” She shook her head in distress. “Which leaves only a few to tend to the needs of an entire city and fundraise here. It’s terrible.”

Alex gulped. “And what about casualties?”

“Not many yet, thank Uldar,” she said. “We have to thank Alric’s Patron Saint for that. If it weren’t for her sanctum evacuating the people so quickly… But things will grow worse. The Ravener’s spawn are destroying the fields and villages—the harvest will be poor this year, and there will be many hungry mouths to feed during the fighting. And what if this gets drawn out? Our people are taking refuge in allied realms, but what if this goes on, and on, and on? Will they be welcome in two years? Five? Ten?”

She bit her lip. “This could be awful, Alex. And there’s still no trace of the Fool. Many think they might have already been killed.”

A stab of irrational guilt went through Alex, which he suppressed with great prejudice. Everything Carey said sounded awful, and it had the potential to get worse. But what was he going to do about it?

He’d only just figured out he could move things without the Mark suppressing him. Even if he wanted to go back, he would literally be less useful than a regular wizard. He thought about the dungeon core’s remains. He was making great progress with Professor Jules and he was sure—sooner rather than later—he’d get more freedom with his own projects.

Then he could contribute in his own way like he planned to. Besides, his sister came first and she needed him more than ever now. Even if he was slightly tempted to leave Generasi in some half-baked notion to join the Heroes, that would involve abandoning Selina at one of the most vulnerable times of her young life.

He couldn’t even imagine doing that.

For now, the information that there’d be less priests in the city was good news. Very good news. And if some thought the Fool might have been killed, that was also very good news. The idea of students pushing for priests to be allowed on campus however, was… well, it wasn’t likely to go anywhere. It would bring their attention to campus. Maybe make them bolder.

He’d need to watch for that.

“Well, hopefully the Fool’s alright,” he said with a straight face, then looked up at Derek. “Um—”

“Why am I doing this?” Derek finished for him with a wide smile. “Why, supporting a friend, of course. We of the Rhinean Empire have been long allied with Thameland, and we know tribulation too. When the elemental mountain of water erupted three centuries ago, our elemental knights had to fight water elementals within a cloud of mist that enveloped half the country. Your kingdom’s Chosen and Champion of that time came to our aid with a contingent of knights. We may not worship the same god, but I am a member of the aristocracy. It’s my duty to do what I can.”

It was incredible.

Despite keeping his voice at a whisper, Derek’s words were so sincere and his tone so unwavering, Alex could almost believe he was telling the truth. Almost.

“Derek and I have been talking after potions, and he wants to help.” She looked up at the young nobleman seriously, as though she were a priestess looking upon her flock.

Derek nodded. “I’ve made some mistakes in the past, but I’m taking what lessons I can, whether it be through divine intervention or wisdom of others. Like Carey, or maybe you, friend. Anyone that I—”

His eyes rose overtop Alex’s head.

Alex turned.

Isolde had emerged from the doorway to the lower floors. Her eyes had dark circles under them and her hair was dishevelled, barely kept in line by a tight ponytail. She carried a book bag that was filled to bursting, along with a forceball—one that glowed an electric blue—suspending a small basket beneath, big enough to carry one book.

Her eyes were focused on Derek, then fell to Alex, Thundar and Khalik, and then moved back to the young Rhinean nobleman. Isolde’s eyes went wide and her face washed red.

Alex glanced back to Derek just in time to see his facial expression growing neutral. If he had mouthed something or had given her a particular look, Alex had no idea.

Whatever the young man had done, though, it’d obviously pissed Isolde right off.

Her shoes thudded across the library floor—drawing eyes from the surrounding students—as she pushed through the library. Her forceball slowly lost ground beside her until she had to stop and wait for it to catch up. The entire time, she refused to look in Derek’s direction, abruptly leaving the library

Carey let out a sigh. “Hoooo, awwwwkward. Well, that soured the mood a tad, didn’t it? Here.” She drew out sheets of paper and handed them to both Khalik and Thundar. “Do stop by; we’d love to have all three of you. Well, I’ll catch up with you later, Alex. Ta-ta.”

With Derek in tow, she puttered off to harass the other students.

Alex watched them go, looking between the exit, Derek and Carey.

The star pupil, the devout student, and the avid cheater; a strange trio to be caught up in… whatever that might have been. Alex didn’t want to be involved, but he had the feeling he already was in some way. All three of those parties had some interest in him.

He’d need to have a good long talk with Isolde after all the craziness with midterms—she’d basically turned into a ghost outside of class time—and his application to Shale’s Workshop was over.

“Well,” Khalik said, picking up his textbook. “That was a waste of a study break. Back to it, I suppose.”

Thundar groaned and followed suit.

Alex did as well, opening his notebook to the notes on mana manipulation. While he was studying for midterms, he’d something much more important to prepare for.

Val’Rok had finally given him permission.

Tomorrow, he would Challenge the Exam for Credit for Mana Manipulation.

“Welcome, welcome!” Val’Rok greeted Alex from the doorway of a small classroom. “Just leave your bag by the door and come in.”

They were in one of the highest towers in all of Generasi. Daylight poured through the glass of the massive windows, though it wasn’t a cheery light.

The day was a rainy one, just like it had been when they’d first come to Generasi. Students moved quickly through the courtyard and across campus with umbrellas of waxed fabric, beneath spells that shielded them from the elements, or at a run with books clutched against themselves.

Alex had grown his Force Shield as large as he could and simply set it to hover above his head. It kept the rain away very nicely.

“Thank you, Professor,” he said, nervously shifting his bag off his shoulder.

Though the classroom was small—likely a seminar room for upper year or graduate students—it seemed enormous to Alex. Part of his mind told him not to worry. He knew the textbook for mana manipulation almost as well as he did Dexter’s General Alchemy of Potions and he knew Dexter’s almost as well as his own notebook by now.

Yet another part was all too aware that Val’Rok’s letter of recommendation was riding on this, and that made him jittery. Without that letter, he figured it’d be a lot harder to convince anyone to hire someone with his limited experience. There was also a sort of momentous nature to the exam.

He’d been writing tests for years at the church school in Alric. And this? This was his very first exam in university, his first exam that involved a magical subject, and one designed for students so advanced, they could skip an entire first-year course.

He would feel pretty stupid if—after all this build-up—he just outright failed.

“Alex?” Val’Rok leaned in close to him, widening one very large reptilian eye to stare at him from inches away.

Alex gasped, stepping backward.

“You alright?” the lizardman asked and—for a moment—Alex was sure he was about to start advancing menacingly on him. “You look as pale as a sheet. Don’t be nervous.” He smiled, revealing sharp teeth. “I wouldn’t have recommended you for this if I thought you couldn’t do it. To quote some of my students: ‘you got this.’”

“Uh, thanks, Professor.” Alex gave a weak smile. It was a little silly. He could keep his head enough to think and adapt strategies when dealing with monsters and imminent death, but the thought of an exam made part of him want to throw himself through the window?

‘You’re ridiculous, Alex,’ he mentally mocked himself.

“So, allow me to introduce you to your invigilator, Sinbrok,” Val’Rok gestured to an incredibly short man with a golden, braided beard and shaved head, sitting at the front of the room. The little man waved back, and Alex gasped.

There he was this morning admiring his own physical gains, but this fellow—despite maybe only coming up to his chest—had muscular arms thicker around than Alex’s thighs.

Alex’s pride deflated by the heartbeat.

“Sinbrok is my teaching assistant for MANA-1900, and he’ll be watching over you today—both for the written and practical portion—if you have any questions, you ask him unless the question is: ‘what’s the answer to this question?’” Val’Rok threw his head back in a high-pitched, giddy laugh. “Alright, let’s get you set up.”

First, the professor cast the same spell of dispelling magic on Alex that Professor Jules had, in case he’d brought in any magical effects that would allow him to cheat. Then, he pointed Alex to a desk in the middle of the empty classroom, directly across from Sinbrok. With a final few words of encouragement, he left Alex to it.

The dwarf student padded over to Alex’s desk and examined his supplies: one simple pen. “Right, you’ll have an hour and a half for the written test, and then an hour and a half for the practical.” The invigilator placed the exam booklet and a work-booklet beside it. “The first part is the multiple-choice portion and the second part is essay questions. When you’re finished, just raise your hand and we’ll move onto the practical. If you need to use the privy or get a glass of water or anything, let me know and I’ll escort you. There’s no need for any spellcasting during the written portion of the exam, so if I sense any mana or hear any incantations, that’ll be an immediate fail. Understand?”

“Yep.” Alex nodded.

“Right, then.” Sinbrok tromped up to the desk at the front of the class. He drew a large hourglass filled with blue powder from a bag that looked much too small to hold it, and pressed his hand over top. Alex felt a shift of mana, and the powder within shuddered then decreased in quantity as though some of it had been sucked away by a mana vacuum. “Hour and a half,” the dwarf said, flipping the hourglass. “Begin.”

Alex took a few deep, meditative breaths, acknowledging his own nerves and the raving in his mind, then detached from them.

He flipped the exam sheet open.

Chapter 8

A Mana Monster

First thing Alex did was carefully read over the entire written exam just in case there were any hidden instructions like in Jules’ lab-books. He sighed when there weren’t any and began.

The exam wasn’t going to be easy. If he’d tried taking it before studying as thoroughly as he had using the Mark, he might’ve been only able to answer one or maybe two questions with confidence.

Even having the textbook mostly memorized, he still found there were questions he wasn’t sure how to answer. As he felt now, though…

Crack.

He cracked his knuckles.

He was ready for most of it.

Alex tore into the exam with a vengeance, his pen almost flying across the pages. He didn’t really need to consult the Mark for most of it either. Whether for questions on the history of mana manipulation’s development, the exact process of different forms of manipulations, or a list of which common spells made use of the art, he was able to answer with the speed that he wrote his own name.

He skipped some of the harder questions in favour of answering the ones he knew the answers to. It made sense to get as many easy marks as he could quickly, and then go back and struggle with the more difficult ones later.

The last three questions were more obscure, and weren’t covered in material directly from the textbook. To answer those, he had to use reasoning and the knowledge he’d gained to make educated guesses. He tried the Mark, using it by writing down his answer repeatedly while thinking about the skill the question was testing. The images it brought up helped him narrow his answer, and focus on the parts that it presented as ‘successes.’

Unfortunately, since it used his own memories, it couldn’t add any information he didn’t already have or he hadn’t already experienced.

In the end, he finished, read over the exam one final time before nodding at it and raising his hand.

Sinbrok looked up from some other work he was marking, blinking in surprise. “Already?” He glanced at the hourglass, which had only shifted half its blue particles to the bottom bulb. “You’ve still got forty-five minutes.”

“I’m done. If I keep at it, I’m just going to be crossing out and rewriting the same answers.”

The dwarf shrugged. “Alright.” Sinbrok snapped his fingers and spoke a short incantation.

The exam booklet shuddered and slammed shut, sealing itself around the edges with a thin metal that flowed out of mid-air.

“Well, that’s one way to stop people from sneaking into an office and trying to change their answers,” Alex remarked.

“Yep.” Sinbrok grinned widely, revealing that some of his teeth had been replaced with prosthetics forged of a silvery metal; kind of similar to the metal now sealing the exam booklet. “If anyone tries to pry the seal open, the metal carries a spell that’s set to literally scream bloody murder like a frost giant running from a barbarian.” He laughed. “And if they run off thinking they got away, well, no such luck for the little cheat, because the metal copies their name and prints it across the exam book, revealing their crime and shame for all to see. So, anyone who tries changing their answers really doesn’t have a very good day,” Sinbrok finished, rather matter-of-factly.

He spoke another incantation.

And something strange happened.

Alex felt a very familiar surge of mana, and immediately knew a teleportation spell was being cast. His mana sense sharpened, and his eyes widened. Even from his distance from Sinbrok, he felt the mana of the spell so precisely, he could almost feel the shape of its magic circuit.

Unlike Baelin’s teleportation spell—which was so overwhelmingly powerful that all he registered was its might—this spell was simple enough that the magic circuit was far clearer. It was like the difference between staring into the sun and looking at a cheery fireplace.

Alex was amazed, until Sinbrok waved his hand in front of him. “Hello? You okay, there? Do you need a break?”

“No.” Alex blinked. “No, I’m fine.”

The magic circuit was gone from his senses so quick, he might’ve thought he imagined it if he didn’t look for his exam booklet to find it gone.

“Don’t you worry,” Sinbrok said. “I just teleported your exam to another teacher’s assistant for marking. Depending on how fast you go with the next part, it should be done by the end of the test, and I can give you your result in a jiffy.”

“Wait, really?” Alex asked.

In the church school, his teachers sometimes took several days, or even weeks to mark tests.

“Aye, we use a little magic to help speed up the process, and it’s only one exam. Now then.”

Sinbrok drew a clipboard and box from beside his desk. “Alright, for this one, you’ll be showing me your mana manipulation ability by way of a spell, by way of an internal manipulation, and by way of devices.”

The invigilator placed the box on the desk and took out a series of five rings, a pair of gloves covered in glyphs, and a strange object that looked like a series of small cubes put together in a jagged shape.

The dwarf wizard picked up one of the rings. “Which sustained spells do you know?”

“Forceball, forcedisk, Wizard’s Hand and Force Shield,” Alex said.

“Ah, I see someone’s taking Professor Ram’s course. Which one are you most comfortable with?”

“Forceball.”

“Right.”

Mana surged as Sinbrok channelled his magic into the rings one by one. Each grew until they were large enough for Alex to fit both his head and shoulders through the openings.

The wizard threw them into the air in different directions, and they abruptly stopped, floating above in separate parts of the room. “Alright, those rings are built to disrupt the mana connecting you to your spell. Your task is to fly your forceball through each of the rings while being disrupted. You’ll be timed on how many times you can complete the circuit within the time limit.”

“I see,” Alex said. “Alright, I’ll give it a go.”

Concentrating, he conjured his forceball.

It winked into being in front of them, shining brightly. “Tell me when.”

Sinbrok stared at the forceball for a moment. “That’s uh… that’s awfully large, and you’ve got a lot of mana in there.”

Alex shrugged. “I made a few modifications,” he said proudly. “There’s a reason why I’m most comfortable with this one.”

“Y-yeah,” Sinbrok said, pulling out a strange circular device.

He clicked a button on the side of it, and it opened up. A series of twelve tiny metal orbs floated in a column over it and began orbiting a central octahedron. “Alright, bring your ball into the centre of the room, and send it toward each ring that begins to glow. You will have three attempts.”

Alex ordered his forceball up to the middle of the room and waited, holding his breath.

The orbiting spheres froze around the central shape.

“Go!” Sinbrok clicked another button.

The spheres began to spin. One of the rings glowed with emerald green light.

Alex shot his forceball forward; he tensed as it passed through the ring… and then he burst out laughing.

As his spell entered the ring, there was a disruptive interference buffeting both his mana and his mind. It threatened to shatter his concentration and connection to the spell—just like the Mark did. Only, if the Mark’s interference was the equivalent to an entire war-party blowing their horns beside his ear in unison, then this interference was like someone peacefully playing a flute in the next room.

He barely even felt it.

At that point, it became a game as he guided his forceball through the rings, weaving through each of them as they glowed. In no time at all, he finished the course.

“Again?” he asked.

Sinbrok gaped up at him and clicked off the device. “Er, sure.”

Alex guided his spell through the course two more times, each time improving his time and generating an increasingly shocked reaction from Sinbrok.

“Ah… alright, then. That’s enough,” Sinbrok muttered after the third time. He squinted at his time-keeping device, noting the positions of the floating orbs. “Well burn my beard, I think you might’ve just gotten some kind of record.”

He busily scrawled down the results on the sheet on his clipboard, then slipped on the gloves. “Right, give me your hands.” He wiggled his gloved fingers at Alex. “These’ll let me feel the flow of your mana pool as you use Professor Val’Rok’s mana regeneration technique.”

Alex took the dwarf’s gloved hands. “Oh my, holding my hand already? And you haven’t even bought me lunch!”

Silence filled the room.

Sinbrok turned away and coughed.

“Just… uh…” Alex muttered. “Do me a favour and pretend I never said that.”

“Never said what?” the dwarf said. “Now let’s get this done.”

Alex watched the teacher’s assistant’s face as he adeptly moved his mana pool to massage all the pathways suggested by the technique simultaneously. By now, the movement was as easy as breathing for Alex.

Sinbrok whistled, letting go of Alex’s hands. “Alright then, no second try necessary.” He took up his clipboard and made a few more marks.

“Now, this is your final challenge.” He placed the strange shape in front of Alex. “Your job is to feel the pathways of mana within this device and return it to its natural configuration.”

At this point, Alex was almost giddy with excitement, and nearly twitching with eagerness to get at the device. Sinbrok sighed and handed it to him.

The device was clearly designed: mana manipulation would get it to change shape, but there was a specific, subtle pattern to its internal mana configuration that he’d need to figure out to have any hope of getting it into the correct shape. Thankfully, with how sensitive his mana senses were, the patterns were about as ‘subtle’ to him as an oak tree draped in a red dress, dancing along a hillside on its roots while singing Sigmus carols.

His mana shot into the device and traced out the correct configuration through all the cubes. Once he had that down, he realized he was supposed to activate one or two cubes at a time, sliding each around one by one until they locked into their correct places.

He would do one better than that.

Spreading his mana through every cube at once, he activated them all simultaneously.

Clkclkclklclkclkclk.

The device whirred and snapped as every cube rotated around each other. Its shape seemed to melt as the cubes swarmed and finally snapped into their proper places. The result: a large cube composed of smaller ones.

“By my fathers and mothers…” Sinbrok murmured, scrawling down the results on his sheet. “I can’t believe it. Are your parents wizards?”

Alex shook his head.

“Do they run a mana device shop?”

Alex shook his head, and a smile sprang across his lips.

“…Did a wizard take you as an apprentice when you were young?”

Alex shook his head, and this time, his smile turned just a bit proud. “Self-taught.”

Sinbrok blew out a breath. “Then I’m going to hate to see you by the time you graduate.” He wrote down the final results. “Alright, have a seat. When the exam book gets back, I’ll tell you what’s what.”

The two of them only had to wait for a little bit before Alex felt a familiar surge of mana. Magic circuitry formed in the air above the desk, then the book rematerialized in the middle of the circuit.

A new seal had been applied to it, which Sinbrok broke with a single word. He flipped it open and whistled, handing it to Alex, who took it with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Sending up a brief prayer to the Traveller, he glanced down at the top of the first page.

97%.

He had to fight the urge to scream in triumph.

“Well. Bloody. Done.” Sinbrok wrote down the last of his notes on the practical sheet. “So. You got full marks on the practical. Obviously, you’re a bloody mana monster. One hundred percent on the practical part of the Exam for Credit, can’t bloody believe it. I’ve seen third-years struggle with the Arrarubix Box more.”

He handed him the sheet. “I put some notes on there for Professor Val’Rok to read. I can’t put in bonus marks, but if anyone deserves them, you do. Welcome to the honours list, friend.”

“Honours list?” Alex asked.

“It’s a list we post in each department after midterms: it’s the top ten achievers in each level of our courses. It lets us—and the students—know who’s in line for an achievement.”

“Oh, cool!” Alex said. “Is there an Isolde Von Anmut on one of the lists?”

Sinbrok threw his head back and laughed. “Better question is which list is that name not on? Shame about potions, though.”

“Shame?”

“Aye. A little… technicality cost her a place on that list.”

Alex winced and wondered if that technicality was named ‘Derek Warren.’

“Anyway, enough gossip. Take your booklet and sheet to the professor’s office—down the hall and around the bend, past the double doors—he’ll get you your certificate of completion. Best of luck, and I hope we see you working with the department. Good mana manipulators are rare among wizards, and wizards in general are rare enough as it is. We could always use talent.”

Alex’s footsteps echoed through the halls as he half-marched, half-strutted to Val’Rok’s office. Even his forceball—carrying his bag—bounced in the air beside him, he was so happy.

This was it.

First exam done.

One course complete.

And his second letter of reference was coming.

If he didn’t have a terrible singing voice, he might have burst into song. His mind stilled. Well, he didn’t have to have a terrible singing voice if he didn’t want to, did he? Not anymore, at least.

He hummed, using the Mark to correct his vocal tones as he continued on. Alex came to a curve in the hall, where the double doors Sinbrok told him about were.

Except the doors were open.

Inside was a spacious office. Within that office was a writing desk with a familiar figure sitting at it.

“You were getting better,” Baelin said, his deep voice booming into the hall and startling Alex. “Why did you stop?”

A flush of embarrassment washed over Alex’s face. “Uh, hello, Cha—uh, Baelin.” He paused, considering the chance. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Why, certainly. These are my office hours after all. Come, keep a lonely old goat company.” The chancellor waved him into the room. His large eyes squinted at Alex as the young man stepped inside.

A flick of Baelin’s eyes toward the doorway caused both doors to shut with a creak. Luckily, Alex didn’t hear the sound of a bolt sliding.

“Hm.” The chancellor regarded him for a moment, then tented his fingers in front of him. “Interesting. Alex, could I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“…Have you ever been subject to a… magical event before? A catastrophe? A mana explosion?”

Alex grew uncomfortably still.

Perhaps he was imagining it, but it sure seemed like the chancellor was staring right at his shoulder.

Chapter 9

Growing Bonds

Alex fought to keep his face straight with Baelin’s hard expression trained on him from across his desk. In that moment, Alex was reminded of just how intimidating the chancellor was: towering, ancient, and with a gaze that seemed to cut through flesh, magic, stone and deception.

Could he detect the Mark? Was it because he touched the Traveller’s mana? Was it some residue of the dungeon core’s remains?

“No, not that I’m aware of… Why?” Alex asked, not daring to use the Mark to help him keep his expression still.

The chancellor’s eyes narrowed. “Now and then, there is… You know, never mind, that was a foolish question to ask. And a frightening one.”

“Oh that’s, uh, that’s no problem… Why did you ask?” Alex pushed.

“Sometimes… When I cast my teleportation magic on you… well, how do I say this. There are certain levels of difficulty when one teleports objects. Small things are easier to teleport than large ones, the inanimate is easier to teleport than the living, and the willing are much easier to teleport than those who resist the spell.”

His eyes lingered on Alex. “But you… you’re very easy to teleport, Alex. Quite frankly, I feel like I’m transporting something a quarter of your size. It made me curious as to whether or not you’ve ever been subjected to… unusual circumstances.”

‘Unusual circumstances? Take your pick,’ Alex thought.

For a long moment, he considered telling the chancellor everything right then and there. Considering Baelin’s dislike for gods and the priesthood—as well as Khalik’s story of how that foreign noble was punished by the school anyway, for his ‘prank,’ no matter whose son he was—he doubted the chancellor would feel obligated by some sort of divine duty to place him in the custody of the priests.

Then again, that very opposition to the gods could be the very thing that might make him boot Alex off campus. After all, he bore a divine brand and was directly chosen by a deity. Perhaps Baelin would consider him too connected to the gods to have a place in Generasi.

He hadn’t told Khalik, who he trusted, and he hardly knew much about the chancellor, aside from the fact that he was ancient and terrifying.

Better to be cautious.

If anything, having a conversation with him about Selina might help decide how much the ancient wizard could be trusted.

Alex shrugged. “Wizards go through ‘unusual circumstances’ all the time, don’t they?”

“Hm, they do at that,” Baelin nodded, rising from his desk. “So, what can I do for you?” He stepped toward one of the windows on the opposite end of the office.

Now that he had a moment where his mind wasn’t threatening to race out of control, Alex decided to take in the chancellor’s circular office. It was enormous—larger than Alex’s entire apartment in the insula—and filled with furniture and ornaments he imagined would be right at home in a king’s private chambers.

Khalik would know better than him.

The desk was carved with a multitude of glyphs, runes, hieroglyphs and scenes of wizards practicing magic or in battle with terrible creatures: demons, shoggoths, and things Alex didn’t recognize. The ceiling must have been thirty feet high, giving room for three floors, separated by a winding staircase. Several balconies were along the walls, all brimming with shelves that mostly contained books. Just below the ceiling floated a shimmering image of a globe, except far more lifelike; Alex thought there might be waves moving through the oceans in the image. Orbiting the globe was a pock-marked face of the moon, which actually shed a low, pale light as it passed small gargoyles mounted on the sides of a balcony.

Some shelves held strange objects, and whether they were magical materials, trophies or both, Alex had no idea.

On one shelf was the stone bright-spitter Baelin had petrified in the Barrens. Beside it was a tiny model of a castle, and below that—

Alex gasped.

The shelf was filled entirely with skulls.

Some were of small and medium-sized beasts, but several definitely looked to be from a similar race. They had been cleaned, bleached and inscribed with writing in an ancient language. Alex was becoming fairly adept in a number of languages: Rhinean and the language of the Selachar being the ones he was progressing fastest with. But he’d never seen any writing like that etched into those skulls.

“Ah, I see you have found my foes,” Baelin said with some satisfaction, following Alex’s gaze. “What you see there are the remains of the enemies that came closest to taking my life: assassins, monsters, enemy wizards… priests.”

He chuckled. “Try to guess which one belonged to a king.”

“Wh-what?” Alex started, his eyes darting between the chancellor and the skulls.

“You can’t, can you?” Baelin’s chuckle grew heartier, yet darker at the same time. “That’s the funny thing about kings, queens, emperors and empresses: once the crown’s off their head, their skull could belong to a peasant, couldn’t it? Now, come now, join me by the window.”

Alex glanced at the skulls, wondering if he should make an excuse and run from the office. Instead, he forced himself forward until he was beside Baelin at the window.

“So, what can I do for you… hm.” Baelin’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps… would this be about your sister?”

Alex wondered if Baelin had somehow read his mind.

‘No, no, Professor Jules said that was illegal here… Which I’m sure matters a lot to the ancient wizard who keeps a collection of his enemies’ skulls in his office,’ Alex’s mind screamed. ‘If you can hear this, Baelin, then know I’m currently imagining an oak in a red dress dancing on a hill on its roots!’

The chancellor’s expression didn’t change. Okay. So probably not mind reading.

“Y-yeah how did you know?” Alex asked.

“Mr. Powell informed me,” Baelin said. “I receive reports on all those tested for mana within the junior school. It’s good policy for me to know what the next generation of wizards might look like, and any sort of elemental affinity stands out.” The ancient wizard cocked his head slightly. “I was told—though not the details—that your sister had a… negative reaction to the revelation of her magic.”

Baelin frowned. “I find myself coming back to the same question: were you ever subject to a major magical event? A trauma, perhaps? …It is not uncommon.”

“What do you mean?”

Baelin sighed. “All those tales of wicked witches, sacrificing warlocks, and maniacal lich lords come from somewhere, Alex. Magic is power, and power can be a horror. Here at Generasi, we are dedicated to the advancement of wizardry and—to a lesser extent—magic in all its forms. Our students take an oath of responsibility that they do not damage the cause of magic upon their graduation, but… that is a very broad generalization. I have known of several students who decided the best way to apply their gifts was to use their power to become petty tyrants. In one particular case, a not so petty tyrant.”

His eyes turned to the window, watching as rain ran down the glass. A winged beast—easily the size of a horse—flew past the tower below, but it was too quick and the rain too heavy on the glass for Alex to make out its full shape.

“And that is not accounting for the many wizards that dot the world, all engaged in their own studies, experiments and conquests.” Baelin looked back to Alex. “So, yes. It is not uncommon to find those that have been scarred by magic, which is how traumas and superstitions are birthed. Is that the way with your sister?”

Alex shook his head. “No, it’s…” He grimaced.

It had been many years since he told the full story of his parents’ deaths to anyone; he’d recently had to share a small part of that with Shiani. It was starting to make him relive things he had gotten over.

Whether Baelin sensed this or not, he didn’t know, but he did raise a hand.

“Hold now. Perhaps…” He glanced at the skulls on his shelf. “…we should speak of this in more pleasant surroundings.”

Placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder, he focused.

Alex blinked and they weren’t in the office anymore.

Their surroundings had changed to the top of a tower. It was open to the air and surrounded by a parapet, with a wind-and-rain shield keeping the wet weather at bay. A round stone table stood in the middle of the tower—no, ‘stood’ was not the right word.

Neither the table nor chairs had any legs—they floated in stillness above the stones as though supported by invisible thread.

On the table were several copper platters that were absolutely bursting with food.

A giant cornucopia erupted with fresh fruit: grapes, apples, strawberries, and many other fruits Alex couldn’t name, spilled onto the platter beneath it. A four-layer cake stand was crowded with mini cakes and pies of half a hundred varieties, and several copper pots stood side by side, with steam rising from their spouts. They were surrounded by small—well, they were suited to Baelin’s size, so not so small—cups.

“And now you see where I take my lunches when I’m working. I’ve entertained many a student and professor here, just as the previous chancellor entertained me.” His voice took on a wistful note. “Now, tea? Coffee? Hot cider? Something else? Nothing too strong, I’m afraid. It’s still working hours for me.”

“Uh, I’ll take hot cider, thanks.”

Baelin waved a hand over the table, and one of the steaming pots floated into the air, then poured a golden, rich-smelling drink into one of the cups. Two chairs floated away from the table, and he and Baelin took a seat.

“Here, have a mango.” Baelin handed Alex a deep orange piece of fruit on a plate and—with a peeling and slicing motion of his hand—split it into spear-like pieces. “Have a bite, have a sip, and then tell me what happened with your sister… and you, I suppose.”

Alex nodded and took a sip, letting the sweetness and warmth of the cider fill him before taking a bite of the juicy mango. The fresh, tangy flavour of the soft fruit filled his mouth, and he found four more bites disappeared down his throat before he could begin the story.

“So… my—no, uh, our parents,” he began, then—with a deep breath—he launched into the story for a second time. Strangely enough, it was harder than it had been with Shiani.

Maybe that was because he had less on his mind now. When talking to Shiani, he’d been surrounded by other students and trying to think of how to ask her to help him. Now, though, it was just him, Baelin, a cup of hot cider and the rain.

He fought to not choke up, and managed to finish the story with only a slight tremble in his voice. As for Baelin, he listened quietly, only nodding along at certain points to show he was taking in every word. The ancient wizard winced at certain sections and gave a final sigh at the end.

“I see,” Baelin said. “I can see why a fire affinity would be… undesired.” He shook his head. “Magic can be fickle. Magic can be fickle.”

“Have you ever had anything like this come up before?” Alex asked.

“Oh my, yes. It is not affinity, but I do recall one student who was deathly afraid of heights, who had one of the greatest natural talents for flight magic I have ever seen. It was incredible, truly: most mages float around like kites, but this fellow could zoom about like a shooting star. Just incredible. This is a bit different, however. If true love existed, it would be like learning that one’s greatest enemy is destined to be their lover. Star-crossed indeed.”

“What do I do? I’ve been spending time with her, making her feel comfortable…” Alex shook his head. “I… ah, jeez, I’m bothering the chancellor of the greatest University of Wizardry in the world with this.”

Baelin cocked his head. “You mean, that you—my student—have come to me during my office hours—which I have set aside to help my students—with a problem that involves both academia, another student, and wizardry?”

He gave a deep chuckle that could have echoed from a mountain cave. “Were I to complain about this, then it might be time for me to find another profession. Or perhaps take my not-inconsiderable gifts, knowledge and power, and go live in luxury somewhere. It is no trouble. There is no problem.” He sat back, his penetrating stare seeming to come to a conclusion. “Alex… hmmm… I think that might be your issue here. A common one among wizards.”

Alex started. “What do you mean?”

“You are looking at this as a problem to solve: a spell to cast, a puzzle to crack. But this is no puzzle. Your little sister is a young human being with her own hopes, desires, willpower—and yes—disappointments. You cannot make her not despise herself or accept this gift. You cannot make her comfortable with it, any more than you could bring your parents back to life.”

“Is… Is that even possi—”

“Don’t,” Baelin said, all his comforting kindness evaporating in an instant.

“I… I’m sorry?”

“You were about to go down a very dangerous line of thought. Let that go.”

“W-what line of thought?”

“Resurrection,” Baelin said pointedly. “Every wizard, every priest, and every alchemist has thought of it, or dreamed of it, imagined it. There are ways to make ourselves immortal, and there are even more ways to make ourselves long-lived. So why not bring back the dead? And make no mistake, I don’t mean the potions, spells or miracles that can resuscitate someone if their heart has stopped beating for a time, and I don’t mean the necromantic raising of corpses or binding of spirits. I mean truly defeating death. A thing that is not currently possible. Even gods—thankfully—can die, and they have not found ways of reversing that.”

“What… what happens if someone tries?”

Baelin regarded him, almost as if he were studying Alex’s very soul. He got the impression the chancellor was weighing just how far Alex might go to find the answer on that dark path himself.

“Let us just say that if the gods are greedy for our worship and souls, then Death makes them look like the most generous of spirits. Once Death gets a good, tight grip on our souls, it readies them for its great work. And it does not take being cheated well. Again. Save yourself the trouble: look for ways to defeat death in this world. A Proper Wizard remains in this world; they do not try to crawl back—their soul scarred, damaged and half-mad from Death’s chastisement—to flop around in an attempt to unbreak what has already been broken. Perhaps, someday, we might uncover the magic to defeat death and… avoid the tragedies that have plagued you, your sister, myself and others. But for now, a Proper Wizard must know what they can and cannot do, and adapt within those limits.

“It is the same with your sister. If you want her to come to a healthy relationship with magic, you are already doing the right things. You said you are spending time with her, which means you are supporting her. You are a wizard yourself, which means you are normalizing magic to her. And… hmmm.”

He glanced at the steam rising from the pot. “Normally, I might suggest one of our professors of fire magic who could speak to her, but… no, someone young and friendly, like your classmate Shiani, is probably far less intimidating for a young child. Though, if you would like someone with experience to speak to her, I could have a chat with her after one of the lectures for COMB-1000. See if there is anything I could say.”

“Oh, that sounds good, Professor!” Alex said. “I’ll see if I can get her to come with me one day.”

Baelin grinned. “I’ll try to make the lecture fun, at least. Well, I hope your sister comes to terms with what has been granted to her. Remember, you can only control what support you give her, not how she thinks and feels about magic and herself.”

“I’ll try and keep that in mind, Baelin,” Alex said, standing. “Listen… we students—not sure if it’s my place to say, but… I’m glad you’re chancellor of the school. I think we’re in good hands.”

Baelin chuckled. “Trying to make me blush, are you, Alex? Well, it won’t work. Flatter me after you’ve fed me, instead of me feeding you.”

A twinkle entered Alex’s eye. “I just might do that.” He waved his papers in front of him. “Anyway, thanks for the talk. I should probably get going to deliver this to Professor Val’Rok.”

“Oh? An admirer’s letter?”

Alex burst out laughing. “No, I actually just finished passing the exam for credit for first-year mana manipulation. I just have to bring my answer sheet for him to stamp.”

Baelin’s eyes bored into Alex. A new interest had entered them.

“Really,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about that.”

Chapter 10

Chancellors, Ships and Priests

“Astounding,” Baelin said as he looked over Alex’s sheet. “Truly astounding. I am not as involved with the curricula for mana manipulation as Professor Val’Rok is, of course, but I know well it’s not an easy subject.”

He shifted the papers, looking next at Sinbrok’s notes for the practical exam. “My, my, look at this. These are some fairly devilish challenges, especially for a wizard with a lack of experience.”

His eyes focused on Alex again. “What did you say you worked in before you came to Generasi? In your story, you didn’t mention the sort of magical work or apprenticeships you did.”

“Uh,” Alex scratched the back of his head. “I was a baker’s apprentice.”

“I see.” Baelin nodded in thought. “And which spells did you know before your application or being recruited?”

“Just forceball,” Alex said.

“I see, I see.” The chancellor stroked his beard-braids. His bronze clasps tinkled as they came together. “That would explain some of it: if one could only practice a single spell controlled by mana manipulation, then that would definitely give one more experience with the skill than the average entrant. But this is something else. We have a fair many who Challenge Exams for Credit at Generasi, and a good deal succeed, but this is not a routine example of such a circumstance.”

He handed Alex the papers. “Those who pass such exams are usually experts, with plenty of experience or training in a certain subject before arriving at Generasi. For you to pass it—and quite nearly master it—with your level of previous training and experience is not common…”

Once again, Alex felt as though Baelin’s eyes were piercing right through him. “…Not common at all. It seems you have a natural talent for the subject, Alex.”

‘Well, that and a divinely granted boon that helps me learn it really damn fast,’ Alex mentally added. Despite himself, he watched Baelin closely for any sudden changes. No changes. Good. Still no mind reading. Probably.

“And your sister is granted a strong fire affinity. Interesting, truly interesting.” Baelin almost seemed to be performing mental calculations. “And you say your parents—may they rest well in Death’s embrace—were not wizards themselves?”

“Like I said, they ran an alehouse,” Alex said with a little force in his voice, almost defensive about that fact. They might not have been incredible spellcasters—ready to bend the forces of the cosmos to their will like Hobb said—but he didn’t want anyone looking down on them.

If Baelin did look down on them, though, he hid it well.

“Interesting. What about a grandfather or grandmother? Or anyone in your town: a hedge wizard or country witch to show you a thing or two?”

“No. I learned everything from a spell-guide in my church school’s library. Maybe that means there was a wizard in Alric at some point, but if there was, then not even our elders remember that time. Trust me, I asked.”

“I see. Entirely self-taught, then, and mastered the entire material of one of the most challenging first-year courses that is taught here. Fascinating.” Baelin’s eyes shimmered for a moment, fading and turning milky until it looked like he had gone blind.

Alex gasped and was about to say something, but by the time he opened his mouth, the chancellor’s eyes returned to normal. “Hm? Something the matter?” the ancient wizard asked.

“N-no. It just… never mind.”

“Well, then, I will be quite interested in watching your journey through your first year. Especially considering your performance in COMB-1000.”

“Oh, I’m, uh, doing well?”

“Hah, ‘I’m, uh, doing well?’ he asks. Let me put it this way: taking into account the adaptability and results you’ve shown during the practical portion of the class, if you even do moderately well on the written midterm… well, let’s just say you should come by my office and see a certain list posted to my door. I think you will be pleased by what you see.”

Alex thought on those lists Sinbrok mentioned, and felt a growing excitement.

“Please, make sure you keep in contact,” Baelin continued. “You know my office hours. I would appreciate it if you would join me for a hot drink again.”

Alex’s stomach flip-flopped. “Yes, I’d love that. A-as a matter of fact, since I’ve some skill in the baking department, I’ll definitely bring you some goodies next time.”

Baelin gave a hearty laugh. “Goodies, you say? Well, you know how to charm the elderly.”

“Well, you know how to charm your students.” Alex waved his hand over the empty mango plate and cider cup.

“Ah, careful with that phrasing.” The ancient wizard’s eyes twinkled. “You could get me sanctioned.”

As they laughed, Alex wondered if this was how merchants felt when one of the great lords of the realm strongly hinted they would be interested in doing business. One of his goals when coming to Generasi had been to be noticed for his talents so he wouldn’t ever be suspected of being the Fool, and it seemed he was succeeding quite nicely.

Here they were, having a good time like a young man who’d gone to see one of their village elders and had stayed for a cup of brew.

“You know, I don’t think they’d dare sanction you,” Alex joked. “I’m pretty sure you could blow up half the school if you really wanted to. I mean, who’s going to stop you? You could just teleport the castle into the depths of the ocean, couldn’t you? Like you did with that Hathar-Motkin guy?”

Baelin paused for a moment, and suddenly, his laughter went from a hearty chuckle to a roar of mirth that seemed to reach the sky.

Alex’s laugh caught a little.

Though the chancellor was laughing along with him, that mirth did not reach his goat-like eyes. They were still firmly on Alex.

Measuring. Calculating. Seeing.

Alex remembered the line of skulls on Baelin’s shelf in the room below.

‘This is not a village elder,’ his mind reminded him emphatically.

He shook the thought from his head. While he wasn’t sure if he could trust the chancellor completely, the beastman had been nothing but helpful and guiding, if maybe a little terrifying.

“There’s a thought.” A strange light entered Baelin’s eyes. “The professors here are incredibly talented, and some of the greatest wizards in the world hold associated offices here. Then there’s some truly frightening individuals in the Watchers of Roal and the city itself. Point being, there is a considerable amount of might gathered here. If I did choose to, say, try to teleport the entire castle to the depths of the ocean—which I’m not quite sure I could by myself, and even if I could, that would take quite a bit of time to set up—I just wonder how far I could get before someone managed to stop me. Hmmm, you’ve given me an interesting little mental problem to ponder. Thank you. This will occupy my evening, I think.”

Alex gave him a polite, tight, and frankly, frightened smile. “Y-you’re welcome.”

Staying around the chancellor might fray his nerves and make him twitchy. He’d need to do something to relax himself.

Well, he’d passed the exam. He’d be writing his midterms this week and finally going to see Captain Fan-Dor, since it was the last weekend they’d be in port. He could bring Selina with him, even Theresa and Brutus, since she’d enjoy being on the Red Siren and seeing the captain again.

That would get him started with learning the rest of the Dance and be a fine way to relax his nerves.

With Val’Rok’s letter coming shortly and Jules’ letter in hand, he could get his application into Shale’s as well.

“Stop, thief!” a voice cried bloody murder from street. “Help! Heeeeeeeelp!”

Alex stood frozen in the doorway of Shale’s Workshop, a hooded and cloaked figure speeding down the cobblestones with a bundle under his arm. Despite the hot sun and clear sky, their cloak hood was pulled down over their face.

Behind the thief, an older man wrung his hands and looked for help from the crowd. Several heads turned as the robber pushed people out of the way.

“Guard! Guard!” someone began to cry, while others levelled their hands toward the running figure.

One person in the crowd—a stocky grey-skinned woman—spat a single incantation. The figure stiffened in the middle of the street and crumpled to the ground. Above the murmurs of passers-by, Alex heard a loud snoring sound.

He remained for a time while the woman spoke with the man who’d been robbed, until the broad-shouldered guards—their breastplates shining and each marked with a glowing glyph—stormed in and dragged the thief to their feet.

Alex shook his head.

“The thrill of the big city,” he muttered, making his way back to where their sky-gondola was waiting.

It floated above the crowd across the street, and there was Selina, Theresa and Brutus, poking all five of their collective heads over the side of the gondola to get a better look at the commotion.

A blue bird was painted on the boat’s hull, which floated down to the crowd when Alex approached. Their gondolier—a young man named Kirk, with a smile permanently pasted to his face and utterly dead eyes—gave him a friendly nod.

“Hello, customer, and welcome back to Bluebird Sky-Gondolas, I hope my service today continues to please you!” His words had the same practiced cadence as Lucia’s, but his voice was filled with the same sort of false cheer McHarris had affected when talking to his customers.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Alex said, climbing aboard. He glanced at his sister. “Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she said, watching as the guards spoke to everyone involved in the incident. Her words were still short, but her voice had lost a lot of its flatness and her eyes were coming to life with interest again.

She still hadn’t built anything, which worried him. That was okay, though, as Baelin said. She was her own person and would heal in her own way. He just needed to be there to support and guide her. Him and Theresa.

As the boat lifted off, they settled in with their grinning gondolier as the city passed below.

“So,” Theresa said to Selina. “Are you excited to see Captain Fan-Dor again?”

Now some of the young girl’s normal excitement returned and she nodded quickly. “Mhm! Mhm! And Gel-Dor too. It’s just…” She paused and her face dipped a little. “Ships…”

“What is it, Selina?” Alex asked.

She leaned closer to Theresa and Alex. “Captain Fan-Dor said that fire is really, really bad on ships… Maybe he wouldn’t want me on there…”

“You don’t have to tell him anything you don’t want to tell him,” Theresa whispered. “Like how Alex doesn’t have to tell everyone he meets he’s a wizard or how I don’t have to tell everyone I meet that I like to go hunting. You can keep that to yourself, that’s okay.”

“But… that’s different. Maybe I’m… dangerous…” Selina whispered.

‘Support,’ Alex remembered.

He placed his hand on her small back. “Remember, I have to try really, really hard to cast magic. And you’ve seen how hard Khalik has to work at it too. As far as I know, you can’t really do magic by accident. I’ve never seen my friends from my and Theresa’s class use fire magic by accident. They always do it on purpose and when they have to. It’s safe. If you ever talk to them—”

He planted the seed, subtly.

“—you’ll see that they’re safe.”

She looked between Alex and Theresa carefully before nodding once more. “Okay, that makes sense.”

Before leaning back, Alex gave his little sister a tight hug and pulled away. Theresa gave her a hug too, and she looked much cheerier after. Brutus whined and licked her face.

“Hey!” She giggled.

Her mood improved immensely after that, and she was far more interested in watching and commenting on the city passing below as they drifted over the wall and toward the docks.

“There it is!” Selina said excitedly, pointing to a ship at the dock. “That’s the Red Siren!”

Alex smiled as he saw the familiar form of Fan-Dor’s vessel.

“You know.” Theresa scanned the entire port ‘town’ as they neared it. “I don’t see any sky-pier around here.”

Their gondolier’s tight, increasingly creepy smile shifted a little. “Well, that’s a bit of a story, you see—”

Alex gasped.

“What is it? What is it?” the gondolier asked. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no, go on, finish telling your story,” Alex said. “I thought I saw a shark fin.”

That was a lie, but what he did see was more cause for alarm.

Down below, standing by several docks, were the familiar white robes of Uldar’s priests, milling around in front of a ship.

It looked like they were seeing their fellows off.

Chapter 11

Pirate Tales and Dances

Even with the white-robed forms far off from their current position on the gondola, and a fair distance from Fan-Dor’s ship, they were still a little too close for comfort. Then an alarming thought hit Alex. Would Fan-Dor’s be one of the ships ferrying the priests away from Generasi?

Alex glanced around the dock.

He only noticed priests in one area.

Good. Unless some were hiding out on Fan-Dor’s ship, it looked like they were all congregated in front of a single vessel.

Theresa had followed Alex’s gaze and gone stiff. Selina was starting to look in that direction.

“Hey, Selina,” Alex said quickly. “Look at the lighthouse.” He pointed to the massive lighthouse rising far above the rest of the port, its top glowing with permanent magical light. “How old do you think it is?”

“Oh wow, it looks super old,” she said, immediately hyper-focused on the interesting piece of architecture.

Alex continued with the gondolier’s conversation. “So, yeah, what about that sky-pier, Kirk?”

“Oh, well, it’s a pretty complicated issue,” the gondolier said as he poled them closer to the docks. “The port is very old—one of the first places built in all of Generasi—and there isn’t much room for a lot of new construction down here, especially for something that needs the amount of clearance a sky-pier does. Bluebird Sky-Gondolas has tried to get a permit to buy a part of the land, tear down a couple of the older buildings, and build a sky-pier, but we’ve been blocked by zoning paperwork.”

“That’s very interesting,” Alex said, pointing to an open area before the buildings. “You can put us down there. So, who’s blocking you?”

“Right you are.” Kirk poled them down toward the clear area between the gates of Generasi and the port. “Generasi Sky-Gondolas. They have a lot of sway and we end up struggling with them instead of just being able to build the sky-pier.”

“What about all this space between the town gates and the port?”

The man’s dead eyes seemed to grow a bit dimmer even as his smile remained the same. “That’s where the Committee for the Beautification of Generasi comes in. They insist this area stays clear, and so, it stays clear.”

They started to land when an idea came to Alex.

He’d been thinking they’d need to slink around to avoid the priests, but there might be a simpler way. “Could you land us on a ship?”

“Why yes, as long as you have the captain’s permission.”

“Oh, I think he’ll be fine with it,” Alex said.

“Pirates! Get your swords; we’re being boarded!” Fan-Dor roared as the sky-gondola floated down to the deck of the Red Siren. “I want their heads mounted on the prow!”

Their sky-gondolier’s smile dropped and he screamed, startling Selina, who began to panic. Alex and Theresa scrambled to the side of the gondola as Brutus started howling among all the excitement.

“No, wait-wait-wait!” Alex shouted.

“It’s us, Captain!” Theresa cried. “Theresa, Alex, Selina and Brutus! We were the ones with the cerberus in the summer! It’s us! It’s—”

She noticed Captain Fan-Dor was roaring with laughter so hard, he was bent over the railing, pounding it with one of his meaty fists. For a brief moment—as his heart’s racing calmed—Alex imagined using his forceball to sink the Red Siren.

They landed with no other incident, though their gondolier was obviously relieved when Alex told him not to wait for them.

“Good, now you’ve scared them half to death,” Gel-Dor said sarcastically.

“It was a good joke!” Fan-Dor protested.

Brutus gave him a low growl from all three heads, seeming to sense Theresa’s earlier distress. The captain took a big step away from the cerberus.

“Jokes are only good when the people that are supposed to enjoy them aren’t dead from fright, brother.”

“Oh bah, you’re about as fun as a shark bite.” Fan-Dor waved him off dismissively, turning to Alex. “How are you all—Whoa! Well look at you…” He glanced between Alex and Selina. “Well, well, well, look how you two have grown.”

He stepped up to the small girl, and held up a hand just in front of her forehead. “When you first boarded the Siren, you were this high.” He wiggled his hand back and forth. “And now look at you.”

“I grew a whole inch!” Selina said proudly, standing her tallest.

“A whole inch! Well, well, well, we’ll have a giant on our hands before we know it!” Fan-Dor laughed.

For a brief instant, Alex’s mind returned to his plan of feeding Selina body-enhancement potions until she had grown into a giant. He shook the mad thought away as the captain approached him, looking him up and down. “Well, well, lookit you. When I last saw you, you were as skinny as a broomstick. Now what do I see? You got the beginnings of a sailor’s build, young Alex.”

Alex grinned, rolled up the sleeve of his left arm—not the side bearing the Mark—and flexed, drawing an eye roll from Selina and a whistle from Fan-Dor. He’d put on even more muscle in the past couple of weeks and it was burning through what little fat he used to carry.

His eyes flicked over to Theresa, to find her turning her head away.

A blush was creeping up her cheeks.

Alex enjoyed the resulting little flutter of pride.

“I thought you were going to a wizard school,” Gel-Dor said, cocking his head.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta have hobbies.” Alex shrugged.

“Right.” Fan-Dor glanced at Theresa. “And how have you been?”

“Fantastic,” she said. “I kind of love this city, I’m not going to lie. How have you all been?”

“Aaah, I can’t complain, can’t complain,” Fan-Dor said. “Your little reward helped us out quite a bit, Alex.”

“Oh?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, business got a bit bad there for a while when it got out we had another mana vampire stow aboard, but the gold from the reward kept us afloat… literally. We took on cargo for a time and went to some other ports. Less reputation at first, but I know how to build one quick. Got some good contracts for a bit… then came the pirates.”

“What? Pirates?” Selina blinked.

“Oh yeah. Seems like a bunch of ships started making their way to your homeland when news of that big monster of yours got out. Captains rushin’ in, looking to make a killing ferrying desperate people, and pirate captains looking to make a killing out of gutting those ferries.” He waved his hand. “There was some kind of business with a… portal cave? I think? That sound familiar to you?”

“Oh yes,” Theresa said, and Alex fought to keep a straight face.

“Anyway, so there was some business with that which meant no desperate passengers for ferries real fast, and only the ships that got there first got to make anything. So, the captains were left without much to do, and they were all in the same place. A hungry crew can make a captain face some hard decisions.”

He frowned. “The pirates started attacking them at the same time they turned on each other, looking for some kind of profit.”

“Oh, jeez,” Alex muttered.

“And then the pirates started spreading out, hitting ships in other waters. That’s when the Rhinean Empire and the Kingdom of Guadiana put up bounties. We took advantage of that and hunted a couple pirate ships.”

“Were-were any of you hurt?” Selina asked, wide-eyed.

“You can’t go into a scrap without expecting a bruise,” Gel-Dor said darkly.

Alex glanced around. Some of the crew members were unfamiliar to him, and some of the ones from when they’d ferried on the Red Siren were missing.

“Well, we made a tidy profit on the bounties and on selling the ships,” Fan-Dor laughed, and Alex noticed he and the crew were dressed far better than they had been the last time they’d met. “And now we’re back. Already have a contract or two. The folks around here’ll warm to us again, just like the sea warms when Ek-u-Dari shines the sun over it. So that’s what we’ve been up to. Now, come join us for some lunch, and then I think I owe you another Dance lesson.”

“Looking forward to it,” Alex said, glancing at the priests down the pier. “Do you, uh, have any other passengers, Captain? Will they be having lunch with us?”

“Got a couple to be ferried, but none are boarding until tonight.

“I see,” Alex said neutrally. He glanced again at the priests. To his luck, it looked like their ship was raising anchor and would be leaving soon. That meant they wouldn’t be coming close enough to sense him.

He would keep an eye out just in case, though.

“What?” Fan-Dor blinked a few times. “All the steps?”

“And every position and stance,” Alex said, giving the oar Captain Fan-Dor had handed him a twirl as he brought it up into first guard. “We can go into detail with whatever next parts of the Dance you want to teach me, but I want to try them all.”

The selachar scratched his chin. “Not sure if that’s the most useful idea in the world, Alex. A lot of this stuff’s really advanced—only taught after years of practice and some of the steps even I’m not great at.”

“I still want to try them,” Alex said enthusiastically. “Think of it like a preview for later, plus if I know where I’m eventually heading, it’ll help me with what I have to learn now.”

“Well, that doesn’t make too much sense to me, but no harm in showing you everything I know, I guess. You’ll mess up a lot, just to warn you, so no harm in it. But really, we’re going to go through them all quick and then focus on the next steps: we’ll need time and practice with those if you’ll have any hope of getting them right on your own. Then we can save the next steps for another time.”

“Hey, that makes sense. Repetition is the mother of learning, after all,” Alex said. “Just think of it as showing me everything and satisfying my curiosity before we get to the real learning.”

In truth, Alex was far more interested in Fan-Dor teaching him the beginnings of every movement than he was in the detailed lesson the captain planned for. The Mark couldn’t conjure knowledge from nothing, nor could it simply transfer skills into his head directly, but it could point out the successful parts of anything he tried.

Which meant that as long as he tried every step at least once, then the Mark would have something to build on when it came time to repeat it. The successes would build upon each other, and he would learn the skill—even without a teacher right there to help him. Of course, also having a teacher would be extra helpful and progress him faster, but he couldn’t rely on Fan-Dor always being in port to help him with every step.

By trying each move once, he could have the Mark guide him through the entirety of the Dance. Then, whenever Fan-Dor returned, he’d be a lot further along.

“Alright, you been practicing? Show me how you’re doing with what I’ve already taught you,” Fan-Dor said, raising his oar into the air.

Alex lifted his oar. His increased strength and practice had made Fan-Dor agree to ‘graduating’ him from a simple mop. He fell into the first stance then passed through the first step, the second stance and the first guard of the Dance with practiced grace.

Fan-Dor gaped. “What th—do that again!”

Again, Alex demonstrated the parts he’d been taught, moving like water through each movement.

“Well, well!” Fan-Dor laughed. “Snap my mast, you’re a damned natural! By Ek-u-Dari, just how much did you practice? You look like you’ve been doing those steps for years.”

“Enough. I practiced a lot.”

“Now I see why you wanted demonstrations of the whole thing! You’re going to be incredible at this when you’re ready to make your move on you know who!” He laughed and winked as Alex turned red.

With that, Fan-Dor jumped into demonstrating the other three stances, four positions of the feet, and four guards, letting him try each one. Alex couldn’t help but smile as they went through each movement. The advanced ones were more difficult for him, but he was doing a lot better than he had when he’d first started learning the Spear-and-Oar Dance months earlier.

The basic foundation he’d built would help him quickly learn the rest.

After that, Fan-Dor had excitedly called his brother over. “You gotta see this!”

The commotion brought over the rest of the crew, as well as Selina, Theresa and Brutus. All watched as Alex demonstrated the parts of the Dance he’d just learned, with growing skill.

“You just taught him that?” Gel-Dor whistled in surprise. “Well let’s get to the flourishes and basic jumps, then! This young man’s hungry; let’s feed him up!”

Alex laughed as they enthusiastically taught him the more advanced movements. They almost seemed to be competing with one another as to who could teach the steps the best and quickest.

He absorbed all of it like a sponge, though the flourishes and jumps were a fair bit harder. Thankfully—due to his practice on the obstacle course in the gymnasium—even these didn’t remain too difficult.

He’d come a long way from the stumbling, skinny young man who’d first tried to learn the Dance.

A surprise came when Theresa suddenly grabbed an oar. “Think you can teach two at the same time?” she asked.

The selachar twins only grinned and waved her over.

Chapter 12

A Fine Evening and Anxious Morning

“It’s too bad they can’t stay longer,” Selina said wistfully, waving at the ship as their little group stood on the quay.

“They’re off to do what they have to do… like hunting pirates.” Theresa’s eyes sparked as she said the words and waved at the ship with one hand, while patting one of Brutus’ heads with the other.

The massive cerberus panted contentedly. He’d spent the afternoon basking on the ship’s deck and gorging himself on fish-treats some of the crewmembers had tossed him. He’d even taken treats from Alex, and none of his heads eyed the young man suspiciously.

Operation Fetch was progressing quite nicely.

Hands down one of the most fun afternoons Alex had had in a while. It was thrilling learning the other parts of the Dance, and learning it with Theresa was an extra bonus. An extra, extra reward, was that staying so long on the Red Siren gave the priests’ ship plenty of time to set off on its voyage, and the few remaining priests of Uldar had departed back to the city a long time ago.

As for Theresa’s learning the Dance, his childhood friend hadn’t practiced any of it before, so he was more than a little smug that he’d exceeded her in doing something physical. For all of his own growth in strength and endurance, her growth in speed outpaced his. She seemed to run endlessly these days, and at speeds that were pretty stunning.

Still, her natural grace—which had bloomed since she’d started life enforcement—allowed her to do quite well with only one afternoon of practice.

Seeing her agility and hearing about her skill in armed combat, Fan-Dor taught her more stances, guards and steps than he’d taught Alex on his first lesson, and even showed her how to perform the first jump and flourish. Theresa was athletic, but watching her go through the jump had been something to see. A single twitch of her legs sent her high into the air, and she seemed to float when she came back down, landing in complete silence.

Fan-Dor and Gel-Dor were impressed, and the leering twins had pulled Alex aside like naughty children sharing a secret.

“When you master what we taught you today, boy,” Captain Fan-Dor elbowed him in the side with a knowing grin, “you should teach her what you know.”

“It’ll bring you closer,” Gel-Dor said more seriously, but a sparkle played in his jet-black eyes. “Think of it like a secret weapon.”

Alex had given them a strong thumbs-up at the time, and now smiled at the memory as he waved back at the waving figures of the crew.

“Alright, why don’t we grab some supper in the city and then head home?” he said as they turned away.

Heading back into Generasi—which struck Alex that he’d started thinking of it as ‘going home’—they caught another sky-gondola and returned to the part of the city closest to the school. He watched the passing streets below and smiled.

The abundant forms of priests standing in squares and crossroads, asking for donations to Thameland’s efforts against the Ravener had vanished. There were priests of other deities on the city’s roads, but even they faded, becoming less and less common the closer they got to the district next to the school. Soon, there were none to be seen at all.

Alex had the sky-gondola driver stop at a restaurant he’d spotted near the golem workshop. They consumed an excellent meal of wheat noodles in various shapes, smothered in thick sauces made with tomatoes, meat, cream or a combination of all three. On the side were baskets of bread dipped in garlic and butter, which was absolutely delicious, but also made their breaths an absolute nightmare.

Only Selina’s manners kept her from breathing on him while they were at the restaurant, but she immediately began to as soon as they’d left.

All in all, it was a great afternoon followed by an even better evening. As they travelled back to the university, Alex’s eyes traced the smoke lines rising from the city’s workshops, painting the sunset-orange skyline. His gaze fell on the squat structure of Shale’s Workshop, noticing something curious about the front of the building.

The door to the workshop—and the front doors of some of the other buildings—had been decorated with wreaths made up of dried grape vines and straw, surrounding wooden boards painted to look like monsters snarling.

He wondered what they were all about and hoped he’d be finding out soon. With luck, he might be coming to this section of the city a lot in the not-too-distant future, if his reference letters opened the door to Shale’s for him.

“Hey, Selina,” he said. “Would you like to do some clay sculpting when we get home? If you don’t want to, that’s okay too.”

Humming and in high spirits, she nodded vigorously. “I want to see if we can build the Red Siren.”

Theresa smiled. “I’m sure you can, Selina. Especially with Alex helping you.”

Alex smiled as well. It was progress. It was progress.

The waiting room was filled with candidates.

Alex—earliest to arrive—chewed his lip and shuffled sheets of paper between his hands. He tried not to look at anyone and just concentrated on taking in all of his surroundings at once by focusing on his senses. He focused on the smells of hot materials coming from within the golem workshop, not the smell of cold sweat from some of the other candidates.

He focused on the floor instead of the door that led to the room where the interviews were being held—waiting for it to swing open and his name called.

He focused on the sounds of the shop and street outside, and not the fact that one of the candidates who’d recently stepped out of the interview room was quietly weeping into their hands while waiting for a friend to finish their turn.

He focused on the weight of his body against the chair instead of the cold nerves rampaging through his belly.

He tried to keep calm, but already his leg was twitching.

The day for his interview had arrived.

An entire week passed since he’d dropped off his summary of skills and the two reference letters. The time had gone by fairly peacefully. Midterms flew by in a blink and—compared to Challenging the Exam for Credit in Mana Manipulation—they’d all been quite easy.

Well, except for FORC-1550.

He was sure he had done really well on the written portion—at this point, he could almost recite the content of his textbooks in his sleep—but the practical portion proved more of a struggle. He’d cast the required spells—forceball, forcedisk, and Wizard’s Hand—with extreme control and efficiency. The modifications he’d made even impressed the graduate student invigilating the test.

Unfortunately, he’d lost points in the speed department.

Even though he’d gotten much faster at acknowledging and letting go of the Mark’s interference, it still forced him to be very careful during spellcraft. Compared to the most proficient students in the class, he was slow.

That had been frustrating. Great marks on the written part of the exam, as well as on his other exams, but that one single problem aggravated him. He wasn’t giving up and was getting over it, though. He’d been talking with Val’Rok about a special project that would prepare him for the second-year mana manipulation class he’d be taking next semester.

Alex shook his head, hardly believing that half the semester was nearly over. Sometimes—when he woke up in his room in the insula—he’d be disoriented and wonder why he wasn’t in his room in the Lus’ inn. It was hard to believe that—a few short months ago—he was working for McHarris. Things were changing all the time, and time was marching on.

He had brought Selina to Baelin’s class during the week, and as promised, the chancellor taught a fun class about silly-looking monsters, complete with pictures, diagrams, and a cute taxidermied muupkara—with its mouth closed, thankfully. Baelin had spoken to her after class. Though Alex didn’t know what they’d talked about, Selina seemed a little more sure of herself after their conversation. She’d even taken to calling him “nice Mr. Chancellor Baelin.”

Soon, he planned on hosting another dinner party for his friends. This time, he’d invite Shiani—they’d already discussed and agreed on that. If the young fire wizard was introduced to Selina as one of his friends during a party at their home with food and laughter and fun, then Shiani’s words might be more comforting and better reach her in familiar surroundings, cushioned by a festive atmosphere.

That was the plan anyway.

He sighed.

If only someone was around right now to make him feel more comfortable.

He resisted the urge to look at the door again, and instead went through his papers without really focusing on them. The entire setup was alien to him. One really didn’t ‘interview’ for jobs in Alric. Usually, you just talked to a merchant, farmer, or business owner informally, shook hands or not, and the deed would be done.

This was far from informal, and Alex hoped he’d be ready for whatever this interview involved.

Creak.

Wood groaned as the door opened and Alex’s eyes flew up.

A young man—likely a Generasi student—was shuffling out of the room with a stack of papers in hand and looking so pale, it seemed he was about to be sick.

Alex gulped.

Was that nervousness? He hoped they hadn’t bullied him in there. The last thing he wanted was to come all the way to Generasi to work for another McHarris.

“Mr. Alex Roth!” Sim Shale called, looking around the room of candidates.

Alex let out a heavy breath, rose from his chair, smoothed his clothes—he’d worn his best doublet and trousers for this—and stepped into the room. If Sim recognized him from the tour, he gave no sign.

Sim shut the door behind him and latched it. “Have a seat right there.” He gestured to a single chair in the middle of the room.

Across from it rose a high desk—the kind some high-powered magistrate would sit behind—and at it were two people plus an empty chair. The person on the right was a large, bald man with green-grey skin and two short tusks jutting out from a heavy jaw.

The woman in the central seat was grey-skinned and—

Alex’s eyes widened.

—familiar.

She was the woman who’d used the sleep spell to catch the thief in the street outside the workshop. Now that he could see her closely, he noted there was quite the resemblance between her and Sim Shale.

‘That must be his mother,’ Alex thought. ‘Toraka Shale. Oh boy.’

He made his way to his seat, while the two interviewers scrawled notes on sheets of paper in front of them.

“Alex Roth?” Toraka said as her son made his way to the third seat.

“Yes,” he said, shifting in his seat.

She gave him an appraising look, then lifted two sheets of paper. Through the morning light beaming from the window, he saw the familiar seals of Val’Rok and Jules. Those were his reference letters.

“Welcome to my workshop, Mr. Roth.” She smiled, though the rocky angles of her face made the expression somewhat harsh. “Val’Rok Rathakan and Vernia Jules are my two close friends, so I take what they say quite seriously. But I have to admit, your summary letter’s a little light.”

Alex winced. This was starting off well.

“Probably wouldn’t have even called you for an interview if it weren’t for their recommendations… Their glowing recommendations.” Toraka shook her head as though in disbelief. “That’s a rare thing for both of them. Especially Val’Rok.”

Alex sat a little straighter, surprised. The quirky lizardman seemed easy-going enough in class. Then again, Alex had seen a lot of sour faces when the marks for Glyph Box came back.

“Well, uh.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad I impressed them.”

“Not an easy thing to do, but—” Toraka adjusted her papers. “You still need to impress me. Let’s start with the formalities. I’m Toraka Shale and I own this workshop; beside me is my son—Sim—and to my left—”

She gestured to the green man—an orc; they were not a race he’d seen until after arriving in Generasi.

“I’m Lagor,” his deep voice croaked out. “I’ll be the crafter you’ll be assisting if we hire you.” He reached beneath the desk and took out an object, rounded the desk and crossed the room. “Tell me everything you can about this.”

Alex put his papers on his lap and took the object handed to him.

His eyes widened.

“This is a golem core,” he said.

Chapter 13

The Interview

Alex had only ever seen a golem core once, and that was during the tour of Shale’s Workshop with Theresa. He couldn’t imagine how bad it would have looked if they handed him one and his immediate response was: ‘Duuuuh, what’s that?’

“Right, what else can you tell me about it?” Lagor asked, the orc crafter watching him closely.

“Well,” Alex said carefully, “I could tell you more if I had certain equipment.”

“Interesting. What equipment would you use?”

“A mana spectrometer would let me tell you about most of its magical constitution, and a manohmeter would give you a number for its magical conductivity,” Alex said, turning the object over in his hands.

The golem core was pyramid-shaped and surprisingly heavy. Now that he was able to actually examine one up close, he took the opportunity to inspect it as thoroughly as he could, comparing it to the dungeon core from the Cave of the Traveller.

Both were heavy, and though the golem core was not as large as the dungeon core, he’d put them both at similar density—though he couldn’t be sure without doing a proper analysis of them side by side. Smooth to the touch as well, with a similar sort of… feel.

He couldn’t quite place it, but there was an odd similarity between this object and the dungeon core he couldn’t voice. His mind returned to the day in the Traveller’s Sanctum, remembering well how the dungeon core felt when he was interacting with it and forced its mana to touch the Traveller’s—Ah.

That was it.

“It’s dead, isn’t it?” Alex said, looking up at Lagor just in time to see a surprised look cross his face. In a blink, the orc’s expression returned to neutral.

“What makes you say that?”

“It just feels that way,” Alex said. “I’m feeling no mana at all coming from it. Of course, I’d need to actually fully examine it with my mana senses to be sure, but right now, I’d say it feels dead.”

“That’s right,” Lagor said. “But why use the word ‘dead’?”

“Pardon?”

“Why not use the word ‘non-functioning’ or ‘broken’?”

“Hmmm…” Alex thought carefully on the question. The reason he used the word ‘dead’ was because the golem core felt so similar to the dungeon core, and he’d felt that the latter had been alive.

Since he couldn’t really say that, he needed to balance out what was close to his true feelings, with what would likely please his interviewers.

“Well, they’re something close to alive, right?” Alex said. “I mean, they don’t have a heart and lungs and a brain, but neither do earth elementals and they’re alive.”

‘Boy, are they ever alive,’ Alex thought—remembering how the massive elemental nearly tore apart his group in the Barrens.

“So, the word ‘dead’ feels right, though—like I said—it’s not quite the same.”

“I see,” Lagor said neutrally. “Let’s say it’s dead. What else can you tell me?”

“I’ll need to examine it through mana manipulation to be able to tell you more.”

“Fine. Do you need a mana conductor?” Lagor asked.

“No.” Alex had never touched a golem core before, but he had been able to use his mana to infiltrate, examine and control a dungeon core, and if they were as similar as he thought they were…

He sent his mana into the golem core and the sensation was incredibly familiar. Not quite the same, but familiar enough. Activating the Mark, it showed him his most successful moments of sending his mana into the dungeon core and guided him on how he’d done each.

That—combined with his improved mana manipulation skill—made the task simpler, even though he hadn’t had this specific experience before. In a few heartbeats, he’d passed his mana through the entirety of the core, completely feeling out its internal structure.

“Interesting,” Alex said. “There were…”

He again passed his mana back and forth through the core.

“…three spells built into the core—the core’s structure is complex—but there were at least three different magic circuits for spells also built into it. Separate, but still powered by the core’s mana. I can’t say what spells they were, though.

“Cause of death—or, I guess the malfunction that broke it, was a mana overload, I think. Some of the magic circuits have crumbled in places.”

He’d felt a similar degradation of magic circuits when he’d overloaded the fire-gem before Theresa used it to kill the hive-queen.

“I can’t really say why it happened, not without doing closer analysis… although—”

Pushing his mana through the inner pathways more slowly, he examined the internal parts and compared them to his own mana pool, as well as to the pathways within the different magical tools he’d used with mana manipulation.

“Huh,” he said.

“What is it?” Lagor asked.

Alex startled a little, and looked up to see the orc leaning closer to him. He glanced over and saw that Sim was leaning over the desk while Toraka wrote something down.

“So, this is going to be a guess here… Because—again—without proper analysis and consultation, I can’t say things for sure, but…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep, meditative breath, shutting out all his senses except for his mana sense. He noticed little ‘punctures’ in the walls of the core’s mana pathways—almost like areas where a soufflé had burst. Examining the pathways from both sides, he again compared them to the internal structures of his own body and the devices he’d used in his mana manipulation class. He also noticed some of the pathways were thinner than others.

It was in the thinner areas of the paths that the punctures occurred.

“The walls of these pathways are a little thin… here, here, and here,” he said, pointing to different sections of the pyramidal core. “That’s where the perforations are. Again, I’d need more tools to be sure, but it looks like that’s where the internal structure burst.”

“Huh, I see.” Lagor wrote something down. “Right, anything else you want to tell me?”

Alex thought back on the knowledge he’d gained from Professor Jules’ graduate students. “I can say this isn’t an evolving golem, probably. At the very least, there’s no chaos essence in here as far as I can tell—parts of it would be wavering slightly if there were; chaos essence doesn’t like to stay in one form. Judging by the number of pathways and the mana that should be channelling through them, this is probably the core to a clay golem.”

“I see.” Lagor continued to write. “And if you were to… guess what materials were used, what would you say?”

“Hmmmm.” Alex frowned at the core. “Well, that’s a bit of a tricky question. There’s a few different materials one can use to make golem cores that are fairly interchangeable. You can use molten copper as a conductor, but you can also use silver, gold, zinc and brass. Silver’s one of the best metals for use, though if you really want very high mana conductivity, orichalcum’s good, but pretty expensive.”

He turned it over. “If I were to guess, I think this probably uses mana-aged quartz; it’s fairly cheap, easy to work with and—with enough time infused with mana—is a fairly good conductor. Other materials—”

Alex fired off a list of possible materials, narrowing down what would likely be used by Shale’s Workshop, taking into consideration the area, price and accessibility. As Lagor nodded with his responses, he promised himself he’d bake the grad students an absolutely massive cake when this was all over.

“Right, right, right,” Lagor said.

“Do you think you could be more specific?” Toraka asked.

“Actually, no.” Alex shook his head. “Guessing would not be the best practice in alchemy, since it’s all about precision, and most golem workshops keep their exact recipes secret.”

“Hm.” Toraka wrote something else down.

“Right, I’ll take the core back now,” Lagor said.

Alex let out a sigh and rubbed his hands together, picking up his papers and holding them almost as if they were a protective shield. His mind was racing, trying to analyse his own answers and every minute aspect of his interviewers’ reactions to try and predict how he’d done.

He shook away those thoughts.

Don’t think. Adapt, but don’t overthink.

“Right.” Sim looked at Alex closely. “Your summary letter said you worked in a bakery before?”

“For roughly four years,” Alex confirmed. “I worked in a team, assisting the master baker.”

“Quite the jump in careers,” Sim said. “Why do you want to work in my mother’s workshop, specifically?”

‘Because you pay well and you’ll help me when it comes to analysing the nasty spawn from the monster that keeps putting my kingdom in peril,’ he stopped himself from saying.

Alex leaned forward, glancing at the notes he’d made about his experience in the bakery. “At my old job, we had good days and we had bad days—and bad days were usually all about breakdowns in the team.” He spread his hands. “We were kind of like parts of a machine, like the pathways in a golem core.” He gestured to the dead core sitting in front of Lagor. “Some of the pathways burst in that core, which killed it, and that killed the whole golem, I’d imagine.”

His eyes flicked to Lagor, and he noted the ever so slight nod.

“Same with a team. When the team breaks down, the entire machine breaks down and then the job doesn’t get done. When I toured the workshop with you, Sim—” He gambled on using the young man’s first name; Toraka’s son introduced himself by his first name, and using it would create familiarity.

Again, he noted the slight shift forward in Sim’s bodyweight.

“—I saw that everyone was working well as a team. Everyone pulled their weight, nobody rushed or scrambled around—which meant the entire team was organized and everything was the way it was supposed to be—and no one looked dejected.”

That he’d seen, at least.

“And if that’s what the team looks like on the average workday, then that means the shop’s well-organized and well-run. I also heard from Professors Val’Rok and Jules that the golems produced here are some of the strongest, most efficient, most astute at carrying out orders, and easiest to maintain in the entire city. That’s why you price them the way you do: you craft quality, and I want to be a part of that.”

Toraka’s pen was writing very quickly, as was Sim’s.

“Okay,” Sim said. “And if you’ve got a conflict on the team, what would you do?”

Alex thought back on Minervus, hoping the young man didn’t also get a job here. “I would try and work it out with whoever I was having a problem with and—if that didn’t work—I’d bring it to my supervisor so we could all work it out.”

The sound of three scratching pens filled the room.

“And do you have any questions for us?” Sim asked.

“Yes, actually.” Alex raised his sheets of paper. “What do you need a crafter’s assistant to show you that lets you know they’re succeeding at the job and actually being helpful in the workshop?”

Toraka looked between Sim and Lagor. “An assistant would have to follow orders, show initiative and work well within a team. They wouldn’t need to know everything—that’s the crafter’s job—but after the training period, they’d need to be a quick study and actually be able to assist the crafter. This isn’t school, this is golem-craft, and we need all hands to know what they’re doing. At the same time, we need people that don’t make this place hard to work in. I don’t employ machines, but a good attitude helps the whole process. What do you think, Lagor?”

“What you said,” Lagor agreed. “And I don’t want anyone thinking they’re going to try and impress me by doing a bunch of stuff that’s outside of procedure. Innovation’s not like it is in the books and plays. It takes time and sometimes years of small steps.”

“Got it.” Alex wrote down their answer word-for-word. “Another question: is there opportunity for advancement?”

“Yes, there technically is,” Toraka said. “If you’ve got talent, pick up enough experience and show that we can trust you, we’ll get you where you need to be in the workshop.”

“Right, right, and you said there was a training period?”

“Two weeks,” Lagor said.

Alex circled that answer. “I see. That’s all I got, then.”

“Perfect,” Toraka rose, picking up a sheaf of papers. “Then the last thing is a short, written test, and that’ll be it. Mark it with your name and leave it with the front desk when you’re finished, and we’ll go from there. Thank you for coming in.”

“Alrighty then.” Alex stood, fighting down his rising nerves. “Thanks for the opportunity.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Alex started, nearly ruining the notes he was making on Orb of Air in the evening light bleeding through the slats of his window shutters. “Selina?” he called.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Selina was grumbling over a problem she was having while doing her homework in the kitchen, and he hadn’t heard Theresa return from practicing with the Watchers of Roal yet.

“Brutus?” he asked.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He realized it was coming from the window. “N-Najyah?”

Alex tiptoed to the window and slowly opened it.

He gasped as a massive golden dragonfly flew into the room, its wings making a metallic buzzing noise. It landed on his desk and rotated toward him. Attached to its tail was a letter bearing the seal of Shale’s Workshop.

With a low cry, Alex charged across the room and tore the letter open, eagerly scanning its contents. His eyes froze on the final lines:

—start as soon as possible. Please write a return note stating whether you accept or reject the position and attach it to the messenger golem’s tail. Looking forward to working with you. – Lagor

“Yeeeessss!” Alex cried, pumping his fists.

A huge weight lifted off his shoulders.

He now had an income and was a step closer to being able to properly analyse the dungeon core’s remains, and build his very own golem. Luckily, there had been a lot of candidates who’d applied.

The likelihood that Minervus would have gotten hired would be slim to none.

‘Oh, cooome ooooon!’ Alex mentally screamed as he stepped into the workshop on his first day.

“Oh, Alex, you’re here,” Lagor said, nodding in approval. “The first of our new assistants just arrived. Alex, meet Minervus. Minervus, this is Alex.”

Minervus stared at Alex for a long moment, and then his pale and narrow face slowly grew a painfully forced polite smile. “H-hello,” he said in a strained voice.

Chapter 14

Honours

Alex Roth had long built up a tolerance for—as he called it—‘people’s bullshit.’

Back in Alric he never would’ve survived close to four years in McHarris’ bakery without building that sort of tolerance. He’d have mouthed off, quit, or done something worse back when he still needed the job. That tolerance let him get through his entire time at the bakery, waiting until the opportunity for sweet, sweet revenge was right.

With others, that tolerance just let him get through the day-to-day annoyances of life: nosey neighbours, annoying students at church school, arrogant teachers and others one just had to tolerate if they didn’t want to make too much trouble in their social life. Recently, that extended to ‘well-meaning, but overly zealous potions-lab classmates’ and ‘cheaters he didn’t trust as far as Selina could throw them.’

Unfortunately, he had a feeling he’d be calling on that tolerance a lot at the workshop. Like, a lot.

He glanced at Minervus, who was following Lagor around as though he were a content puppy, while the orc crafter gave the tour to his three new assistants.

The pale, thin-faced young man had undergone a shocking transformation. In Baelin’s first class, he’d been utterly self-focused and quite forward about it. In the second class—when it was clear he had no allies—he tried to rip apart the others’ teamwork to get Rayne to join him.

There was no trace of that young man to be seen today.

That wasn’t to say Minervus had suddenly become some happy, open, friendly fellow. But when he spoke, his tone toward Lagor was respectful—unlike when he’d lashed out at Baelin—and seemed every inch a team player. He even asked the right questions about different areas of the workshop.

“And here.” Lagor opened a storage room. “This is where we keep the tools used for sculpting the attachment point between a golem’s core and its body.”

He gestured within the darkened space and ran his hand over a glyph on the wall. The chamber was suddenly lit by several forceballs glowing in different colours. Mana tools and devices hung from every inch of wall, organized by their kind and function. Where Professor Jules’ tools were finer and more delicate for use in her lab, these were robust. Each looked sturdy, like they could take the day-to-day rigours of constant use without getting damaged.

Thanks to his work with Jules and her grad students, Alex knew the function of many of them. Lagor pointed at several battered, truly massive bricks of books laid out on tables in front of where the tools were stored.

“Those printed manuals identify the safety procedures and use for every tool in this room. You’ll use this shift and the next two to familiarize yourself with every one of them. You won’t need to know how to use all of them, but you’ll need to know what tools I’ll need and be able to use the simpler ones yourselves. Got it?”

“Yes,” said the third assistant, Carmen, a woman that was perhaps ten years older than Minervus or Alex. “Um, Lagor, I’ve used all of these tools at the workshop where I worked previously. Do I need to go through the manual?”

“Oh absolutely,” Lagor said. “Everybody does. Some ten years ago, I got an assistant from Illiavitch Royal Golem Crafters, from Rostovom far to the Northeast.”

Alex had heard of that country—a place where the winters were long, brutal and hungry.

“He knew his way around a shop. You could see his experience, so—because I had less experience, I let him do his thing. Turns out the wizards of Rostovom use a different measuring system for almost everything. Lad put too much saltpeter in the first binding stage and, well, let’s just say if a healer hadn’t gotten to me fast, I wouldn’t be here talking to you now.”

He gestured back to the books. “The official policy is everyone reads the procedures and manuals, and then everyone is tested on the safety procedures. You’ll be supervised by other assistants during your first couple weeks here. We don’t take chances like that anymore.”

“Oh, jeez,” Alex said. “What happened to the assistant from Rostovom?”

“Death and the gods watch over him now.”

“Oh.” Alex winced.

“I’ll make sure to review the procedures very carefully,” Minervus jumped in, wiping some condensation that had begun to form in the lenses of his mask. “Might we also study the procedures on our own time? If there are books available.”

Lagor glanced at him. “Yeah, that’s fine, as long as you check it out with me at the end of your shift and bring it back during the next.”

“Of course,” Minervus said.

‘Showing initiative,’ Alex thought. ‘Appealing to your bosses. Smart.’

What was troubling Alex about Minervus was how completely different he was acting here in Shale’s than he had outside in the street and during COMB-1000. And Alex had a feeling that the more cooperative side he was showing now—and that he’d probably shown in the interview—was a mask used to increase his favour now that things were non-competitive and comfortable.

Alex had seen what happened when he thought he had nothing to lose, could literally fly ahead of others or wanted to eliminate competition. Minervus glanced Alex’s way.

His eyes narrowed slightly through the lenses of his mask.

They didn’t hold outright malice at the moment, but they were guarded.

Alex thought about that possibility for advancement. If there was only one opportunity and three assistants, then what would Minervus do? The area between Alex’s shoulder blades tensed, like it was wary of a dagger poised to strike.

Unfortunately—as they tour went on—Alex realized there was a reason why Minervus had gotten the job.

Alex paid as much attention to Lagor, Carmen and Minervus through the tour as he did to Lagor’s lecture on their responsibilities, tools, areas of work and frequency of pay. He learned several things.

For one, Minervus was surprisingly competent in the area of golems. When he asked questions, they would be of an advanced nature, often focusing on processes involved with the construction of more specialized or advanced golems. He seemed to have a handle of the basics of golem-craft as well, though he did mention he’d never constructed a golem himself.

His insights into the rendering of flesh, moulding of skin and recomposition of fat on bone to craft flesh golems… made Alex a little sick. Lagor definitely leaned in with interest as Minervus brought up these topics over their evening break.

Carmen was hands down the most experienced, and she did not so much ask questions as she did ‘talk shop’ with Lagor as though she’d been working at Shale’s for years. From her friendly, professional demeanour, it was clear she would be a good member of the team at least.

That left Alex. He was the most inexperienced, and was drinking in every last detail of Lagor’s explanations and the tools they’d be expected to use. He’d use the Mark to its full capacity to leap ahead in skill as much as he could.

Eventually, Lagor left his new assistants to their own devices while he went to work with the crafter’s assistants that currently aided him—one was being promoted, while two were students at Generasi finishing their studies to return to their homelands. That left Minervus, Carmen and Alex to start going through the procedures manuals. With his reading ability tightly honed by the Mark, Alex whipped through the manuals at noteworthy speed, all the while taking notes in a notebook he’d brought along.

He noticed Minervus glancing his way from time to time, but the narrow-faced young man’s expression had become unreadable. He was the first to depart as their first shift ended, and disappeared into the night with one of the procedures manuals in hand.

When Alex left shortly after him, he marched into the silent street—Shale’s was one of the only businesses that worked into the night—and took a long look around in case any flesh golems were hiding in the shadows, ready to jump out and break his legs.

He shook the fantasy out of his head. It was irrational, yet something about Minervus gave off a high creepiness factor.

As he made his way home, he noticed several other shops and restaurants that were open late into the night—lit by light from forceballs and other spells. By now, Alric would have been as quiet as a tomb.

“Guess that’s what can happen at night when you get light for free,” Alex said—his voice loud at first, then dropping to a quiet whisper as it echoed through the quiet night.

Luckily, he was able to hail a sky-gondola without incident and make his way back to campus. The journey home to the insula was peaceful, and he spent as much time looking up at the stars and the lights still burning in some windows of the main castle as he did watching the path ahead. Some areas on the grass were illuminated by students travelling by way of magical light.

One carried a long lantern on a staff over their shoulder, and Alex was sure he saw a sprite sleeping inside the lantern, giving off a magical glow. In the distance thrummed the lilt of pipes, drums, lutes and other instruments, as well as the noise of rowdy voices. With midterms done, half the campus was out celebrating in force.

He could understand why.

Tomorrow was when the honours lists were set to come out.

For many students, it would mean whether or not they were in line for achievement or getting trampled by others when it came time to seek future opportunities.

He took a deep breath, thinking about what Baelin and Sinbrok said.

With any hope, he’d likely see his name on a few lists.

In the morning, he’d get up first thing and go to the registrar’s desk—where the school would post all the honours lists on a massive central board.

That meant braving Hobb.

And it meant he might see Isolde as well.

Hopefully, she’d be in a better mood now that exams were done.

“Gods damn it all!” a student roared in front of the board, ripping off his tall, conical hat and stomping on it. “I had it! I know I had it! There’s got to be a mistake!”

He was just one among a massive sea of students that crowded up to the board as soon as it had been revealed. The area in front of the registrar’s office was filled to bursting—especially with first-years—though some students arrived, took one look at the massive line-up, and decided to either return later, or check one of the individual lists in the specific department.

“There’s a mistake! I know I aced that midterm!” the student roared—breaking down into angry tears—and the hall was falling into an uneasy silence.

Alex shared uncomfortable looks with Khalik and Thundar, and then with Theresa waiting close by with Shishi. Shishi was there to see if her own efforts landed her on the honours list. Khalik was there to see how he’d done as well, while Thundar said there was only one class that he ‘stood a chance’ in.

It might take a while until they got a chance to see their results, though. The irate student’s rage only continued to build, until he looked liable to tear down the lists.

“Ahem!” a familiar voice cut through the student’s outburst. “Young fellow, might I ask that you take your temper tantrum elsewhere?”

“Who, who said tha—” The student looked up from stomping on his hat, red-faced and ready for a fight, then froze.

Standing beside the board—in a space Alex was sure had been empty before he blinked—was Hobb, who was casually polishing his massive monocle with a handkerchief. The cloth was patterned with embroidered gold coins. Alex couldn’t be sure from this distance, but he could have sworn the faces sewn into each coin were winking.

“Tut, tut.” Hobb clicked his tongue as he placed the monocle back onto his face. “Wizards have come here to learn how to bend the forces of the cosmos to their unbreakable will, and instead of bringing demons or learning to call meteors from the sky, you’re here having a temper tantrum like a child.” Hobb glanced down critically. “And ruining a perfectly good hat while you’re at it.”

The student grew bolder, rising up to his full height. Physically, he was taller than the blue-skinned devil, but to Alex, he seemed much, much smaller. “Was there a misprint? This can’t be right.”

“Aaaaah, if only I had a coin for every time I heard that whenever an honours list is published.” Hobb shook his head sadly. “If you need to dispute this oversight—if this is what it is—then I suggest you speak to your professor… politely, I might add. I’m afraid that standing here and stopping others from seeing their places on the lists only humiliates you, wastes others’ time and increases the chances that I will have to call the Watchers of Roal to have you removed.”

Hobb’s face turned truly mournful. “And that would be such a sad, sad thing for me to have to do.”

Turning redder by the second, the student grabbed his ruined hat and stomped from the hall, most of the other students sighing in relief as he went. As Alex watched him go, he noticed a familiar raven-haired figure standing in line by the lists for second-year classes. She was with a pair of other young women, and looked far healthier than she did during midterms.

He noticed her stealing glances toward the first-year lists.

Likely looking to see her place in COMB-1000 as well.

Alex frowned.

He wondered who would come out on top between the two of them.

Seeming to sense his look, she turned and caught sight of his group. He, Thundar, Khalik and Theresa waved at her.

She gave a little wave and polite smile to each of them.

When her face fell on Alex, though, her eyes burned and her chin lifted.

Not in anger.

But in challenge.

Chapter 15

Isolde’s Pressure

“Yes!” Khalik grinned, tapping his name where it appeared on two lists: one for Magic Lore I and one for Earth Magic I. “Aaaaah, my brother would have never let me hear the end of it were I not to gain top five in at least two classes.” He raised an eyebrow as he tapped the top name for Magic Lore I. “Oho, I see we have a familiar name at the top spot for magic lore. Well done, Alex.”

Alex grinned as he saw his name emblazoned at the top of the sheet.

Most of the names on the honours lists were written in black ink, but the top three names were embossed with gold ink for the top spot, silver for second place and bronze for third. The ink seemed to glitter with its own inner life, and a flutter of pride and amazement to see his own name in raised gold letters filled Alex.

Magic Lore I’s midterm had been the easiest of all the tests he’d taken. For one, it was an entirely written test. No spell casting, practical exam, or anything of the sort. The only thing it really tested was how well he memorized, regurgitated and processed magical theories and history.

No spellcraft involved.

Magic lore would normally be something he was already good at, but with the Mark helping to boost his memorization and application, he knew he’d aced the exam before even reaching the last question.

“Holy hell.” Thundar blinked. “That’s not the only class either, look at this. Top Rank for POTI-1000: Alex Roth. Guh, I really should have taken that class so you could teach me. Let’s see, though—hah!” He tapped his own name, which was fifth place in body enhancement and seventh place in illusions. “I got two so far! Better than I thought.”

“Nice job!” Alex said.

A cheer went up from Shishi, and Alex noticed her pointing at a name—written in Tarm-Lungite symbols—in fourth place in Lifeforce Enforcement I. She and Theresa were all smiles and exchanged double high-fives.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

He was surrounded by some very, very talented people it seemed.

His chest puffed out a little. “I guess talent attracts talent.” He grinned, noting his name at the top of POTI-1000’s list. No ‘Derek Warren’ was anywhere on the list, though he did notice ‘Carey London’ in tenth place—the last spot.

“Still damn impressive, though,” Alex muttered, then frowned, noticing Kybas—the goblin student he talked to during class—wasn’t on the list for POTI-1000. A quick scan revealed Kybas’ name in second place for the study of magical beasts, though.

Alex thought back to how much the little goblin loved his young crocodile.

No surprises there.

He swallowed, scanning the lists until he found FORC-1550 and sighed.

No ‘Alex Roth’ appeared among the names of the top ten for that class. No surprises there either. He’d done very, very well on the written test, but those lost points in speed for casting his spells knocked his average down on the practical part to the low eighties.

That was one of the reasons he’d focused on learning spells that could be sustained. Spellcasting while dealing with the Mark slowed him down, and while that didn’t much affect day-to-day life, in situations of high-tension—such as combat—a few heartbeats could be costly.

Still, he’d done well enough on the written part that he’d hoped they would have balanced each other out and let him get a top ten spot. Apparently, it wasn’t enough—he supposed that was what happened when competing with some of the most talented students of wizardry in all the world.

“Okay, what does this even mean?” Thundar pointed at the top of the sheet for Mana Manipulation I. Above even the top ten, Alex’s name was embossed in larger print with a silvery ink that sparkled as though it were liquid diamond. Beside it was Val’Rok’s seal and the printed words: ‘Challenge Exceeded.’

Khalik’s eyes widened and he swore in his mother tongue. “You Challenged the Exam for Credit and defeated it?” The young prince gaped. “What kind of monster are you?”

In all the honours lists for first-year classes—of which there were many—only a handful of names were embossed in the diamond ink.

“A friendly monster.” Alex grinned proudly.

All around were whispers among the other students. Others had begun to notice his name had appeared in gold multiple times and were wondering aloud who ‘Alex Roth’ was.

‘Not going to rate high on any lists of suspects for ‘the Fool’ now, am I?’ Alex chuckled internally, even as he, Khalik and Thundar looked at each other and exchanged nods.

They searched for the sheet for COMB-1000.

Three cheers erupted at once.

In gold lettering: Alex Roth.

In silver lettering: Khalik Behr-Medr.

In bronze lettering: Thundar, Son of Gulbiff.

In fourth place: Isolde Von Anmut.

Six more names were ranked after that. It was a small class, and so the only name that did not appear on the honours list was Rayne’s.

“Isolde!” Khalik called. “Come, come, you must see this! First group is best group!” He laughed uproariously.

Alex looked over to see Isolde, who was staring up at several honours lists, nodding in satisfaction at each. Her friends were chatting to each other and seemed to have lost interest in the lists.

“Isolde!” Khalik called again.

“Hm? What? What? What?” She blinked, shaking off her concentration. “Ah, hello, friends. What is it?”

“Come! See your name immortalized with ours!” Khalik laughed.

Isolde raised an eyebrow, and her blue eyes lit up in anticipation. They flicked to Alex, and that note of challenge entered them. Alex’s eyes darted back and forth as she approached, with her head held high.

“Did we do well?” she asked as she arrived. “Ah, I s—”

The colour drained from her face and her eyes went wide. Her jaw fell open. “Fourth?” she gasped as though she’d just learned her father died.

“Yeah!” Thundar said, clapping her on the back. “We did damn well! A big, bad four!”

Isolde stumbled forward but caught herself. Her eyes continued to stare at Alex’s name embossed in gold. Then they shot to other lists. She began to tremble when she saw the list for POTI-1000 and outright gasped again when she saw what he’d achieved in mana manipulation.

Isolde stepped back, shaking her head. And at this point, she’d caught Theresa’s attention.

“Isolde? Are you alright?” Theresa asked.

Isolde, however, turned to Alex. She shook, muttering something under her breath.

Khalik and Thundar had stopped laughing.

“Uh…” Thundar started.

Isolde swore loudly in Rhinean and immediately began to rush through the crowd toward the exit.

“Isolde? Isolde!” shouted one of her friends.

“Ah shit,” Alex said. “Isolde! Isolde!”

His friends called after her too, but she kept going, her speed increasing as she neared the doorway.

“Running in the hall is unsafe,” Hobb chided from beside the board.

Thinking quickly, Alex decided to try something he’d been practicing for a while.

“Isolde! I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t do anything to you! What’s wrong? Come back to us!” he called to her.

She froze in front of the entrance, and slowly turned back with an incredulous expression.

He hadn’t spoken to her in the common tongue, but in her own mother tongue of Rhinean—one of the languages he’d been practicing for months using the Mark.

“I… I…” she said in disbelief, as Alex, Thundar, Theresa and Khalik rushed through the crowd. Isolde’s friends also pushed through.

As the six of them arrived in front of a gawking Isolde, her face twitched, and suddenly, she broke down into tear-filled laughter.

“Thank the elements,” she gasped before the stunned group. “Your accent is terrible. You are human after all!”

“I do not like to lose, particularly at things which I excel,” Isolde explained.

The group had long left the hall and gone to a more secluded spot on campus. Each of them had grabbed drinks from a nearby stand and were sitting among the trees. Shishi and Isolde’s two friends had departed for classes, which left Alex, Thundar, Theresa, Khalik and Isolde seated within a copse of trees, away from prying eyes.

“And, thankfully, that is not an experience I am subjected to very often.” Isolde sipped her steaming hot cider. “I work diligently and maximize my natural gifts in order to learn quickly, efficiently and well.”

“Yeah, so I heard. One of Val’Rok’s graduate students told me that you topped all the first-year honours lists last year.” Alex sipped his drink, leaning against the same tree as Theresa.

Khalik whistled. “Every list?” he said with true respect in his voice. “For every class you took? That is incredible. Even the most gifted general cannot win every battle.”

Thundar watched everyone quietly, remaining silent and taking a long sip.

Isolde gave a bitter laugh. “Incredible? It is expected.” She shook her head. “My grandfather is the head court wizard for the Emperor of Rhinea.”

Thundar spit his drink onto the ground, while Theresa began coughing into hers. Alex nearly inhaled his, and started choking. Only Khalik took the information in stride. Likely his own secret made him a little less shocked at her revelation of status.

“I see,” Khalik said. “That would mean a great deal of pressure. A pedigree like that comes with expectations.”

“Truthfully spoken,” Isolde said. “It was drilled into me at an early age to excel in the study of wizardry by my grandfather, in hopes that I would gain a position at court upon my graduation. It is not an easy task. The court wizards are highly skilled, and the choice is also half-political.”

Her gaze darkened. “And there are those that do not wish for me to enter, as that would grant my grandfather another ally. As such, my performance here must be exemplary, unassailable by any standard.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure,” Theresa said.

“Of course it is,” Isolde agreed. “But I do relish it. The thrill of accomplishment is one that I am used to and one that I very, very much enjoy. But… Theresa, in truth, it can be so very tiring at times. So very, very tiring.”

“Jeez, that must have made it really rough, when uh… that stuff happened in potions.” Alex winced.

“What stuff?” Thundar asked.

Isolde’s jaw tightened. Alex heard the grind of teeth against teeth. “I met a handsome, young, easy-going count’s son from the countryside of my homeland. He was delightfully charming, helped me relax and brought a romance to my life… and I thought… well, perhaps we…”

The grinding intensified. “It turns out that when he said he was ‘fascinated by my mind’ that his meaning was far less romantic than I thought. I sought to help him with his studies, and unknown to me, he copied my assignments. To Professor Jules, it looked like I might have helped him cheat. It was resolved in my favour, and I received no academic demerits, but I was disqualified from the honours list for POTI-1000 while the scandal was being investigated. Once it was proven I had no knowledge of his misconduct, the list was already finalized.”

She swore in Rhinean. “A foolish, foolish mistake. And what do I see today?” She looked at Alex. “A first-year who joined Generasi while knowing only one spell exceeded my performance in first-year mana manipulation after only half of first semester and will now proceed to second-year, and secured the top honours for many, many courses… including defeating me—along with two other first-years—in the chancellor’s personal course. It is a shock.”

Alex grimaced, imagining how things must have been in the previous year for her. He’d been working himself to the bone since he’d reached Generasi. How would he have felt if one of his achievements went up in smoke because he was manipulated by someone he trusted.

“Well, uh,” Alex said. “The grad student I talked to said you were doing very well. Like, your feelings are your own, but you impress the hell out of me.”

The others nodded in agreement, but Isolde let out a short laugh. “I have begun to hear professors and graduate students alike speaking about you. In POTI-2000, one of the teaching assistants mentioned how you were offered a position to help with Professor Jules’ personal research. That is an honour unheard of for a first-year. It is astounding!”

Alex thought he noticed an edge in her voice as she said it, but didn’t voice that.

“So here I am,” she said. “Struggling to throw off the shame of my lack of judgement… while you fly like an eagle. I must say, my compliments. My compliments.”

Silence filled the copse of trees. Then Thundar raised his hand. “Hey, why don’t we all pool our resources? Come together as a herd?”

“Hm?” Isolde looked up at the minotaur. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, what’s this, Thundar?” Khalik asked.

“Well, I feel ya. You have to perform as best you can, and you’ve been doing it all by yourself, Isolde,” Thundar said. “But a lone bull gets killed without a herd.”

“I-I have friends,” Isolde said a little defensively.

“I know,” the minotaur said. “But when we saw you in the library, you were all by yourself. You work on your own, don’t you?”

“…Yes. As I was taught.”

Thundar lifted the charm-necklace he’d received from the chancellor. “Baelin said his students sometimes form lasting bonds, right? Why don’t we do something like that? Together, the four of us crushed his first test. We work well together. I know Khalik and Alex study together a bunch, and I sometimes join in, but what if we worked together a lot more closely. We’re the big bad four.”

“What’re you saying?” Alex asked.

“I think I might know…” Khalik said, intrigued. “Remember that brotherhood we saw recruiting in the stadium? Ursa-Lupine Brotherhood of Generasi?”

“Yeah, that really old battle-mage thing?”

“Well.” Khalik shrugged. “It is really old, true, but it had to be started by someone, sometime, right?”

Alex’s brain began to follow. “Like how Carey London started Campus for Uldar.”

“What do you mean?” Isolde asked.

“I mean,” Thundar said, leaning forward and grinning. “The four of us come together. Start our own official little private society of wizards. Something that can last for our time here and maybe beyond graduation. Something that can grow. A big bad four that helps each other like we did in the Barrens, now, and later.”

Alex’s mind raced at the possibilities.

Isolde looked at Thundar closely. Despite her frown, her eyes were intrigued.

Chapter 16

The Rally

“Ooooh, this is a great bloody idea!” Alex said excitedly. “Thundar, you’re a genius.”

“Hey.” The minotaur tapped his thick skull. “This head isn’t only for ramming things.”

“I don’t understand,” Theresa said. “How is this different from coming together and just studying?”

“Well, it goes like this,” Alex said, recalling lessons of wizard history from his magic lore class and something Baelin had said. “Sometimes wizards form cabals, councils and other organizations to basically share power and for safety. There’s a few in Thameland, like the Witches of Crymlyn Swamp. Imagine it like a guild or a hunting lodge, except for wizards.”

“There are many on campus,” Khalik added. “Brotherhoods, sisterhoods… siblinghoods, societies and others. Some are like the General Student Association: they represent students and their interests to the school and in Generasi. My brother was a member. They organize events, support each other academically, and in other ways as well.”

“Cabals of wizards also share discoveries in their research into magic, and so each member progresses quicker with their own discoveries,” Isolde added. “Some of the great old unions of the past gained political favour as well, rising to become court wizards to kings and even emperors.”

“Oh, so it’s like a hunting party when you need to hunt, a study group when you need to study, and a council when you need to make decisions?” Theresa asked.

“Damn right,” Thundar said. “And we’re the baddest bastards in all of COMB-1000—If you don’t count a probably invincible shark man.”

“Yeah, we did kick some ass, didn’t we?” Alex agreed. He thought about the Heroes of Thameland—a group chosen and provided with the power to defeat the greatest of enemies. This wouldn’t be like that. Instead, they would be their own group dedicated to backing each other up in times of trouble and supporting each other in times of peace. “I don’t think we should commit to this for life, though.”

The minotaur snorted. “Yeah, I’m not some little kid, proposing marriage just because I picked someone a flower. I’m thinking we support each other until the end of the year, and if we hate each other, then we shake hands—or punch faces—and away we go. But.” Thundar looked at Isolde. “You’re a second-year. You probably have a lot less to gain from this than we do?”

“On the contrary.” Isolde shook her head. “You all are a year beneath me, that is true, but most of you are taking courses that are outside my chosen expertise. And, even if you are taking similar courses as I…”

She paused and spoke a quick incantation, instantly casting forceball.

Alex’s eyes widened. She was about as quick as he used to be before the Mark. Even if she was in a more advanced year, being able to cast the spell the way she had took talent, practice and skill. He’d only gotten to be as fast as he was after years of practice with one single spell.

“I have cast a perfect example of the spell, right out of the spell-guide,” she said. “As such, it is a useful utility spell that sheds light and can support some weight. Yours, though, Alex—is monstrous—I had thought to duplicate your version, but your modifications must be extensive.”

Alex shrugged. “I made it work for me.”

“And so, we should make this.” She gestured to the group. “Work for all of us. You can teach me how you modified your forceball, Alex, and I think that will be well worth uniting our efforts.”

“Yeah, and hey,” Alex said. “Next semester, if I’m in your class for mana manipulation. Then we can help each other.”

Something flashed through her eyes. A spark of determination.

“Well, then.” She smiled. “We shall aid each other. We all shall, and then grow together because of it. But… what do we call our little siblinghood?”

“The Herd of Thunder.” Thundar grinned.

Silence spread through the clearing.

Alex coughed awkwardly.

“Um, perhaps we don’t need to name ourselves quite yet,” Khalik said. “We could take the time to think of a suitable name that we all will be pleased with.”

“Fine, but no matter how long you think, you’ll come back to my idea. It’s great,” Thundar said.

“Then we are adjoined,” Isolde said. “Until the end of the semester, we wizards shall work in union to overcome challenges both within our studies and from without.”

The four wizards shook hands while Theresa witnessed it with a smile.

When Isolde took Alex’s hand, her grip tightened.

“We are adjoined, but to let you know, I shall be making all efforts to crush you when you enter second-year mana manipulation,” she said with a challenge in her voice.

Alex grinned. “Sorry, it’s gonna be hard to crush me when you’re pinned firmly beneath the bottom of my boot.”

Isolde’s eyes flashed and her grip tightened further. “Challenge accepted.”

Alex’s smile faded slightly.

There was an edge to Isolde’s voice.

“Alex, I think Isolde’s jealous of you,” Theresa said as the two of them made their way back to the insula.

The group had finished their drinks, chatted, planned and set a date and time for their first meeting to share knowledge and help each other study as one group.

Isolde left to find her friends, while Thundar and Khalik went on their way, discussing one of the courses they shared.

Alex had been feeling good after the meeting, but kept thinking back to the edge in Isolde’s voice.

“You noticed something too?” Alex asked. “I was thinking maybe that was what was going on… but why would she be jealous of me?”

“She said it herself, she strives to be the best and hates to lose. Then you come along and have accomplishments at least as good as hers, and better. You said the graduate student who watched over your test knew of her and her accomplishments—and now she said they’re talking about you. For someone that’s striving to be the very best, that’d be kind of tough to take. Especially if you’re trying to make up for an ex-partner ruining one of your accomplishments in the previous year.”

“Yeah, when you put it like that…” Alex muttered.

Already—in only a few months—Alex’s skill with mana manipulation had become a major point of pride for him. It was something he’d worked hard at even before the Mark—just from practicing forceball so many times—and the Mark only made him better at it. When he got frustrated at his slow progress with spellcraft or his limits in other areas, he’d return to mana manipulation as something he could be truly proud of.

How would he have felt if next year someone showed up and was clearly as good as he was, if not better? Well, he might feel jealous. Then again, one can’t excel at everything. FORC–1550 was a perfect example.

“Do you think… you don’t think it’s going to be a problem, do you?” Alex asked. He imagined Isolde going crazy with jealousy one day and blasting him with lightning. She did seem pretty intense at times.

“I don’t think so,” Theresa said. “Isolde seems pretty reasonable. And… let’s see… folk called me the best hunter in Alric, but if someone moved into town who was obviously a lot better than I was, I’d feel a little jealous, sure, but I’d also be happy if we could help each other out. Maybe it’ll be the same now that you’re all pooling your resources.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Then again,” Theresa said. “We still don’t know her very well.”

“Yeah, true. I guess we’ll find out now that we’re going to be officially helping each other out and all.”

“Mhm.” Theresa nodded.

Their footsteps crunched on the path, and Alex looked down to see dried grape leaves littering the stones. He glanced up. The side of a nearby building was decorated with wreaths made up of dried grape vines. They were similar to the ones he’d seen in town, and also surrounded paintings of snarling monsters.

He nodded in the direction of the wreaths. “What do you think that’s all about? Some kind of festival?”

Theresa shook her head. “I have no idea, but if it is, I think it’s going to be a spooky one.”

“Yeah, definitely. Maybe we can ask Khalik when he gets back to the insula. He seems to know a lot about what goes on here thanks to his brother.”

Alex frowned as the image of the smiling prince crossed his mind.

They were entering into an official partnership—the four of them—and wizard unions shared knowledge. And sometimes secrets. Khalik had continued to come by the apartment to study, and invited them over several times for meals. He even came to Selina’s affinity test and jumped in to help her when she started screaming, just as he had.

Khalik also had his own secret, which he’d trusted Alex with.

The young man’s frown deepened and his shoulder seemed to itch.

Isolde had shared her feelings with the group and the result was a strengthening of relations between the four of them. What would have happened if she hadn’t voiced her thoughts? What would have happened had they just festered in silence for months? Maybe a year or more?

Again, that mad image of lightning being hurled by Isolde entered his mind.

Secrets could turn rotten if left to fester too long. At this point, he was comfortable in saying he and the prince were becoming good friends. And now they were going to work together both for advancement and protection.

He sighed.

Perhaps it was time to tell the prince of Tekezash about the Mark.

Not necessarily Isolde and Thundar—not yet—but he thought his neighbour could be trusted, especially when Alex held one of his secrets. Anxious thoughts returned: of Khalik calling him a coward or telling someone else.

The hair on the back of his neck raised as he thought back to Derek—how the slimy young man earned Isolde’s trust, only to ruin something really important to her.

He shook the thought away.

Khalik really had nothing to gain from doing anything like that, and his gut told him he could be trusted. He liked Khalik, and that was that. Besides, he was strongly beginning to consider telling Baelin as well. What the chancellor did to help Selina had really solidified Alex’s trust in the ancient wizard.

He would tell Khalik first, and soon.

Then, a little later, once he was a bit closer to Baelin, he might tell him as well. He’d tell Theresa what he was thinking, just to get a second opinion, and then he’d think on the when and how to tell Khalik.

Even as he decided, it felt like a weight lifted off his body, and he rotated his shoulders. Secrets were heavy things, as were lies.

His mind returned to Derek.

Lies and dishonesty didn’t seem to bother him very much, which brought him to his other problem. In less than a week, Carey London’s rally to get priests onto campus was occurring.

Alex planned to observe it from a safe distance.

If something was happening with the priests and campus, he wanted to be the first to know.

“We need the presence of the divine on campus!” a student shouted from inside the gates of Generasi, his voice amplified by a spell. It boomed over the grass, drawing the attention of passers-by.

Campus for Uldar and others who had come out for the rally gathered just within the school gates. The crowd wasn’t as large as Alex feared it would be, but definitely larger than he’d hoped. More than fifty students milled about, many of them holding signs bearing symbols of their deities.

Alex had climbed a tree a good hundred yards away—practice and increased strength made it easy—and lifted a spyglass to his eye. It was a tool he’d borrowed from the campus’ Astronomy Society—and spied the familiar form of Carey London holding a sign that bore the white hand of Uldar. Derek was going around, shaking hands and showing support by hoisting a sign with the four elements of the Rhinean Empire.

The rally was a spirited one. Many students with musical talents had brought instruments and were sitting on the grass nearby, singing songs to their deities and chanting along with the rally’s slogans.

What Alex saw outside the campus gates made him very, very glad he hadn’t allowed himself to be bullied into attending. No amount of bullying would have made that happen.

Priests were gathering on the other side.

A white-robed servant of Uldar stood out among clerics of other religions—some he recognized, some he didn’t—all standing beside each other. There weren’t many, less than ten in total, and they appeared as nervous as mice at a cat convention.

Above them on stone disks floated three terrifying Watchers of Roal. Silent, with weapons close at hand, the aura of disapproval rising off them was palpable.

“We do not agree with the chancellor’s policy!” Carey shouted, her own magically enhanced voice booming as loud as a bear’s roar. “We are wizards! We are part of the world, as are the gods, and we cannot afford to let people suffer while we do not ally!”

Cheers went up from the rally.

“My homeland, Thameland, suffers beneath the yoke of a monster!” she cried. “The good that my people could receive from Generasi forming a union with the gods, would be incredible! We study magic, and are the deities not the most magical entities in all of creation?”

Carey was good at projecting her voice. Her tone was clear and strong, like someone who wielded authority. Her passion came through her words and—though most students were uninterested or only stopped for a few seconds out of curiosity—some were showing interest in the proceedings.

Meanwhile, Alex’s interest was waning.

The rally shouldn’t result in anything too problematic for him by the looks of it. The priests were terrified being so near the school, and the protesting students—while they had voiced their objections—weren’t taking any actions beyond simple calls to action.

In the meantime, he had cooking to do. The next day, Thundar, Isolde and Khalik were coming to his apartment for their first meeting, and afterward, Shiani, Angelar and Grimloch were going to join them for a picnic. There was no way the entire group would fit in his apartment, especially with Thundar and Grimloch present. He hadn’t invited Nua-Oge—the selachar wizard whose entourage Grimloch was a part of—because he didn’t actually know her, and hoped that wasn’t some sort of rude oversight in terms of wizarding social rules.

Then he and Shiani would talk to Selina. It was going to be a big evening.

He was about to slide down from the tree, when his mana senses started tingling.

His heart began to beat faster.

A strong wind began blowing through the treetops, and the air grew colder. There seemed to be a sinister whispering hidden in the gust. From somewhere close, he felt a similar magic to Baelin and Sinbrok’s spell being cast. It was almost teleportation magic, but slightly different.

Then a familiar, creeping feeling crossed his skin.

His eyes went wide.

It was similar to what he’d felt around the lesser shoggoth in Jules’ lab.

“Oh, shit,” Alex whispered. “Something’s coming.”

And that was when the screams began.

Chapter 17

The Demons

Screams echoed from the west, and a patch of ground near the campus gates swelled like an overfilled waterskin.

Crackle.

Students scrambled away as the grass singed.

Crack!

The swelling ruptured, bleeding a glowing orange light.

Boom!

A mass of dirt and rock erupted, sending a titanic column of flame roaring into the air with horrifying silhouettes dancing within. Shadowy skeletons. Bat-winged things.

Open mouths filled with teeth. Horned figures that reminded Alex of Hobb.

That last thought made him freeze.

“Oh… no…” he murmured.

Thm.

A massive, clawed hand reached out of the earth—completely unbothered by the raging fire—and slammed into the ground.

Thm.

Another hand emerged, gouging trenches into the soil. Alex gasped when two more hands reached up and slammed into the ground. Four powerful arms—thicker around than Alex’s body—flexed beneath blue-black flesh, hoisting the creature from the pit of the earth.

Its body was a mountain of demonic muscle, with a head that looked like a cross between a boar and a hell-spawned crocodile. This unearthed terror must have stood thirty feet tall, supporting massive bat-like wings that flared out more than twice that in width.

A mouth filled with broad, jagged teeth bared in unbridled wrath, and—as Alex remained transfixed within the trees branches—its stomach tore open sideways to reveal a vertically slit mouth large enough to swallow Thundar whole.

Inside, the mouth was a void of utter darkness. The only other time Alex saw a darkness so deep was when he’d walked through the doorway of the Traveller, and was met by a scene of impenetrable shadow lurking between stars.

Although he’d never encountered a demon, tales from magical lore and his screaming instincts warned him that was exactly what this creature was. Even from his distance, every sense felt its aura of fear and malice. It wormed its way into his mind, trying to grasp his emotions and overwhelm him in terror.

Alex braced against the intrusion, calling up memories of experiences where his thoughts had been assaulted by the Mark, the mana vampire, or proximity to the shoggoth, and fought away the onslaught.

He was able to, but the other students weren’t.

Their screams were deafening.

The rally disintegrated in an instant. Students scattered as the monster’s unnatural aura swept over them in a wave. They fled in droves, trampling each other in their haste. Many of the priests ran, scrambling away from the gates and rushing toward the city. Some, including the priest of Uldar, remained.

Then the creature roared.

An icy wind blasted out in a cone from both mouths, dousing the column of flame from which it had emerged and freezing the grass. One of the escaping students was caught in its path and shrieked as her arm froze.

The young wizard collapsed, wailing in terror and pain.

The Watchers of Roal sprang into action, waving staffs above their heads and drawing swords. Spears of magic lanced at the demon, piercing its hide. The creature bellowed in rage. One of the Watchers hung back, chanting an incantation. Alex felt mana build, similar to what permeated the air before the demon appeared.

The lone priest of Uldar gripped the bars of the fence, turning his palm toward the demon, and shouted a prayer to his god. His hand glowed and beams of light shot out, encircling the demon like serpents, forming three floating rings of light. It roared, spraying icy breath from its mouths, unable to advance when it hit the rings.

With black narrowing eyes, it pushed against the bonds of light. One shattered, and the Watchers of Roal flew around the monster like swarming wasps. Spears of mana were fired from one’s staff. Another cast longer, more involved spells, his staff glowing as it built up power.

But the demon didn’t remain idle.

While the circles of light bound its body, they hadn’t wrapped around its wings. It snapped them open to their full wingspan.

Then, they began to shimmer.

A horde of monsters resembling imps emerged, bursting from the wings as though they were freed through open gates.

The imps—about the size of large rats—converged on the Watchers and priests outside the gates. While the priests screamed, ducking from slashing claws and gnashing teeth, the imps bounced off invisible shields surrounding the Watchers.

The first Watcher of Roal kept firing mana spears into the massive demon, while the second switched his attention, uttering a short incantation.

Crackle.

What blasted from his staff was a spell like Isolde’s more powerful lightning spells, but far more intense. Bolts of lightning as thick around as Alex’s arm tore through the imps, sending them from shuddering, to bursting into flames.

Some showed no fear and still swarmed the Watchers or flew after the fleeing students.

Then more demons emerged.

Large hound-like creatures sprang from the demon’s giant wings to land on the ground outside the rings. They didn’t have Brutus’ bulk, but they rivalled a wolf in size. Their bodies were covered in massive spikes of ice instead of fur, and their breaths misted into the air.

With hollow howls that cut straight to the bone like on the coldest winter day, the monsters sprang, bounding toward their prey. Cursing loudly, the third Watcher aborted her spell and whirled, firing a blast of flame at the ice hounds. Screams filled the air as icy bodies evaporated, but some dodged and charged the young wizards.

Alex—meanwhile—hadn’t remained idle either.

While watching the attack, he’d cast two spells: the first was Force Shield, which conjured a glowing circular, crimson shield. The second was Wizard’s Hand. He was ready. Alex jumped from the tree, rolling as he hit the ground.

Coming up, he leaned out from beside the tree and took in the situation. Some of the students being attacked by the frozen hounds had begun to fight back with their own spells, but were far less experienced than the Watchers, or even the students in COMB-1000.

Many panicked under pressure, spoiling incantations or choosing the wrong spells for the situation—magic that either took too long to cast or wasn’t effective on the canine demons’ frozen hide.

The priest’s robe had turned bloody, but he’d chanted a prayer to Uldar that erected a glowing aura around him, and began to fight using his glowing fists. Where his blows struck, the imps shattered like glass against the channelled god’s power.

One of the Watchers had broken from the battle with the great demon and cast a spell, erecting a wall of fire between some of the students and the charging ice demons.

Alex looked at a pair of hounds running in his direction, directly toward some students. He stepped out from behind the tree and snapped out Wizard’s Hand. It grabbed and twisted one of the ice hound’s legs as it leapt.

His spell tugged the leg to the side and pulled, causing the demon to lose balance and fall near its partner. Alex cracked his neck when the creatures turned their hateful hunger on him. A glance toward the sky revealed more of the Watchers on their way. Just like with the mana vampire, he didn’t have to try to defeat these things, only hold them up until they could be finished off.

Unlike with the mana vampire, he was much better prepared now.

He fell into the first stance of the Spear-and-Oar Dance.

“Hey, you frosty shits!” he shouted. “Come bite something that can bite back!”

Of course, he couldn’t bite anything back, but the demons didn’t need to know that.

With crackling howls, they charged, their breaths hissing as he stepped confidently into the Dance. The demon-hounds snapped and snarled, but he’d already incorporated the new steps and motions he’d learned from Fan-Dor, vastly increasing his mobility.

Like during his battles in the Barrens, his heartbeat quickened, but those experiences taught him the need to remain steady and use deep, meditative breaths to counter his fear. He remained focused.

Alex dodged around their snouts, avoiding their bitter, frozen breath.

The bright-spitters had been faster and manoeuvred better. That gave him an edge.

Wizard’s Hand shot out, grabbing at their legs and tugging their spikes, sending them careening off-balance. Force shield spontaneously moved between him and the demons, keeping them at bay.

The heat of battle blended with their icy breath until it almost felt refreshing, but Alex kept a close watch on the demons and his confidence. He needed to hold both in check since he had no idea what these things were capable of. If he underestimated them—

They all stopped attacking, opening their mouths in unison. The coldness of their breaths abruptly deepened.

“Shit!” Alex swore, remembering the giant demon’s icy breath from earlier.

He dodged to the side.

Cones of icicles like glass shards blasted out, striking where he’d just been and—though he’d danced away—several hit his Force Shield, shattering against the glowing, crimson magic.

Alex’s eyes narrowed as an idea came to him. “Try that again and you’ll regret it!”

One of the beasts charged, while the other’s mouth opened.

The cold deepened.

Alex dodged, avoiding the one that leapt, while he shot Wizard’s Hand at the other whose jaws were spreading. The crimson Hand reached out and held the creature’s snout and jaw, clamping them shut. Shudders passed through it as it squirmed, trying to break free.

Shnk!

Icicles burst through its jaws, tearing its mouth apart as Wizard’s Hand shot away.

Spraying freezing, black blood, the canine demon shuddered and collapsed. The other glanced back at the fallen one, then charged Alex, howling in rage. Its attacks became careless. Alex easily danced and dodged away. When he’d fought the starving mana vampire, even his most desperate moves and use of cover had barely managed to keep it away.

Now, as he used more of the Dance in different ways, the frost hound wasn’t even coming close to catching him.

His crimson shield spun to a position behind, and he heard a heavy impact against it. Surprised, he leapt to the side, and using the Dance’s first spin, whirled to see both the frost hound and whatever it was Force Shield blocked.

He swore.

Three flying imps had dove at him while he was dealing with the hounds. The first one had aimed for his head, but met his shield instead.

That impact would have popped any of his other force spells; there was a big difference in the strength of his modified forceball and forcedisk compared to the spell designed specifically for defence.

Now the imps were swooping around to surround him, while the demonic frost hound paced in a circle, stalking him. Alex’s eyes scanned his opponents, sizing them up. His first priority had to be the frost hound, the most dangerous of the four.

His Force Shield could block the imps—though he wouldn’t want them piling on at once—and that freed Wizard’s Hand to mess up their movements.

Starting now.

Wizard’s Hand flew at one, grabbing a wing and dragging it into the path of the frost hound just as it leapt.

Bang!

The two demons collided, sending the imp flopping to the ground with a shriek, and the frost hound stumbling sideways. Wings snapped back as the other two imps swooped in.

Alex danced around one while Wizard’s Hand grabbed the other’s head, yanking it backward. The imp went into a screaming, flailing spiral until—

Wham!

—it slammed into a tree and slid down the bark, stopping in a twitching heap.

He took a deep breath, and fell into another stance.

His attackers were gathering themselves for another charge when a massive surge of mana swept the grounds.

The air cracked like it was tearing apart.

Alex and the demons froze, gazes moving up until they found the source.

There, floating high above where those at the gates of Generasi were fallen upon—shining in a nimbus of mana and power—towered the enraged figure of Baelin, Chancellor of Generasi. Even from so far away, Alex could feel his dangerous gaze.

“Demon,” Baelin’s voice cracked through the air. “What do you think you are doing to my students?”

Chapter 18

The Chancellor’s Power

The chancellor’s wrath was terrible; his retribution, swift.

He spoke a single word—not an incantation—one syllable that held so much power, Alex’s mana senses shuddered. A grey mist exploded from Baelin—shooting through the air like a shoggoth’s tentacles—and separated into wisps of grey clouds that struck the hounds and imps, coating them as though they’d been sprayed with stone-coloured flour.

Crrrrk.

The demons writhed and screamed. Where the grey mist clung, their flesh began to harden and turn the colour of old slate. All around, dozens of demons were becoming stone statuettes. With a final crack, the frost hounds froze mid-pose while the petrified imps plummeted to the earth.

Crack!

They hit the ground, crumbling into pebbles and stone dust.

The giant demon moved not a single muscle.

Baelin spoke another word of power and an orb of utter darkness swelled in his hand. With a shudder, it broke into hundreds of marble-sized orbs that tore through the air like shrapnel from an explosion.

They seemed to have a sentience and sought out any demons that hadn’t already been turned to stone. Howling with fear, the remaining monsters tried to escape the seeking orbs, but the magic followed their every movement. The demons who’d been attacking Alex scrambled: the imps scattered and the frost hound’s paws beat at the frozen grass, trying to escape.

The dots of darkness honed in on them and struck.

Alex gasped when a sucking sound appeared and the demons collapsed into the orbs like crumpling paper.

Crk. Sqlch.

Bone crumbled and flesh crushed inward as they imploded into the small orbs of darkness, then disappeared with that hideous sucking noise.

“Holy shit,” Alex gaped.

They were gone. Not a drop of blood, scrap of flesh or bone remained of the hounds and imps when all was done.

The giant demon roared, shook itself and began to struggle against the rings with its full might. Where its flesh met the rings, its skin began to hiss as though acid from Jules’ lab had been sprayed on it. The thing seemed unconcerned, smashing at the rings and throwing its steaming body against them again and again until finally, they shattered.

Now freed, Alex prepared to run, expecting it to launch into the air at Baelin. Instead, it whirled on its clawed feet and vaulted for the fiery pit it emerged from, preparing to escape.

Baelin glared with undisguised disdain and spoke a word of power.

Voom.

A titanic, glowing hand of force blazed into life above the demon—at least forty feet wide and shining with a silvery light—and swept down.

Whooooosh!

Bang!

It slammed the creature snout-first into the earth like it was swatting a fly. The monstrosity growled, straining to force itself upright against the spell, then flipped over.

Bang!

This time, it pressed harder against the titanic force of the Hand, bracing against it with all the strength in its wings and four arms, and inhaled. The cone of icy breath blasted from both mouths, spraying upward toward the flying chancellor.

Baelin raised his hand and made a grasping gesture.

With another massive surge of mana, the cone of frost abruptly stopped in front of the ancient wizard, and began to swirl like water flowing down a drain pipe.

The entire cone was sucked into a single point of space floating before his hand—which shone like pure winter ice—then flared with blinding light.

Baelin made a flicking gesture.

The glowing point of ice broke into eight smaller ones and blasted toward the demon. It struck the otherworldly creature in its four arms, both legs and wings.

Its scream ripped through the air.

Ice rapidly burst from the points Baelin’s magic had impacted, spreading over its limbs until they resembled ice sculptures, not flesh.

Crnch!

Against the pressure of the chancellor’s giant force hand, the demon’s frozen arms and wing’s shattered, followed by its brittle legs.

Bang!

Baelin’s spell smashed the demon into the earth then rose up.

Bang!

It smashed it again, pressing down so hard, it left an imprint in the grass in the shape of its body. The creature twitched from the assault as the hand opened and scooped it up like it was one of Selina and Alex’s small clay dolls.

Alex retrieved the spyglass.

The glowing hand hoisted the feebly struggling giant into the air and floated it up until its face was eye-level with the ancient wizard.

“I do not care for your circumstance, pitiful creature,” Baelin’s voice rang across the campus, so loud that even from so far a distance, Alex’s ears rang. “I do not care if you came by your own will—through some pact—or if you were dragged here by some spell’s power. In either case, you shall suffer.” He turned so one of his goat-like eyes was squarely fixed on the demon’s face.

Despite the creature’s features being completely inhuman, Alex could see terror growing in its widening eyes.

“If you tell me with all haste who brought you to this place to harm my students, then you shall be sent back to your realm to lick your wounds. Perhaps, in fifty of our years, you may find yourself whole again. If you do not know who brought you here, or refuse to answer, then—whatever demon lord you call master help you—I will break you so utterly, it will be a millennium before you can piece enough of your essence back together to even think.”

With another word and wave of his hand, both the whimpering demon and the hand of force that held it, vanished into the air.

As soon as it disappeared, students either stayed moaning on the ground, or gaped in shock at the awesome display of magic they’d just witnessed.

Alex was squarely in the latter group, staring up at the chancellor with his jaw hanging open.

Baelin merely turned toward the few priests that stood, panting, at the front gates. “You aided us in our time of need,” he said, and though his words were thankful, his tone was almost cold. “For that, I shall see some reward is sent to your temples. For now, I am sure you will wish to return to your holy places where you can receive healing of both a physical and… spiritual nature.”

“W-wait!” the priest of Uldar cried. “We can aid the wounded!”

“We are more than capable.” Baelin waved his hand.

There was a familiar rush of mana in the form of teleportation magic and the air shimmered around the priests. One by one, they vanished. Only the priest of Uldar remained for a heartbeat longer—obviously straining to resist the spell.

Then, he too disappeared.

Baelin turned back to the wounded. He sighed deeply. “Let’s get you all patched up.”

Things moved quickly and efficiently after that.

The Watchers of Roal arrived in droves and set up a perimeter to begin tending the wounded.

Baelin, through the use of a spell, informed the university infirmary to expect a mass of casualties, and then personally began teleporting the most gravely wounded there. Others arrived on floating stone disks bringing aid: healers that tended the wounded with healing potions, spells from the study of blood magic, and direct transfers of life force through life enforcement.

A number of students who were close by volunteered to help however they could, Alex among them. He used his experience with the emergency kit in Jules’ class to help apply bandages, transfer healing potions, and bring water to those that needed it.

Soon, others from across campus arrived to offer a helping hand, but only some were permitted past the perimeter the Watchers had set up.

While some of the Watchers of Roal were providing aid, others had already begun to investigate the cause of the incident. They gathered around the hole the demon emerged from, casting spells over it that detected mana, or using devices that analysed the magical residue of a summoning. Some were dispatched to patrol and search the surrounding area—both on campus—and the closest city buildings just beyond the gates.

The Watchers also began seeking out and questioning witnesses, Alex included.

“So you weren’t part of the rally, Mr. Roth?” one of the Watchers asked—a squat, tough-looking woman with a long scar that ran from her cheek to chin. Her hands were clapped behind her back and a roll of paper floated beside her, with a pen scratching down notes independently.

“No, ma’am,” Alex said, sitting on the grass beside the temporary recovery station set up for victims who hadn’t been moved from the area yet. “I was over there,” he pointed to the general area of the tree he’d been sitting in, “when it all happened.”

“Mhm,” she said. The pen scratched a little faster. “And what did you see from there?”

“Um… I felt a surge of mana… like teleportation magic, but kind of different. I, uh, work with Professor Jules on special projects and saw a summoning once. The magic I felt today was pretty similar to how it felt then.”

“Right, right, so you sensed the mana and it felt similar to some summoning magic you saw?” she asked. “What else happened then?”

“Yeah… the ground swelled up and then—boom!” He spread his hands. “And that horrible thing came out, and it roared—”

“And what happened when it roared?”

“Well, it felt like—” He paused, trying to figure out how to describe it. “Like magic trying to get into me and make me afraid.”

“It was,” the Watcher said. “Many demons have abilities that get into the mind and cause fear and other unnatural emotions. What did you do then?”

“Uh, I shook it off and—”

“Wait, you shook it off?”

“Yeah, it was a struggle, but I did. I once had a mana vampire try and put me to sleep, but I managed to resist it. I just did the same thing here.”

“Strong will,” she said. The pen scratched faster. “And then?”

He described the battle and Baelin’s fight with the creature as best he could, though he didn’t go into too much detail about how he’d held off the demons that had come after him and the other students he’d been near to.

All that was summed up with: “I used what I learned in Chancellor Baelin’s combat class to survive.”

She nodded, and the pen scratched down his answer. “And did you see anything else? A summoning circle? Anyone that looked suspicious, maybe? Someone hiding that quickly ran away, or someone who teleported away, or maybe went invisible?”

Alex strained his mind, searching for any memories that surrounded the event, but couldn’t remember anyone suspicious around the time of the rally.

If he was truly honest, then he—the guy hiding in a tree watching the event through a spyglass—was probably the most suspicious person around. He was glad he’d been tucked away safely deep within the leaf-covered branches when it happened.

Hopefully, there was no sharp-eyed, suspicious person around who saw him and could accuse him of anything nefarious.

“Right,” the Watcher said. “Then that’s all for now. Keep in mind we might call you if we have further questions… and they might call you too.”

She glanced over to the front gate where a number of Watchers were in a deep, intense conversation with some city guards and a stranger in official-looking purple robes.

“The Generasi investigators work with the Watchers with events that happen on campus, but they might have their own questions for any witnesses. Alright, you’re free to go.” She looked at him sympathetically. “Good work today with helping the wounded. Go home and rest up, I’m sure you’ll need it.”

“Alright, thanks.” Alex got up, grabbed his bags and started to make his way toward the perimeter.

As he reached it, he heard a familiar voice calling him.

“Alex! Alex, wait!” He turned to see Carey London rushing toward him from the recovery tent. “Are you alright?” she asked, stopping in front of him. “That was so dreadfully frightening!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” he said, looking her over carefully. “Are you?”

“Just dandy, aside from the nerves,” she said. “So many were hurt, though… but I suppose it could have been much worse.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed. “If it weren’t for the Watchers, Baelin and the priests, I think we would all be dead. Or at least, really badly hurt. Or maybe worse—”

His mouth started to go renegade.

“—I mean, who knows what that thing was capable of? It could have drunk our souls, or torn us into itty bitty pieces and kept us alive with magic, or frozen us and kept us as ornaments for the rest of time to—Oh.”

He noticed Carey turning paler and paler with each passing word.

“Well, uh, it would have been really bad, let’s just say.”

“I know,” she said, her voice falling into a whisper. She leaned closer. “And I can’t help but feel it was targeting the rally.”

“Maybe… yeah, that would make a lot of sense.”

Except for that explosion in the Cells and the occasional smaller incident, like when his classmate drank quicksilver, there hadn’t been any major incidents, or violence, or disasters on campus.

Then—on the day of a well-publicized rally to bring priests onto campus—someone summoned a monstrous demon right in front of the rally. It made a lot of sense, and he doubted the chancellor was the only one that didn’t want the priests on campus.

“Be careful,” she said conspiratorially. “As a follower of Uldar, you don’t know if you’ll be targeted or who might have wanted our rally not to happen. Hopefully, the Watchers will catch the culprit soon.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, looking toward the smouldering hole in the ground, hoping she wasn’t including him in her ‘our.’ “I hope so too.”

Chapter 19

The Weight of Secrets

“Have you heard anything more about the demon?” Khalik asked Alex slowly, almost like a child asking a parent about something they shouldn’t know.

“No, have you?” Alex grunted, adjusting the weight of Khalik’s table as they carried it down the hall of the insula.

“Not a word. Nothing beside rumours and fears.” Khalik frowned.

Other students pressed themselves against the hall’s walls, letting them pass. Alex had cast two Wizard’s Hand spells to support the table, and Khalik had cast a spell that conjured a small floating disc of stone to lift and steady it. Once they’d gotten down the hall, the two young men eased it into Alex’s apartment and pressed it against the table already there.

Brutus slept and dreamed on the balcony, undisturbed by their arrival. Theresa and Selina were downstairs keeping an eye on the soufflés, hot bread and roasted meat Alex had prepared for their evening supper after the first meeting of the little cabal.

The plan was to picnic after the meeting. In case anyone wanted to come back and relax, Khalik proposed they bring his table to Alex’s place.

Alex leaned against the table for a moment. “So… has anything like this happened before? Anything your brother told you about?”

Khalik sighed. “I remember once he told a story of someone from the city who raided Generasi’s graveyards and raised the dead. They used magic to pierce the city’s wards that protect the graveyards from necromancy and then cloaked them in illusions powerful enough to foil the Watchers of Roal.” He spread his hands. “And then they unleashed them on the campus.”

“Oh shit. Why?”

“If I remember correctly, some wizard wanted some other wizard’s daughter dead, and they decided to use a mass attack on the school to hide the evidence of their target. It all came out in the end, but a few people died.”

Alex winced. “Can’t believe anyone would do that. You should’ve seen what Baelin did to that demon. Like…I would never, ever, ever want to piss him off.”

“I think they picked a time when he was away.”

“Wow, that’s rough.” Alex shook his head. “I guess there’s more dangers around here than accidents, carelessness and mana vampires.”

“That there is,” Khalik said darkly. “And did you hear about the mana vampire attacks?”

“What? No. I heard there was one in the countryside awhile back, couple months or so. Didn’t they get it yet?”

“No,” Khalik said. “There’ve been attacks in the countryside mostly, and some monster hunters reported they sighted it in a swamp close to the sea, but no one’s been able to catch it. And last night, there was an attack within the city itself.”

Alex’s blood chilled. He’d had a few shifts in Shale’s Workshop training under Lagor with the other assistants, and imagined what might have happened if one of those creatures—powerful and healthy, not starving like the one he’d fought—leapt out of the dark while he was on his way home.

What he would give to know one of Baelin’s powerful teleportation spells.

“How’d you hear about it?” Alex asked.

“A couple of students were talking about it in earth magic this morning. Most people didn’t notice it… what with everyone’s mind solely focused on the demon.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. He made note to keep more alert going to and from work. “Well, maybe we can talk about defending ourselves in the meeting today—think it should be one of the first things we talk about.”

“A fine suggestion.” Khalik smiled. “Since we’ll be together, we should discuss what we can do to defend ourselves and each other if we’re together or apart.” He gave Alex a piercing look. “Have you learned an attack spell yet? In your force class?”

“Started working on it, but haven’t gotten it down yet.”

Khalik scoffed, arranging Alex’s chairs around both tables before they began making their way back to his apartment to get his chairs. “Can’t believe ‘Mr. Golden Lettered Name’ hasn’t completed the whole course yet.”

“Yeaaaah, not yet,” Alex said.

But that hadn’t been for lack of trying.

The first thing he’d done after the demon summoning incident was switch from slowly learning Orb of Air, to going right to trying his hand at force missile.

As he feared, it had not gone well.

The Mark pulled double duty in going against combat spells. The flood of failures, distractions and disruption was twice as hard and twice as vivid. Not only did his every failure in spell casting slam into his mind, they were coupled with every single failed combat manoeuvre, clumsy movement, or badly dodged blow he’d ever experienced in his life.

He nearly caused a mana reversal when—about five percent through force missile’s spell array—the very real sensation of falling down the stairs, like during his fight with the mana vampire, bombarded him.

Progress had been slow, and every step he’d taken was honestly terrifying. He was incredibly thankful he hadn’t attempted any combat spells before he learned the meditation techniques from Theresa.

His work with Orb of Air brought a lot more success. It was a harder task than learning Force Shield—since the spell arrays for air magic were largely unfamiliar to him—but he’d gained enough experience with other first-tier spells that he was getting a good grasp of it fairly quickly.

That had been a relief. If he could apply his analysis of spell arrays to learn magic from schools other than the school of force, that would be a good indicator he’d be able to really expand his magical stock of spells despite the Mark’s interference.

There were still two things he had to worry about.

The first was how he would pass the FORC-1550 assignment for force missile. Right now, the class was still working on Force Shield, but he wouldn’t have forever to perfect force missile. The assignment would come due, and if he couldn’t even cast it, that would be a pretty bad blow to his average in the course.

Another strange thing he’d noticed was that Professor Ram had been paying a lot more attention to him lately. Whenever Alex practiced his force magic in class, he’d look up and catch the instructor closely watching him.

Ram’s face was almost always grim beneath his thick black beard, but it seemed even grimmer lately whenever he looked at Alex.

He wondered if it had something to do with his performance in class. Ram, of course, didn’t know he had a divinely branded Mark that hindered his magic, so to him, Alex’s slow speed at casting spells could only look like lack of skill, lack of practice or laziness.

Alex’s eyes followed Khalik’s back as the broad-shouldered young man led the way to his apartment.

And that was the second thing he was worrying about.

The more time went on, especially after the demon attack and with their little cabal forming, the more Alex wanted to tell Khalik about the Mark.

A thought had occurred to him after the attack: what if the demon had been summoned to attack him? The history books hadn’t told of any times the Ravener summoned demons to attack Thameland, but the history books also hadn’t mentioned humans being able to control a dungeon core.

Anything was possible. Ergo, there was a possibility someone or something had sent the demon to attack him. The more he thought about it though, the less likely it seemed. If something were sent to attack him directly, then why wouldn’t it have targeted him specifically?

Even if it was unlikely, that didn’t mean someday something wouldn’t come for him. He’d been preparing as best as he could, but now he had close friends that would work with him. What would happen if a demon, other monster or some sort of church official leapt out from behind a bush and screamed: “Ahaaaa! I finally foooouuund yoooouuuu!”

The demon attack—whatever the reason behind it—had resulted in a lot of students getting some terrible wounds. And during a probable surprise attack against him, he couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t get caught up in the conflict.

His mind conjured a scenario where he, Khalik, Thundar and Isolde were casually walking through campus, and silence-spiders jumped out in ambush from a tree or top of a building.

What would he do if they—unprepared—had an insectile blade pierce through their hearts. If he survived, would he ever be able to live down the fact that he’d never even tried to warn them?

At the very least, Khalik trusted him with his secret, Alex could share his too. Out of all the people he’d met on campus, he and Khalik were the closest. At least he could start with just him.

Now, if only he could find the best way to say it.

Maybe—

“Alex? Alex!”

“Huh, wha—?” Alex shook his head, pulling away from his trailing thoughts. “What’s up?”

Khalik was shaking his head with a rueful smile. “You were daydreaming like some kind of sun-blinded fool.” He chuckled.

His floating stone carried one of the chairs.

Najyah—sitting on her perch—made a quiet chirping noise as she watched the two young men closely.

“A lot on your mind?” Khalik asked. “Something from the attack?”

“…Khalik,” Alex said. “Can… can I tell you something, after the meeting?”

“Hm?” Khalik cocked his head, his face turning grave. “What is the matter? You can tell me now.”

“No… better we get that done first and then… yeah, it’s going to take a while to talk about.”

“Hmmm.” Khalik frowned in worry. “It sounds serious…”

Quietly, the prince crossed the room and carefully shut the door. He turned back to Alex, his face full of concern. “You are not sick, are you?”

“No, no.” Alex waved away the concern as his two Wizard’s Hands picked up the chairs. Baelin’s display with… whatever that hand spell was had encouraged Alex to really focus his spell customization on that spell.

Wizard’s Hand possessed a lot more versatility than forceball or forcedisk, so if he could just get his power and control over it up to the same level as the other two—

“Alex.” Khalik squinted at him. “Come back.”

Alex shook his head again. He mentally checked himself, noticing an icy feeling in his belly. Nerves. Strong nerves. A large part of him was screaming to not tell Khalik.

To not tell anybody.

His mind was distracting him then, trying to stall him until it could convince him to not go through with it.

“It is serious… and I’m healthy. But I only want to tell you.” He leaned closer to Khalik. “You trusted me with your secret, and as we’re going into this whole cabal thing together, I think it’s only fair I trust you with mine, just…” He winced, imagining the brave prince’s reaction to his desertion of the battle in Thameland. “…just… just hear me out, okay? It’s nothing that’ll affect you badly or negatively or anything like that, it’s just…”

Khalik raised an eyebrow. The muscular young man leaned against his dresser. Between Alex, Selena and Theresa, things sometimes got a little messy, but Khalik’s apartment was cleaned immaculately.

That part of his mind—the part entirely averse to risk—continued to focus on other details. It brought up all the disasters that might occur:

‘Khalik might judge you and cut all contact with you!’ it cried. ‘He might tell everyone in the cabal, or he might decide to get you out of it. Who wants to be in a cabal with someone called ‘the Fool’ anyway? The Mark hinders magic! How will he ever see you as an equal again if you tell him? You already kept the secret for so long, he might feel betrayed you didn’t tell him before.’

Even as that part of his mind put words to his insecurities, it also brought up solutions. ‘Telling anyone would be stupid and risky. You’ve got a good thing going with just Theresa and Selina knowing. All you need to do is keep it to yourself until you graduate. No one else will know, and that’s the only way to guarantee your safety and security while you’re here at Generasi. You can go through all four years in anonymity, with zero risk. It’s the only logical thing—’

He shook those thoughts away. There was some logic to them, but they only worked as long as everything went well. His mind returned to the demon.

If any monster or hunter—even one of the Heroes—came for him, then keeping quiet would be infinitely worse for the people who’d gotten close to him than it would be if he told them before anything happened. They would be unprepared if he didn’t say anything, and be at higher risk. What would happen if they asked questions after there were any sort of bad consequences?

Alex thought of an old story he’d heard as a child from his mother.

One that warned of the consequences of dangerous secrets.

Chapter 20

The First Meeting of the Cabal

The story his mother had told him was about a shepherd boy who snuck into the woods one evening to meet his friends past his parents’ curfew. Becoming lost, the boy came across a wolf in the middle of the forest—one who growled and bit him on the shoulder. A tribe that lived peacefully in the woods—a group of wolf beastmen—found the shepherd boy and guided him out of the trees. He was able to sneak back to his home before his parents ever discovered what he’d done.

The bite was not a bad one, thankfully, because the boy knew if he showed it to his parents, they would know he disobeyed them. So he hid the bite and did not tell a soul.

It healed well and quickly, and soon the boy stopped thinking about it—only regretting that he could not tell his friends.

Then the night of the full moon came, and the boy changed, turning into a monster—part wolf and part human—similar to a wolf beastman, but of far greater size, strength and viciousness. While transformed, the boy ate the neighbour’s sheep and—frightened and ashamed—continued to keep the secret to himself.

He kept the secret for full moon after full moon. When one night, some villagers spotted him attacking their cattle. Thinking he was one of the wolf beastmen and deciding they were a cult of thieves and killers, the villagers organized themselves, marched into the woods, and slaughtered the entire tribe of wolf beastmen.

The boy mourned the lives of those that had helped him, but—too frightened for his own safety—continued to keep the secret.

One hunter, though, remained suspicious.

During the next full moon, the hunter waited in the woods and when the transformed boy appeared, he ambushed him. Man and beast fought a terrible battle, until the hunter slayed the boy with a blow from his silver pommel, and soon after succumbed to his own wounds.

The boy and the hunter were discovered the next morning, and the village witch found a mark of the beast on the boy. The witch grieved, for she had a poultice that would have cured the boy of the curse of lycanthropy, if only she’d known about it before the full moon rose.

And so ended the fable of the Boy Who Refused to Cry Wolf. It was a warning against secrets, and how a secret—left long enough—could not only harm oneself, but also, many, many others.

Alex didn’t want to be known as the Fool Who Refused to Cry Ravener to anyone. He could imagine a younger sibling of Khalik’s telling a story to his friends in the library about how his older brother died because a young man kept a secret to himself.

He pulled out of his wandering thoughts, and this time, Khalik hadn’t interrupted him. The young prince had only watched him closely.

“Jeez.” Alex shook his head. “Here I am, zoning out again.”

“It’s not easy for you to tell, is it?” Khalik said. “You feel like your secret might change things, but you fear what would happen if you continue to keep it.”

Alex was honestly surprised. “H-how did you know?”

“It was what crossed my mind when I was thinking of telling you my secret,” Khalik said. “It… it was something I debated for a time, but… I know this is a strange question, but have you ever been to a noble court? Or a royal one?”

Alex burst out laughing. “Khalik, I was a baker’s assistant to a baker in a small town. I lived in an inn. The most important person I’d ever talked to before I came here was the local magistrate, and I think that was all of twice.”

Once, when his parents died, he was told his inheritance was held in trust, and the second time when he’d gone to claim that inheritance. “Like, I come here and suddenly, I’m hanging out with a prince and a noble who’s a court wizard’s granddaughter, and I’m talking to a super wizard who calls out the gods, and who I’m half-convinced might be able to take one. But like, I used to get excited when I ran into a merchant that came from two towns over. I’m a yokel, Khalik. A true bloody yokel.”

“Fine, fine, I get it!” Khalik held up his hands, looking amused. “I knew it was the wrong question when you took that big breath you always take before you start launching into one of your big speeches.”

“Wait, hold up,” Alex said defensively. “I do not take a deep breath whenever I launch into a ‘big speech.’”

“You do. I’ve known you for a handful of months and I noticed.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “I’m gonna ask Theresa if I do that.”

“And she will tell you that you do.” Khalik shrugged. “But enough of that. The point is, when one is in court, one wades through a swamp of secrets. No one says their true intentions—at least, not in my realm—and hides their intention behind poetry and metaphor. Intention can be interpreted three different ways for every sentence, so if one offends another, one has ways of denying that anything was intended.”

He shook his head. “All keep their true intent behind a mask, and you never know what secrets are being hidden from you. Secrets are power, and to grant a secret to someone is to give them power over you.”

“Jeez, that sounds hard,” Alex said. He couldn’t imagine having to live his entire life trying to phrase things so no one could figure out his intentions unless he wanted them to. The Mark would allow him to build the skill, but he’d go crazy living like that. Besides, his mouth had a tendency to go renegade anyway and then he’d be completely done.

“It is hard, which is why it is refreshing to come to Generasi in anonymity,” Khalik said. “An anonymity I might have lost had you decided to share with anyone. This is why I was able to guess your thinking. I gave you power over me when I shared my secret. And you—realizing that you would be granting me power over you—would also be nervous to share. It makes sense.”

The prince clapped Alex on the shoulder. “Fear not. If you do not wish to share at this moment, I will take no offence. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

“Holy shit,” Alex said. “Do you like… use that line when you’re trying to court someone?”

“Yes,” Khalik said with a straight face.

Alex laughed.

“But,” the prince continued. “I only say it as the truth.”

“…You’re a good friend, man,” Alex said slowly.

“Hah, and no one can ask for higher praise. Now, come! You say you shall tell me afterward, and so let’s get things ready for our first meeting, and for our food.”

“Yeah, man. Thanks… no, really. Thanks.”

Alex took a deep breath.

He felt a lot more confident about sharing the secret now.

Also, he really needed to ask Theresa if he took a deep breath before he launched into big speeches.

“You do,” Theresa said seriously.

“What? No I don’t!”

“You do,” she insisted. “If you’re about to really get into something.” She stood up straighter. “You always take a deep breath, square your shoulders a little, then pause for a heartbeat. Then you launch into it.”

“H-how long have I done that?” Alex demanded.

Theresa’s brow furrowed. “For as long as I’ve known you?”

She’d known him for literally his entire life.

Which meant…

Alex shook his head at himself.

The meeting had gone very well.

Thundar and Isolde arrived shortly after Khalik and Alex set up the tables and chairs, and the four students had gotten right to it.

They began by talking about what each was working on, and what they might have wanted help with.

Alex brought up his struggles with force missile, which Isolde had studied before. Khalik noted he was gaining an interest in body enhancement magic, in which Thundar was very skilled. Thundar, of course, brought up his struggles with battle magic. Khalik offered to help with some of that, as he’d learned the basics of the subject from his studies before arriving in Generasi.

Isolde pretty much insisted on Alex’s help with spell customization, starting specifically with forceball.

From there, they broke into pairs and discussed each other’s subjects of interest. Isolde was not an expert in force magic, but even her general knowledge of magical theory as a second-year was helpful, and that aided Alex in more difficult parts.

“Some of my friends said they found trouble with the top left circle of the array, which is responsible for forming the shape of the missile.” She leaned over him, tapping the section of the array she was referring to. “They said this was a fairly straight-forward method for simplifying it.”

Isolde was thankfully a good teacher—or at least he found so. In truth, she spoke quickly and often didn’t break down concepts completely, seemingly expecting he would know what she was talking about.

To his benefit, in most cases, he did.

In turn, he used the Mark when teaching her, which aided him by pointing out when he’d explained concepts to others in the past. It broke down how he’d phrased his explanations of complex issues and pointed out which tactics conveyed understanding best.

By the time he was finished, he felt like he’d learned almost as much as she had. As a bonus, he conducted part of the conversation in Rhinean, which allowed him to practice the language.

They finished off the meeting by talking about successful strategies they’d used in COMB-1000 when they were in separate teams, and how they might apply those if they were all together.

The only sticking point was when it came to a ‘leader’ of their little cabal.

“As the founder—” Thundar began.

“One of the founders,” Alex said.

“I came up with the idea first.”

“Yes, and then we founded the group together,” Isolde jumped in.

“I dunno, there would’ve been no ‘founding the group together’ if I didn’t come up with the idea.” Thundar rose up, his chest puffing with pride.

“Hold now, what would a ‘leader’ do?” Khalik asked. “There are only four of us and we all decide things in agreement.”

“Well, uh… I dunno.”

“Then why do you want to be leader?”

“Well, having you all call me ‘Master Thundar’ or something would be pretty cool.”

The minotaur was universally booed by the other three wizards.

Alex even threw a spoon at him.

As the meeting wound down, things became more relaxed, and they were soon laughing and joking together. Even Isolde was smiling along.

Before long, it was time for the evening picnic. Time for Shiani to speak to Selina.

Then after? He would tell Khalik about the Mark.

Alex could only shake his head at himself.

‘Really piled it all into one day, didn’t you?’

“You need to cook for me all the time,” Grimloch said as he stuffed another roasted chicken into his mouth.

Not a piece of chicken; a whole one, bones and all.

Alex gaped at the shark man. “I think there’d need to be three of me to cook for you.” He shook his head. “For anyone else that doesn’t eat like a dragon, everyone good?”

A series of muffled affirmations and chewing was all that followed.

Alex grinned in satisfaction. His cooking had really exceeded even his own high standards. The picnic was a fine affair, only marred by a sense of caution. There definitely was a glance at the ground from some of his guests every once in a while, in case it started swelling and vomiting horrible demons right where they were picnicking.

No demons showed up, though, and the meal went nicely.

The group picked a spot on the grass near the insula by a copse of trees that shielded them from the wind. Fall was well underway; the leaves had turned from green to bright reds and deep purples, but the temperatures stayed comfortable.

Alex, Grimloch, Thundar, Khalik, Theresa, Shishi, Isolde, Shiani, Selina and Angelar sat together on the grass. Food disappeared from the spread Alex prepared as though ants were swarming it.

He was glad he’d made a lot, and had gotten a lot faster in the kitchen.

After supper came time for Selina, he and Shiani to talk.

He’d seated Selina between Theresa and Shiani—and directly across from Khalik—so the young girl could get comfortable with the fire wielder. He was nervous about how it would go, but Shiani’s gentle nature worked well with Selina’s personality, and the two of them hit it off like they’d known each other for a long while.

After supper was all finished, the three of them left the others to talk.

At first, they spoke about things Selina liked, then eased into a general conversation about magic, and finally shifted the conversation to the subject of fire.

The young girl went quiet during that last topic.

Shiani seemed a little nervous as she talked about how—in her homeland—fire was worshipped, and it healed as often as it harmed. She spoke of how much fire gave to people, letting them cook their food, and granting them power to defend themselves against monsters of the forest and sea. Helping to keep people warm in cold weather, and lighting up the dark nights. She even spoke of how fire sometimes healed the land.

Alex listened with interest—both for himself and for Selina’s benefit—and the entire time, nobody brought up her affinity. Over time, she started to ask questions.

Probing questions in a soft voice.

Whether she was actually curious or being polite, Alex didn’t know, but she asked them anyway. The questions were mostly about how fire could be good if it destroyed so much.

“Fire can heal,” Shiani insisted. “And fire can protect. It’s like a sword, or like Brutus or even a hand. They can hurt and they can help. Fire is like a child with no mind—it hurts when it runs free. It cannot help itself, but if it is directed, fire can heal and protect like no other thing in this world. That’s why it’s beautiful.”

Selina’s frown went so deep, Alex thought she might start to cry, but instead she asked: “You think fire is beautiful?”

“I do,” Shiani said. “My people do.”

The conversation ended shortly after that, and Selina was quiet for the rest of the night. He could tell she was thinking and that her spirits were down.

“Do you think it helped?” Shiani asked Alex worriedly. “Ooooh… I hope I didn’t make things worse.”

Alex watched Selina carefully while she quietly petted Najyah. “She’s a strong kid. And I’ll help her with all the support I can. I don’t think it fixed everything forever, but I hope it gave her stuff to think about… We’ll see. We’ll see.”

His eyes turned to Khalik.

The time was coming.

Chapter 21

Taking a Chance

The others had departed a couple of hours ago, and Alex spent time with Selina afterward, just talking, relaxing and playing with clay until her eyes started to close.

As she got sleepier, he helped her get ready for bed and tucked her in. He’d stayed for a little while longer, making sure she wasn’t having nightmares.

“I think she’ll be fine,” Theresa said from the doorway. She was leaned against the frame, running a brush through her deep, black hair—which had grown quite a bit longer during their months in Generasi. “She looked pretty happy with you after supper.”

“She was quiet,” Alex said worriedly.

“It’s okay, I’ll watch her during the night,” she said, then jerked her head toward the apartment door. “You going to wash up first?”

“No, I…” Alex made himself look right into her eyes. “I… I think I want to tell Khalik.”

Theresa’s brush paused midway through her hair. “About?”

He sighed. “The Mark.”

A startled silence filled the apartment.

“That…” She whistled. “That’s a big one.”

“Yeah, but like… hold on, don’t want to wake Selina up.”

They quietly stepped out of Selina and Theresa’s room and shut the door.

Alex and Theresa faced each other over the dining room table. The normally brave huntress was fidgeting in the moonlight. It poured through the curtains framing the balcony, and beyond that, across the way, glowed a flickering light set in one of Khalik’s windows.

Despite Alex spending time to make sure Selina was alright, the prince was waiting.

“Are… Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I thought about it,” Alex said. “And…”

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders slightly, then went into the explanation for why he wanted to tell Khalik—including all of his thought processes, fears, and what made him comfortable with the idea.

Theresa listened carefully—her expression resting in her normal ‘deathstalker face’—and she watched Alex very, very closely.

“And that’s why,” Alex finally finished. “…What do you think?”

“I think… Honestly, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Really? Why?”

She sighed. “It’s… I like Khalik, and I trust him, I guess. He really comes through for all of us during your combat class. He has honour, but…” Theresa shook her head. “I just get a bit scared when I think about you telling anyone.”

“You think I shouldn’t do it?”

“No, no,” She shook her head. “Honestly… you’re the one that’s got the Mark, and you know Khalik better than I do. If you want to tell someone, you can. If I had to pick anyone for you to tell, it would be him. I’m just… scared, Alex, is all. This is… this is a big step.”

Alex gently touched her shoulder. “I know, Theresa, I know.”

“But you’re right. ‘Boy Who Refused to Cry Wolf,’” she said. “If this is anything like any of the other old stories, then you’ll keep it a secret until it somehow comes out at the worst possible moment. If you trust him, tell him. And with this cabal thing you all have… it’s not fair if you’re going to protect each other while you’re sitting on something like this.”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes seemed to shine in the moonlight—gleaming black hair wafting around her shoulders from a gentle breeze through the balcony. “Just… call for me if anything happens, okay?”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Alex said.

“I know, but if it does… call for me.”

“Come in,” Khalik said as he opened the door for Alex. The bearded young man hid a yawn behind his hand. Then he gestured to a seat at his table, which they’d moved back to his apartment earlier. A pitcher and two glasses sat on the table.

“Thanks,” Alex said, slowly dropping into a seat.

He heard a rustle and his eyes darted toward the window. Najyah was there; the great bird of prey had tucked her head forward against her body. Her breaths were quiet, and if Alex didn’t know better, he would have thought she was merely a lifelike ornament.

Nerves gnawed at his belly, and he tried to silence that voice screaming at him to just make an excuse and leave.

“Here,” Khalik said, dropping into the chair opposite him. He poured out a couple of drinks and slid a glass toward Alex.

He glanced inside. “Wine?”

“Indeed,” Khalik said. “It is what we drank when I shared my secret with you, so it shall be what we drink when you share yours with me.” He swirled the liquid. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah.” Alex took a deep breath and squared his shoulders—he tried not to wince. Now that the movement had been pointed out to him, he’d never be able to un-notice it. “I’m sure.”

He took another deep breath and a long sip of wine.

This was it.

Khalik raised an eyebrow. “With how tense you look, I almost feel like you are about to tell me you did something horrible.”

Alex looked at him gravely. “I did.”

Khalik froze. “What… what are you about to tell me?”

“I’m a monster. A shapeshifter that—”

Khalik held up his hand with an unamused expression. “No,” the prince said.

“What? I was telling you the tru—”

“You were not.” Khalik shook his head. “You were about to try the same trick on me that I played on you, which I was waiting for.”

Alex cursed internally.

That was one chance for revenge spoiled.

It was alright, though. He was patient and there would be other opportunities.

“Alright, seriously this time.” Alex drew himself up, his voice quieting. “Have you ever heard of the Heroes of Thameland?”

“Only in passing. I think I heard you speak of them to your friend from potions class, Carey. And I have heard it mentioned in passing by some professors and a few students, but that is all.”

“Okay…” Alex took another deep breath and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Well… I’m one of them.”

A long silence followed, then Khalik burst out laughing. “You are persistent! You got me this time!”

“Shhhh!” Alex glanced at the door and balcony. “Not so loud!”

The prince’s laughter continued to roll through the apartment until he noticed Alex’s face. Both his mirth and his smile vanished. “By my gods… You are serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah… So there are these Heroes, right? Five of them, all marked.” He spread his hands. “There’s the Chosen: their leader. The Champion: their warrior. The Sage: their spell caster. And the Saint: their healer and miracle worker.”

He sighed. “And lastly, there’s the Fool: their… servant. And that’s me.”

Khalik stared at him for a moment, then took a long sip from his cup. “If… I think, I remember Carey saying something about this ‘Fool’ being missing. And that’s because… he, or you are here.”

“That’s right.”

“And… how are you here?” Khalik asked.

Alex sighed. “That, my friend, is kind of a long story.”

As it turned out, it was a long story.

Having never told it before, he didn’t realize quite how long. He started with a background on the Ravener and the Heroes. He continued into the history of the Heroes and mentioned the patron saint of Alric: the Traveller.

He then talked about the day he’d gotten the Mark—the plans he’d had, the journey he’d wanted to make, and the life he’d wanted for himself—and how the Mark changed all that.

“Wait.” Khalik held up a hand at that point in the story. “So, it hinders combat, divinity and magic?”

“Spellcraft,” Alex corrected. “While making you learn just about anything else a lot faster.”

“And you have been taking Baelin’s combat course and other courses revolving around spellcraft while dealing with this?”

“It, uh… yeah, it hasn’t been easy.”

“And what was that part about priests being able to sense you?”

“Apparently, it’s from really close. I wouldn’t have gotten out of Alric otherwise.”

“But how did you escape your realm?”

“Well, remember the Traveller?”

“Yes?”

“That’s where her cave comes in.”

Alex continued through their trials in the Cave of the Traveller, about their struggle against the hive-queen. He was brief with his discussion of the dungeon core and humans being able to use it. Khalik didn’t have the background context for why that was such a big deal. He simply nodded with that part of the story, though his eyebrows did rise.

Alex finished with how he’d been struggling and finding loopholes in the Mark’s interference, which he’d been using to successfully get through his classes.

“And that’s basically it,” Alex said. He glanced at the balcony, noticing the moon had shifted its position a fair bit. “That’s my big secret. I’m just hoping to look into this stuff with the dungeon core and pass my courses. Maybe I can get the information to someone I can trust. Someone with power. And yeah…” He thought it over for a moment. “That’s it.”

Alex closely watched Khalik’s face.

The southern prince was silent for a long time. It must have been only for a dozen seconds or so, but to him, it felt like hours. Prince Khalik stared into his wine, his brow furrowed and his fine features highlighted by the moonlight.

In that moment, he looked older—like a wise king pondering some great question instead of simply his peer and friend.

“That… First, I should say I thank you for telling me this. I deeply thank you. I can see now why it was so difficult for you to share. …Wow.”

Alex swallowed. “What… what do you think?”

“What do I think?” Khalik raised a brow. “What is there for me to say?”

“I mean, the whole thing,” Alex said.

“Well, I have to say that the title suits you: you are a fool. A mad, brave fool,” Khalik said in disbelief. “A baker’s assistant sneaking through a cave of silent scorpions—”

“Silence-spiders.”

“Yes, silence-spiders. Sneaking through their cave, blowing up a swarm and the magic statues that guarded your patron saint’s sanctum, blowing a giant monster to kingdom come, and then jumping into an unknown portal that delivered you hundreds of leagues away. It is madness. Sheer and utter madness.”

Khalik shook his head. “And I thought my journey had peril, and it did, but I was surrounded by my finest guards, I had Najyah and I have training in combat with spell and blade. You? You had a magical mark that made you more vulnerable than most and you still tried it. And then—”

He gestured to the south. “You come to the chancellor’s class to learn more about combat. More danger.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have figured out as many loopholes as I have without that class,” Alex said. “Plus, I got to meet you, and Baelin and Thundar and Isolde… and Shiani and Grimloch… Angelar… a lot of people.”

“Even this whole thing. All of this.” The prince gestured to their surroundings. “Coming to a university for wizardry while hindered against spellcraft as you are, but trying anyway. I think most would run, or try to, perhaps merely hide in a village. Or they would go to a town somewhere on the continent and use their skills to enrich themselves.”

“I think that’s what some of my predecessors did. History’s spotty, though.”

“And I am surprised you did not do so yourself. To be branded a servant, and hindered from defending oneself against danger. But you chose a hard path instead of going off to enrich yourself.”

“I just really want to be a wizard,” Alex said.

“I can see that,” Khalik said. “I… have a question.”

“What is it?”

“…Can I see this Mark?”

“Yeah.”

The two young men closed the curtains, and Alex took off his shirt, showing the prince the golden glowing jester’s face. The prince squinted at it. “It has an evil look… Though I suppose it could be uglier.”

“You…” Alex blinked.

“What’s wrong?” Khalik looked up.

“I dunno, just—I didn’t expect you to react like this.”

Khalik shrugged. “I have met powerful folk. I have met men and women my kingdom’s generals call ‘Hero.’ I have met those that claimed to hear our gods. And here I have seen wizards and monsters. I am a prince of Tekezash: I will take my friend’s secret and cherish it, but I will not gawk at you, worship you and judge you.”

The prince rose to his full height, and—for a brief instant—he almost seemed taller than Alex, and his voice filled with royal dignity. “You are branded by your god and you chose another fate. You still seek to help your people, and you protect your family. You put your trust in me, as I have in you. You remain Alex Roth, my first friend at Generasi and my closest here. We are in a cabal together, and we shall protect each other and aid each other.

“You may call upon me while we are in the cabal, just as, someday, I may call upon you. And that is all there is to it. That is what I think, Alex.”

Alex thought he might cry from relief. All of the bad scenarios disappeared from his mind. He’d shared his secret and, in the end, he kept his friend.

No, if anything, he felt closer to this young man than before.

“T-thanks man,” Alex said.

“Think nothing of it,” Khalik said, gripping Alex’s unmarked shoulder. “Now, who else knows?”

“Just my sister, Theresa and her parents. Literally no one else.”

“Good… Do you think you will tell Thundar and Isolde?”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded. “When I get to know them a little better. If I can trust them, I will.”

“And anyone else? A professor?”

“Baelin, I think.”

“Mmmm.” Khalik thought it over for a while, and then yawned. It was very, very late. “That is a good choice. The chancellor is powerful and has no love for gods. If he is on your side, then you will be safe.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Alex said.

Khalik yawned again. “And besides, if you tell one of the professors, then someone can understand you if you struggle… ah, so that is why you struggle with force missile?”

“Exactly,” Alex said, putting his shirt back on. “The Mark’s got its benefits, but it’s frustrating. Let me tell you.”

“I can imagine. I might have tried to cut if off by now.”

Alex shrugged. “It crossed my mind in those first few days, but someone else probably thought of that too in previous generations. All I have to do now is just keep going. Things are going well, and I’m making the best of it. I think Jules might give me more freedom soon, maybe next semester. It’s been alright so far.”

“Well, I hope it stays that way,” Khalik said. “And again… thanks for trusting me.”

The two young men bid each other good night after gripping each other’s hands in farewell. As Alex started down the hall, his step was light and the world felt a little more friendly.

He was glad he’d done it.

His mind returned to what Khalik said about professors not knowing that the Mark might make him struggle. That was a good point.

Hopefully, that wouldn’t come to bite him any time soon.

Chapter 22

Ram’s Forceful Guidance

“Why are you not trying in my class, Mr. Roth?” Professor Ram demanded.

Alex gulped as his imposing professor of force magic watched him pointedly, his face hardened by anger.

“Wh-what do you mean, Professor?” Alex stammered.

It had been weeks since his conversation with Khalik, and while he’d remembered what the prince said about maybe telling a professor so someone could understand if he was struggling, he hadn’t done so. His own worry about force missile remained, but it had retreated into the back of his mind.

For the first time in months, his life had fallen into a calm routine, and when things became calm and regular, people often forgot worries that weren’t immediate.

The campus itself was more tense, though.

Baelin had held another assembly—this one attended by members of Generasi’s ruling council of wizards—where they spoke of a joint investigation into ‘this act of malicious magic.’

In time, only the increased presence of the Watchers of Roal on campus served as the occasional reminder of the incident. Life continued on, and Alex was at peace.

Selina continued to improve as well, though she was a little more thoughtful than before. Quieter, with more frowns when she thought no one was looking. At other times, she was all cheer. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Theresa’s contact had come through, and she’d at last gained a job at the beastarium as an assistant warden. The work wasn’t as glamorous as assisting in the construction of golems—at least, not to Alex—but she said she enjoyed it immensely, and got to take Brutus with her during her shifts.

The cabal met several times since their first meeting. Every member was showing improvements with reaching their goals—the close collaboration was already bearing fruit. Khalik and Alex had grown closer as friends as well, and were hanging out even more than before.

One of the few things he had to complain about in the last little while was that between his training, school and his new job—now that he’d finished the training period—sleep was getting to be a little hard to come by. One other thing was his progress with force missile. Even with Isolde’s help, he was struggling to make significant progress. The time to hand in his report on it was drawing close, and he’d basically resolved to focus on the theoretical aspects of the spell and just take the massive loss in marks for the practical portion.

One couldn’t have everything. At least he’d made good progress with his continued modifications to Wizard’s Hand and learning Orb of Air.

In short, life was good.

And then the professor for FORC-1550 asked him to stay behind after class. Now, Alex sat in his floating desk while Professor Ram floated in front of him.

“What do I mean?” the professor said. “I mean exactly that: why are you not trying in my class?”

“Uh.” Alex’s mind raced, completely caught off-guard. His eyes flicked down to the black force construct that served as Professor Ram’s prosthetic arm. “I mean… I am, Professor.”

“No, you’re not,” Professor Ram countered, his eyebrows knitting close together in a frown. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to his words that was as sharp as a knife. “I don’t think you’re even close to trying, Mr. Roth.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

One of Ram’s dark eyebrows rose on his dark brown face. “I’ve heard of your performance in other classes. I’ve seen where you placed on the honours lists for every other course except this one.”

Alex’s face flushed. “I mean—I mean, I study really hard, Professor—”

“I have no doubt,” Professor Ram said. “You know the theory well. Very well. Your forceball, forcedisk, and Wizard’s Hand all have excellent modifications and your Force Shield is adequate.”

Alex winced at the word ‘adequate.’

“But your speed is abysmal,” Professor Ram said. “Completely impractical when it comes to making use of spells in an actual combat situation, which—considering force magic’s many battlefield applications and your presence in the Art of the Wizard in Combat—is where it seems you want to go.”

His frown deepened. “So why are you not working on your speed? And what’s this with force missile? I haven’t seen any meaningful progress from you, Mr. Roth, and the report is due next week.”

“I… are you reprimanding me?” Alex asked slowly, the heat of anger rising up in him. He was an adult, not a five-year-old child to be badgered by their teacher.

“No. I’m trying to encourage you and save your life,” Ram said simply.

Alex rose up a little in his chair. “I’m pretty sure there’s students doing a lot worse than me, Professor Ram.”

“There are,” the force professor said bluntly. “Much worse. Especially in the theory. You obviously know what you’re doing, Mr. Roth. You couldn’t have done as well as you did on the written midterm if you didn’t. You also wouldn’t have been able to modify your spells if you didn’t.”

“Then, I don’t understand the problem, Professor,” Alex said flatly.

“The problem is that you can do better. Are you taking five courses, Mr. Roth? A full course load?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“That means you topped the honours list for every single one of your courses except for this one,” Ram looked at him pointedly. “The reason I am talking to you, is not because you are doing poorly, but because you are obviously capable of a far better performance. Far better.”

Anger continued to rise in Alex: frustration at the professor and his own situation. He was trying his hardest. He really, really was. It wasn’t his fault the Mark made it so that—if he didn’t use caution, his meditation techniques and his full concentration when casting spells—then he probably would have blown his own head off by screwing up a spell array.

Of course, Professor Ram didn’t know that—couldn’t know that—which, in a way, made the situation even more frustrating. He couldn’t even explain himself.

“I… I am struggling with my speed, Professor, but I’m trying as hard as I can to improve it.”

“That’s not true.”

“Pardon?”

“If anything, your efforts dipped when it comes to force missile.” He watched Alex for a moment. “Speed is one of the most important aspects in spell casting. Do you know how fast a crossbow bolt travels?”

“No,” Alex admitted.

“Between three hundred to four hundred feet per second,” Ram said. “That means—if you notice an attacker with a crossbow trained on you—you’ll have one second to cast Force Shield before it strikes you. And that’s if they’re three to four hundred feet away. If they’re closer? You’ll have that much less time.”

“I…” Alex fought the urge to grind his teeth. “Maybe… I just want to do peaceful things, I mean, Professor—with all due respect—you said in class multiple times that force magic has almost infinite applications besides being used as battle magic.”

“And that is true,” Ram agreed. “How fast is the human body moving once it has been in free fall for one second?”

“Just over thirty-two feet per second, depending on air resistance,” Alex said almost automatically. There were similar questions on the written portion of the midterm.

“Correct.” Ram raised his force construct hand. Both he and Alex shot upward until they were nearly at ceiling height. The young man’s stomach flip-flopped.

The professor pointed at his desk. “Suppose for a moment, Mr. Roth, the magic causing your chair and desk to float failed suddenly. Suppose it was dispelled or some phenomena in the air robbed it of mana, or I dropped dead and the magic circuit lost power or something of that sort. We are roughly thirty-two feet in the air. You would have approximately one-point-four-one seconds before you crashed into the desks below.”

Ram leaned forward. “Say you knew just the right spell that would catch and save you. At your speed, would you be able to cast it in time?”

Alex stayed silent, and beneath his desk, one of his hands clenched into a fist. “…No.”

“Exactly,” Professor Ram said. “All that brain of yours that you’re not applying to my class would be pouring out of your skull, all over the floor until an Orb of Air came along to suck it up for disposal.”

“I actually am trying,” Alex insisted.

“Are you now?” Ram said. “What’s the pass rate for most courses at Generasi?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said, trying to keep the sullenness out of his voice.

“Alright, then what’s the minimum average you need to achieve to pass a first-year course here?”

“…Seventy percent.”

“Correct. And by the way, more than half of first-year students fail first-year mana manipulation. It is an extremely difficult subject. And yet, you were able to Challenge the Exam and skip the rest of the first-year course entirely.”

“I’m just better at it, Professor,” Alex insisted. He took a deep, meditative breath to control the frustration building more and more. “I’m doing my best here.”

“You keep saying that.” Ram folded his arms across his chest and turned to the window. His lips pursed in thought behind his black beard. “And I would believe it too, were it not for the modifications you have made to your spell arrays for several of the spells taught in this class—fairly advanced modifications, which require a lot of detailed work. You are capable, Mr. Roth.”

‘No, I’m not! The Mark’s slowing me down!’ Alex wanted to scream.

“Well, I just have to keep trying,” he said instead.

“Like you are with force missile?” Ram raised an eyebrow. “…I’ve seen it year after year. Students come in, make a certain amount of effort in the first half of the semester, then—if they do well in the midterm—they slack. Then the final utterly destroys them. Or—if they manage to get through that—they find out to their immense disappointment that the second-year course is far more difficult than the first-year course.”

He sighed and his face softened. “Mr. Roth, I know you are capable of more, and quite frankly, your behaviour is baffling. I think—if you truly applied yourself—you could easily make near the top of the honours list after the final exam. To see you reach the midterm and put in less effort is… disappointing. I believe you can excel. Do so.”

Alex’s mind was racing and his heart was slamming in his chest. Rage—at Uldar, Ram, the Mark and himself—flooded him utterly.

“Are we done now?” Alex said, staring at his desk. He didn’t trust himself to look up at the professor. “I have things to do.”

He heard a sigh, which caused him even more frustration.

“It appears that we are,” Ram said.

Alex stalked through the campus with his hands balled into fists. He really, really wanted to hit something and it must have showed, because students he passed took one look at his face and scrambled out of his way.

A big part of him wanted to go back and shout at Ram for minimizing the insane amount of effort he was putting into school. The Mark made things extraordinarily difficult, and he was coping with that as best he could.

Another part of him wanted to tear his sleeve away, show the professor the Mark and tell him exactly what he’d been dealing with. A calmer part of his mind clamped down on the idea.

For one, he couldn’t trust Ram. That wasn’t to say Ram had done anything untrustworthy, but this conversation was literally the longest he’d ever had with the man. Also, a part of him realized that telling Ram might not have even helped him at all.

If someone wasn’t familiar with the Fool or if they weren’t close to him, there wasn’t really a way to convey exactly how hindering the Mark was. Khalik’s reaction had been muted. Respectful, understanding, but muted. Without being Thameish or knowing the history of the Heroes, he just couldn’t comprehend the full significance that being branded with the Fool truly carried.

What would Ram’s reaction have been like? Probably not one full of understanding.

Alex shook his head. That was something else to consider before he told Baelin. Or anyone else.

He cursed viciously beneath his breath.

Nothing would have pleased him more than to be able to cast force magic as quickly as he’d been able to before he’d received the Mark. He would have loved to learn force missile without trouble and then graduate to other more combative force spells.

Even other combat spells.

He’d be lying if he said Isolde’s lightning spells weren’t cool.

But all he could do was his best, and sometimes that wasn’t enough. His mood dropped lower and lower the longer he thought about it. He stopped, taking a deep, meditative breath. Slowly, he focused inward to calm himself—

“Hey, Alex!” a deep, familiar voice called from behind him.

He turned to see the horned form of Thundar walking toward him across the grass, his hooves leaving imprints in the muddy parts. “How are y—whoa.”

“Hi, Thundar. What is it?” Alex asked, continuing to take deep breaths.

“You look like you want to strangle somebody. What happened? Something happen with your sister? Theresa? Class?”

Alex shook his head. “Nothing big.”

“Ah, come on, you can tell me,” Thundar said, shifting his bag on his massive furred shoulder.

“Uh, well…” Alex told Thundar an abridged version of the conversation with Ram, leaving out his frustrations with the Mark.

Thundar snorted. “Well that ain’t right, I’ve seen you trying hard with force missile.” The minotaur looked at him carefully. “As the leader of the cabal—”

“Thundar, not right now, man. Not in the mood.”

“Fine then, as your friend, I say you could use something relaxing.”

“Yeah, I’m working on that.”

“Mmm.” The minotaur wizard gave him a thoughtful stare. “You got class now?”

“No, not until later this afternoon,” Alex said.

“Good. Come with me.” Thundar jerked his horned head toward the south end of campus.

“Why? What’s up? Grabbing some wine?” Alex asked.

Thundar snorted. “It’s the middle of the day, who do I look like, Khalik? No, it’s a club that me and some of the students from body enhancement are into.”

“Hm? What’s it about?”

Thundar struck a pose that caught Alex off-guard: he set his hooves wide apart and began to move his arms slowly, as though passing them through water. “It’s a kind of body movement and meditation exercise from Tarim-Lung. It helps loosen the body, relax it and redirect force.”

“Huh,” Alex mused. “I like meditation, another kind of medi—” Thundar’s words repeated in his mind. “Wait… Did you say ‘redirect force?’”

“Yeah.” Thundar continued to move his arms in easy sweeps. “Redirect the force from within, and outside force too. It’ll help calm you down and feel better.”

“Outside force?”

“Yeah, it’s an exercise, based on a fighting style that lets you redirect opponents. Don’t get too excited, though, this version’s movements are a lot slower and broader. It’s just to loosen the body up. Helps a lot after you’ve used a lot of body enhancement spells.”

Alex could already feel his anger fading, rapidly being replaced by excitement. “Just an exercise that loosens you up and redirects force? That sounds like exactly what I need right now.”

Chapter 23

The Cleansing Movements

The place where Thundar’s club met was in a part of campus Alex had never been before, even though it was fairly close to the beastarium.

Much of wizardry involved horticulture.

There were a number of reasons for this, the primary one being that people needed to grow plants for food, have plant material to weave clothing from, or for various medicines. In his magic lore class, they’d learned that from oral histories, early writings and the accounts of long-lived races, mortals first applied wizardry to the task of creating reliable strong crops and easing the work of farming.

Also, many disciplines in alchemy required magical plants and fungi of various kinds to make potions, tools, wands, staffs and other magical items.

It wasn’t surprising that the University of Generasi would boast one of the most impressive botanical gardens in the entire world. Though it was called a garden, it was more of a small forest, completely contained within magically hardened glass and constantly monitored with spells to control temperature, humidity and sunlight.

Long brass pipes extended over the glass walls and ceiling, complete with nozzles to spray water magically pumped in from an underground source. The glass enclosure’s ceiling rose a hundred feet, leaving plenty of room for the tall, alchemically valuable trees to be grown with little trouble. The scents of fresh earth, spicy fruits and vegetables, earthy mushrooms and fragrant flowers filled the garden’s fertile patches, which were crisscrossed with stone pathways.

It proved to be a popular place. In addition to the staff and alchemical students checking on the various garden patches, many other students bustled through the paths. Some were seated on the many benches, studying or enjoying an afternoon meal. Others strolled along the pathways hand-in-hand, lost in each other’s faces more than in the gardens around them.

At certain areas, there were wide, circular patches of stone where pavilions—made of naturally growing bushes that had been magically twisted together and shaped into buildings—stood available for students or staff. On many of them hung the familiar wreaths of dried grape vines surrounding wooden boards painted with monsters.

It was within one of these they found Thundar’s club.

Students of various ages—though Alex noticed quite a few were older—were stretching upon the stones. They all wore comfortable clothes, and several of them waved to Thundar as he arrived.

“This is Alex,” the minotaur gestured to his friend. “He’s going to be joining us today if all of you don’t mind.”

No one protested, and Alex was greeted with a few welcoming smiles and verbal salutations in half a dozen languages, which Alex returned in those languages.

By now, his practice with different tongues had progressed to the point where he could manage simple conversations in about four different languages, if he counted the common tongue.

He was still working on the accents.

“Do we need mats or something?” Alex asked, eyeing the stone.

“No, this whole thing is aaaall on the feet,” Thundar said. “We’ll be standing, but it can be done sitting if someone needs to. Ah, there’s the leader.”

Alex looked up and saw a young woman approaching. Though she looked human, a pair of large fox tails emerged from her trousers, just around the base of her spine. She was moving quickly and adjusted a pair of spectacles sliding down her nose.

“Sorry I’m late! I was marking and lost track of time.” She dropped her bag beside her and went through some stretches. “Did you stret—Yes, yes, I see that you have been. Never mind. Stupid question.”

Alex and Thundar looked at each other as they went into their own stretches.

Once the entire club finished up, the young woman looked around. “Ah, new faces, new faces, I see.”

Alex followed her gaze. He mustn’t be the only one attending the club for the first time.

“Well, welcome to our little gathering. And welcome to everyone who’s returning.” The leader bowed, and the group bowed to her in turn, with Alex scrambling to do the same.

“For all those who are new, don’t worry about never having done this before; it’s easy to learn. I won’t talk very much through the class, but the movements are slow, relaxed and easy to pick up, even if they are harder to master. Would anyone like to explain a little about what we do in our club?”

An older man toward the front cleared his throat. “This is what’s called the ‘Cleansing Movements.’ While meditation is about focusing on the breath to relax the mind, the Cleansing Movements focus on the body to relax it, exercise it, and redirect bad energy from it.”

“That’s right.” The leader pushed her spectacles back up the bridge of her nose. “And today, we’ll be doing the same as always: two sets of one hundred and eight different movements of the body. After the first set, we will have a fifteen-minute break. Try not to fill the break with too much talking, instead, reflect on your experience and feel your body. If any of you practice meditation, the break would be a good time to do that. Sound good? Alright, let’s get started. Please follow my movements. I will say the name of the move as we go through it together. And remember, learn by observation and do not judge yourself. Open your thoughts and let your body flow into the movements.”

Her tails wiggled. “After the lesson, I’ll have a little talk with the newcomers and correct any major issues I observed.”

For something that was supposed to be relaxing, this had a real ‘sink or swim’ quality to it.

“Oh wait, wait, wait!” she said. “I almost forgot. To all newcomers, would you please take off any shoes, boots or sandals. It’s important to feel the ground with your feet as you’re practicing this, and to have your toes freed up.”

Alex glanced up at Thundar, who grinned down at him and tapped the stones with his hoof. “Your puny ‘foot coverings’ are overrated anyway.”

Alex rolled his eyes as he slid his boots off.

The leader placed her feet together and the rest of the class followed. Scrambling, he copied their position, using the Mark to begin the process of correcting his movements and enhancing his learning.

As he suspected and hoped—despite the exercise being similar to a combat system—it didn’t cause the Mark to react, just as the Spear-and-Oar Dance hadn’t.

In the first movement, the leader spread her feet so they were a little beyond shoulder width apart—a stance similar to one of the positions from Fan-Dor’s Dance—and bent her knees slightly. The class followed, all of them breathing in deeply and breathing out slowly.

As Alex followed her position, he wiggled his toes on the ground. The Mark showed him an image of his toes when they’d just contracted, and he noticed the instructor’s feet were gripping the stones. He adjusted his toes to do the same, and was flooded with more images of his own recent actions, showing that he’d done the right thing.

For a moment, he frowned, wishing the Mark helped him in the same way when he was practicing spellcraft or even combat. He acknowledged that thought and feeling on the inhalation, and let it pass on the exhalation.

It was what it was.

Sometimes things would be easy.

Sometimes things would be frustrating.

He just needed to adapt along the way.

Following the Mark’s instruction, he kept his shoulders down and his neck straight so the top of his head pointed directly toward the glass ceiling of the gardens.

He began following the leader’s arm movements: she extended them forward, keeping a slight bend in the elbows and some slackness in her hands so her palms and fingers were facing down toward the stones. She then began to make a circle in the air with her arms—vertically. Her arms rose up toward the ceiling, then sideways, then back down toward the stones.

After a few repetitions—during which Alex used the Mark to correct his own form—she switched to the other direction, then changed to a different movement, one that almost looked like a guard position.

Pivoting her hips, her right hand pushed up past her shoulder while her left hand dropped down past her hip. Both of her hands looked as though they were pushing aside blows or incoming attackers. At least, that was how Alex imagined it would look for his purpose.

His excitement increased as the club continued to go through the one hundred and eight movements. Each move was slow, relaxed, and timed to coincide with their breathing, and they all involved soft movements that gently extended or contracted the limbs.

Many of the movements were simply relaxing and helped stretch the body. When combined with Theresa’s meditation techniques, the remaining dregs of anger drained away, allowing Alex’s mind to at last relax and his emotions to calm.

The issues still remained. Deep down, he was still frustrated and somewhat embarrassed that he was having such difficulty with force missile as a combat spell. He still hoped some miracle would allow him to have a breakthrough to grasp the spell in time to hand in his report. Then he would show Professor Ram the true results of his labour.

As his thoughts continued to calm, he remembered something Baelin had said: ‘A Proper Wizard knows their limits.’

That applied to him now more than ever. He’d done his best with the Mark and had run into a wall. He was working on overcoming that wall, but—realistically—he wouldn’t be able to do so by the time the assignment was due.

And that was okay.

Ram might think he wasn’t completely applying himself, because it could look that way from the outside. In the end, it didn’t really matter what Ram thought. He was trying his best and he knew that. Alex was succeeding at his own pace, and had enjoyed major successes in many areas he wouldn’t have thought possible when he first received the Mark.

That was something to be thankful for. Focusing on one troublesome spot would only cause him more grief than necessary.

Right now, he was at his limit when it came to combat-oriented spells. In light of that, he would focus on other spells while working to overcome that limit. Slowly and safely.

By the time the club finished the first one hundred and eight movements, he felt much lighter in spirit and fell into his regular meditation routine with ease. One of the feelings he noticed within himself was gratitude: toward Professor Ram and Thundar.

Ram meant well—even if he was harsh about it—and his provocation caused Alex to join Thundar in his club. The ‘Cleansing Movements’ were fantastic. He could see a number of them working very well if he had to deflect physical blows.

It would take time, of course. He would need to learn the movements and adapt the right ones in such a way that they won’t trigger the Mark. He’d found the start of another path.

Besides, when he imagined combining the Cleansing Movement with the Spear-and-Oar Dance, it looked really, really cool in his mind.

He was grateful toward Thundar for showing him this. It helped bring him back to calm and generate a new way to defend himself.

Maybe they should make him leader of the cabal…

An image came to his mind, one of the minotaur barking orders and demanding tribute from the others.

…Maybe he’d just make him a hearty meal instead.

“A meal? I won’t say no to that,” Thundar said as the club finished the practice session. “But… ain’t it a little soon?”

“Never too soon to have good food with better friends,” Alex said as he slipped his boots back on.

“And I’m not going to say no to your cooking.” Thundar laughed, stretching. Alex noticed the minotaur’s eyes following the club leader’s tails around. “But it’s a little premature, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

Thundar looked back at him, then jerked a thumb toward the grape-leaf wreaths on the gazebo. “You want to make another big meal for Festival of Ghosts, right?”

Alex froze. “The what now?”

Chapter 24

Family Time

“You seriously don’t have the Festival of Ghosts up in your homeland?” Thundar asked as they made their way along one of the paths through the botanical gardens. They passed a series of beehives set away from the path that were being tended by wizards wrapped in visible force protection. “Seriously, you never heard of it?”

“Thundar, for the last time no, I haven’t heard of it!” Alex said. “We have Sigmus, the Harvest Festival, Uldar’s Rise, the Heroes’ Festival, the Spring Festival, and… well, some other festivals, but we don’t have a ‘Festival of Ghosts’ and I’ll never know what it is if you keep asking how come we don’t have one in Thameland without bloody well telling me what it is.”

“Fine,” Thundar grunted. “We have it in my homeland, and they have it here in Generasi, but we make our wreaths out of pumpkin leaves instead of grape leaves. Basically, it goes like this.”

He brought his hands up and wiggled his fingers in a spooky gesture. “Every year, the Festival of Ghosts is a two-day celebration of the dead. We give thanks to our ancestors who have passed, and all the people that came before us.”

“Huh, that sounds pretty religious,” Alex said. “I’m surprised it’s allowed on campus.”

“Ain’t no gods involved,” Thundar said. “There’s just living mortals honouring mortals who’ve passed on. It’s about respect, that’s all.”

“Okay, so I see why it’s called ghosts. What’s with the wreaths, then?”

“Protection,” Thundar said. “The old legends say that when a bunch of people all call to the dead at the same time—even just honouring them—it calls to all spirits, including bitter ones, selfish ones or ones that want revenge. We make wreaths out of the harvest as a symbol of life to ward away those that mean us harm.”

“That’s cool,” Alex said. “But why do the wreaths surround monsters?”

Thundar smiled darkly. “To scare ’em. There’s an old story about a farmer who honoured his dead father during a Festival of Ghosts, but his words not only reached his father, but his uncle too, who was wandering the world as a ghost. The uncle’s ghost came to the farmer’s land and terrorized his family, drained the life from his cows and scattered his sheep.”

The minotaur tapped the side of his thick skull. “The farmer got tired of it and remembered how his uncle had died: killed by a troll while stealing his father’s pumpkins one night. So the farmer made a troll costume out of old leather, used bones for the teeth, and rotten tomatoes for the eyes. When the ghost came along, the farmer leapt out, and it scared his dead uncle so badly, he died all over again.”

Thundar bared his teeth in a vicious grin. “Ever since, whenever people celebrate the Festival of Ghosts, they make masks and costumes of frightening monsters to scare away bad ghosts. Make sense?”

“No, but it sounds pretty fun,” Alex said. “I can kinda see why it’s not in Thameland. Monsters swarming from the Ravener is kind of a horrible kingdom ending thing, for the most part.”

He could imagine someone in Thameland wanting to dress up like a dragon or a cerberus, but a silence-spider? Not so much.

“So, you talked about a meal. Is there a feast?” Alex said. “Like, you know… a feastival?”

Thundar groaned. “You’re out of the cabal.”

“You’re not the leader; you can’t kick me out.”

“Make me the leader so I can kick you out.”

“Oh, okay—no. Why would I do that?”

“Damn. Anyway, bad jokes aside. There’s lots of food, drinks and desserts. We eat in life for those in death, leaving an open seat at the table for our loved ones.”

Alex thought about it, imagining dressing up for the festival, or maybe letting Selina dress up and inviting his friends over for food and to honour the dead. Including his parents.

It actually sounded pretty nice.

“Ooooh, I’m going to cook up the feast to end all feasts,” Alex said, rubbing his hands together.

“And I’ll be there to eat the feast to end all feasts.”

The young wizard stared up at the minotaur. “…Can you cook?”

Thundar snorted. “Of course I can cook. What do I look like, a helpless calf?” His eyes widened as an evil grin spread on Alex’s face. “Uh, I mean no—”

Clap!

Alex’s hand clapped the minotaur on the shoulder. “Oooooh, it’s much too late. Welcome to the Roth Kitchen Helpers! I pay in food.”

Thundar groaned, then went rigid. His bovine ears twitched on the side of his head. “Wait… did you hear something?”

Alex focused on the sounds of the botanical garden. There was the rustle of people working in the greenery, as well as students walking the paths and speaking in low voices. He might have heard the sound of small animals.

Rustle.

Alex cocked his ear toward the sound.

Rustle.

There it was again.

“You hear that?” Thundar asked.

“Yeah, sounds like some kind of small animal,” Alex said.

“Yeah… or an imp,” Thundar said darkly.

Alex did a doubletake. “What, you think so?” The young wizard closed his eyes, concentrating his senses on his hearing.

He didn’t hear the beat of leathery wings; a sound the imps made when he’d fought them.

“I don’t hear their wings,” Alex said. “Do you smell anything weird?”

“…No,” Thundar said. “It sounded creepy, but maybe you’re right. Maybe it was just an animal.”

For a moment, Alex imagined all kinds of possibilities: demons, monsters from the Ravener, or even the mana vampire that was stalking the city. He eyed the gardens suspiciously, but nothing strange happened.

Looking at each other and exchanging shrugs, the two student wizards made their way toward the gardens’ exit.

As it turned out, the festival was in a week and Alex was extremely glad he’d found out about it when he had. It seemed like a number of businesses would be closed during the festival, but his shifts at Shale’s Workshop hadn’t fallen on those days.

His work with golems was incredibly interesting. For the most part, his job was to prepare ingredients and organize them for the construction of golem cores, as well as to assist Lagor in the body-sculpting process.

Both his hours sculpting with Selina and his work in Jules’ class really paid off for his new job. He found he was able to slide into both roles feeling well prepared. His sculpting skills had grown since he’d started at the workshop. Before working with Selina, the only thing he could make was, well… a mess. Now he was able to carefully craft some fairly decent-looking sculptures of beasts, buildings and people.

Selina had also grown by practicing and using her own natural talent. He’d never noticed how naturally dexterous she was until he’d worked with her so closely, which made him wonder if his little sister might take an interest in alchemy when she got older.

For the time being, what she was interested in was the Festival of Ghosts.

“I get to dress up like a cool monster?” she nearly screamed in excitement as Alex explained it to her and Theresa over breakfast during the weekend. “And we get to do something nice for Mother and Father?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” Alex said.

“Hmmmm.” Theresa playfully tapped her chin. “What kind of monster would you dress up as, if you could choose any monster?”

“I’d like to be Brutus!” Selina shouted happily.

With a grunt, Brutus startled awake at his name being called from the opposite end of the room. All three heads swivelled, looking around with sleepy eyes.

“That might be kind of hard, what with all those heads,” Alex said. “We might be able to make you a mask that makes you look like a troll or something.”

“Cool, being a troll sounds cool too!” Selina said.

Alex burst out laughing. Great, his sister wanted to be a troll. Maybe she wouldn’t have minded ‘Operation Giant Selina’ after all.

He shook his head.

‘Why do I keep thinking about that?’ he thought. ‘I really needed to work out some of my issues.’

“I don’t think we actually have all the right materials to make you a really cool-looking troll mask, not in a week,” Alex said. “But Thundar said there’re stores in town that’ll be selling masks. We could buy you one. Would you like that?”

“Yeah!” she said.

“Good, now… this festival is celebrating the dead, which means we eat for our lost loved ones. I’m going to make food that our parents would like, which means Mother’s cookies. What about you, Selina, what do you think they would like?”

Selina frowned for a long moment, and for an instant, Alex thought he’d pushed too hard by bringing up their parents and the food they would like so soon after her ordeal with fire.

“Ummmm… Dad used to make that stew, for Sigmus. It had…” She looked up to Alex. “What did it have in it?”

The moment she brought it up, the old flavour instantly came back to him. He could almost taste it. “A lot of things, but let me see. I think he put in lots of potatoes, some nuts, different herbs, venison and beef, some bottles of ale, and lots and lots of cheese. Wow… I remember that now. That stew used to be sooo good. I’m glad you thought of it, little goblin.”

The thing was that Alex didn’t have the exact recipe for his father’s Sigmus stew—not the exact proportions for all the ingredients—but he’d helped him in the kitchen when he made it, so he could use the Mark to experiment and guide him to get them right.

It was good Selina brought that up. He and his father used to take three days making that stew. He’d need to start it early, especially since this would be the first time he’d be making it by himself.

“Alright, I can start that soon,” Alex said.

“Can… Can I help you make it?” Selina asked.

She’d never shown any interest in the kitchen before. It was to the point where he’d wondered if she’d grow up to be one of those folks who just boiled gruel for supper every night because it was quick and easy.

“Are… you sure that’s okay?” Alex said gently. “There’s fire in the kitchen, you know.”

Selina nodded. “I-I know. Maybe I can do something else?”

“Well, there’s plenty of other things. You can wash vegetables, get things from the pantry, get spoons and pots… if that’s okay?”

“Yeah.” She brightened. “I want Mother and Father to eat something that I helped make.”

Alex felt a lump swell in his throat.

‘Alright, don’t start crying in front of your sister. Come on,’ he thought. ‘Hold it together, hold it together. Don’t look at her, look at Theresa, she’s hardened, she’ll—’

Alex looked over to the brave huntress, to find the young woman turned away with tears shining in her eyes.

Oh.

He swallowed. “Well, little goblin, I’m sure they’ll love that. Anything you want made, Theresa?”

She nodded. “Grandfather loved fried fish.”

Alex straightened. “Then I’ll be frying up all the fish we could ever eat, and that he could ever eat.”

“Thank you, Alex.” Her face softened. “And I’ll help make it too.”

“Then it’ll be a family affair.” He glanced at their three-headed friend. “Except for Brutus, I guess.”

One of the cerberus’ heads snorted in annoyance. The big dog had almost been back to sleep when he’d heard his name again.

“Thundar agreed to help too,” Alex said, leaving out the part where he’d basically press-ganged him into it. “So we’ll have lots of hands.” He frowned. “Only thing is, the kitchen is going to be busy. But we’ll work it out. It’s our first festival in Generasi, after all.”

A large smile took Alex Roth’s face.

“Let’s make it one to remember!”

Chapter 25

The Masks that are Worn

The mood in Generasi City was a strange one: excited, sombre and tense all at once.

Excitement came from the upcoming Festival of Ghosts. Now that it was only a few days away, the entire city seemed to have transformed in preparation for it. In addition to the wreaths, the buildings were now brimming with various decorations.

Ones that were kind of spooky, in Alex’s opinion.

Fake cobwebs—crafted from simple spells—draped between houses and shops like macabre clotheslines. Hanging from them were illusions of giant, black spiders with images of white skulls designed on their chests. Skeletons carved from wood—some of which looked decidedly real—were perched on porches of houses and businesses. Some buildings even had summoned imps flitting about the tops of the buildings, making spooky noises at passers-by.

The bakery across the street from Shale’s didn’t have any decorations, but was getting so rundown, it looked like a haunted house anyway.

There must have been a mask merchant on nearly every street corner, with large packs on carts filled with frightening lifelike masks. The vendors even wore masks; enchanted to move as they spoke or when their expressions changed.

While there was a festive atmosphere—similar to that in Alric during Sigmus time—there was also that sombre undercurrent. Some people didn’t take part in hanging spooky decorations or enjoying the cheer; instead, they were solemn, wearing clothing of all black or all white, and moving like attendees of a funeral.

Beneath even that was the air of tension.

The mana vampire attacks had not stopped and—between that and the demonic attack on campus—the city guard was on high alert. Every block had a patrol of hard-eyed guards with weapons close at hand. Despite the persistent attacks, there were no leads on the mana vampire, and with its shapeshifting ability, everyone was a suspect.

Though people still conducted business and went on with daily life, there was a suspiciousness in their eyes. People tended to stay together in groups in open spaces, and hurried home when the sun began to get low.

“Excuse me!” Alex called as he walked up to one of the mask merchants. The crowd in the street was thinning, and the merchant looked just about ready to pack things up for the day. “Got time for one more customer? Or are you closing?”

The woman’s mask—looking like a grinning demon’s face—shifted to one of open welcome. “Not at all, not at all, young man! Please, come look at my wares!”

Alex paused in front of the wagon: hooks had been hammered into all of its sides, and from each hung a different mask. It made the wagon seem like a beast with a hundred faces, and Alex was looking for a particular face.

“What sizes do you have?” Alex asked.

“I can adjust the size on the spot for children, adults, or even a giant if you’re making a gift to one of the large folk,” the mask seller said, glancing at the position of the sun and continuing to pack her cart. “You can choose any you’d like and I’ll be sure it fits. Will you be buying for yourself, sir?”

“Yeah, and for two others,” he said, running his finger along the grotesque masks of leather and smooth, spell-treated wood. He was also getting one for himself and Theresa. Though to be fair, Theresa didn’t know he was getting her one. “One for a child and a couple of adult ones.”

His finger paused on one particular mask and he stifled a gasp. It was a leather jester’s head, complete with grinning face and bulging eyes, reminding him uncomfortably of the statue of the Fool in Alric.

‘Nooooope,’ Alex thought. ‘Too close for comfort.’

He moved on, his finger pausing on a mask of a long-snouted dragon. Alex smiled and tapped it. It had to be this one. Who didn’t dream of being a dragon at least once?

Now, for Theresa…

He was tempted by a few different masks, settling on the image of a snarling wolf. She and Brutus would match, which he could point out to her and have his fun at the same time. A row down he found a leather troll mask: green-scaled, with a grinning mouth filled with fangs behind two massive tusks.

“I’ll take these three.” He pointed to the dragon, the wolf and the troll. His finger tapped the last one. “Can I get this re-sized for a young child?”

“Right away, sir,” said the mask merchant. “May these masks keep dark spirits away as you honour your ancestors.”

After carefully putting the masks in his bag so they wouldn’t get ruined, he left the merchant to go put on a different mask: the protective face-covering at Shale’s to start his evening shift.

“Welcome, Alex,” Lagor said as Alex stepped into the golem core workshop room. The orc crafter was bent over a table, looking at an ingredients list and construction plans. His mask had been temporarily painted to look like a snarling, long-beaked monster in honour of the festival. “Hope you’re ready to work. Carmen’s sick, so I had to send her home. It’ll just be you and Minervus.”

‘Oh good,’ Alex thought sarcastically.

“Oh, good,” Alex said with false sincerity. “At least we aren’t down to one.” He stepped up beside the crafter. “So… we’re finally starting one.”

“Yep,” Lagor said. “Last-minute order. Wants the core built before the festival too—paying double for the rush job.” Lagor shook his head. “Dunno where people get that kind of money. Sometimes I wonder if I went into the wrong field.”

Alex wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He’d heard Professor Jules talk about what a golem crafter’s wages usually were. To Alex, they were more than enough for almost any purpose.

A senior crafter like Lagor might’ve been able to pay for Alex’s entire tuition, room and board for Generasi without breaking a sweat.

“For what it’s worth, I think you made the right choice,” Alex said seriously. “So, what kind of golem core will we be making?”

Alex had to suppress his excitement.

This would be the first time he’d be helping Lagor start the process to make a golem core. He’d assisted with different steps along the way, but now, he could watch and help with the entire process from the beginning.

That experience would be worth its weight in gold when it came time to build his own.

“A clay golem today, plain and simple. Body’s a big one, though: sixteen-footer. We’ll need to make sure it’s got extra mana capacity to handle a burden that big.”

Alex whistled. “Okay, so what can I do?”

“Start prepping the materials while I warm up the cauldron. Make sure you take freshly treated quartz. Since this is going to be a rush job, we’re going to need the reaction to take fast.”

“Got it,” Alex said, already heading for the storeroom.

When he came back—having gotten the materials ready and bringing them using both hands and his Wizard’s Hand spells—Minervus had arrived and was helping Lagor prep his tools and heat up the cauldron.

“Ah, you got the one with the red grip, good,” Lagor said to Minervus—whose mask was painted to look like a grinning gargoyle.

Alex and Minervus nodded at each other without exchanging a word. Minervus hadn’t really done anything problematic in the last few weeks at work. Alex was still ready for him to try something. Like cause some kind of accident and blame it on one of the other assistants, take credit for something he didn’t do, or pull some other nefarious scheme.

But that proverbial knife in the back hadn’t come. Minervus, the entire time, had been a cooperative co-worker. He knew his stuff. Did his job. Kept quiet, unless it came time to talk to Lagor about something.

Still, whenever Minervus looked at him, he would be civil, but there was a chilly unfriendliness in his eyes.

If Lagor noticed, he didn’t say.

Or he didn’t care, so as long as the work was done well.

Together, the three of them started on the beginning of the golem core’s construction; several of the ingredients were heated in the cauldron and bathed with mana to liquify them. Once that mixture was good and hot, Lagor had Alex add a binding agent to prep it for the rest of the ingredients, and Minervus added the quartz as a mana conductor.

Together, they stirred the solution, carefully adding mana at different points in the process to facilitate the correct reaction.

While they were doing so, Lagor asked, “Either of you doing anything special for the Festival?”

Minervus shrugged. “Same thing I do every year. I’ll go to the sea and honour my grandmother, and then my friends and I will head to the city centre for the parade.”

Alex wasn’t sure what surprised him most. The fact that Minervus sounded sincere, that there was a note of sadness in his voice when he spoke of honouring his grandmother, or that he somehow had friends.

Alex shook his head. Then again, there were all kinds of people in the world. He found Carey London absolutely exhausting, but it was rare to see her apart from her entourage of friends and club members… and probably a few admirers now that he thought about it.

It took all kinds, really.

“And what about you?” Lagor asked Alex.

“Well, as soon as I’m done with this shift, I’m going home to start cooking.”

He explained a little about honouring his parents and the care he needed to take with his father’s stew.

“Hah, that sounds like my grandpappy’s fermented shark.”

“What now?” Alex asked.

“A dish he found out about back when he was travelling,” Lagor said. “You gut a certain kind of shark, prep it, then bury it in the sand with rocks on top. Leave it for six to twelve weeks and you got yourself a unique dish.”

“Oh, wow,” Alex said, trying not to gag at the thought. “How does it taste?”

“When I first had it? Terrible. It smells like ammonia.”

Alex made a face. They used ammonia to clean and treat certain golem core ingredients before setting them in the storeroom—the smell wasn’t what he would call ‘appetizing.’

“Bit of an acquired taste,” Lagor said. “Now, I’d kill to have some of it again. Too bad the old man took the recipe to his grave.”

“Hmmmm.” Minervus frowned. “It sounds like kæstur hákarl from the north-western island of Olfusand. They prepare that sort of dish there.”

Lagor winced at Minervus. “It’s similar, but the recipe’s not quite the same. I think he modified it a little… But how’d you know that?”

“Yeah.” Alex jumped in, his dislike for Minervus overcome by his interest in food. “Where did you find that out from?”

“My parents are what you could call culinary buffs,” Minervus said. “Fine food is the vice of my family, and we make it our business to know where interesting dishes come from. I’m terrible in the kitchen myself, but I do enjoy different foods when I find them.”

“Huh,” Alex said. He’d learned a little more about the other young man. In a way, he was like the rest of the city during the Festival of Ghosts: someone who wore many masks.

Alex still didn’t like or trust him, but he felt like he knew him a bit better. Though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, except for all the learning Alex managed to squeeze in. It was one thing to hear how a golem core was put together from grad students, or work on partially completed cores, or sculpt the bodies. It was an entirely different thing to be involved from the very beginning of the process.

Alex kept his ears open and constantly used the Mark throughout the night, slowly adjusting how he used his mana conductor to guide the alchemical processes in the core. At the start, he was already pretty good with the process due to all of his Mark-enhanced practice at alchemy, but by the end, he’d become quite proficient.

Lagor even glanced at him and asked, “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

At the end of his shift, Alex rushed to a new notebook, which had a drawing of a large, smashy-looking figure on the front, titled ‘Golem Plans.’

He flipped through to the first few pages and found what he was looking for: the beginning schematics for his own golem. He wrote in a few notes and drew lines to the diagram of the golem core beside the golem itself.

Alex reread his plans.

If he wanted to construct a golem from scratch right now, he could probably do it. It wouldn’t be very good—he still needed to work through more of the process—but he could do it.

Only, if he was going to go through the effort of building his creation, he wanted to build the best version he could manage.

He glanced at a side note he’d circled multiple times. It was a design feature he wasn’t quite sure he’d build into his golem. On the one hand, it might be impractical. On the other, he couldn’t access the materials necessary to build one of the more powerful stone or iron golems.

The one ingredient necessary for what he was considering might be acquirable from Jules’ lab.

Nodding to himself, he circled the word again.

Evolution.

Chapter 26

Nostalgic Recipes and Warnings

One evening later, Alex was in front of a cauldron, but this time, he was making food instead of magical golem cores. He sliced beef and venison into a mixing bowl, then poured in a mixture of wine, salt, pepper and dried thyme. These would marinate over the next few days, softening and sucking in all that flavour.

On the morning of the meal, he would sear the meat in an iron skillet to seal in both the juices and the marinade, then stew the whole thing for hours on a low simmer, adding more vegetables and herbs at the proper time.

If he added the vegetables too early, they’d disintegrate into mush, but if he dropped them in too late, their consistency wouldn’t be as soft as the dish called for.

In another part of the kitchen, Thundar grumbled under his breath—something about slave-drivers and ‘being tricked’—as he cut and finely grated apples for a sauce.

Behind him, Theresa squealed and giggled as Selina splashed her with the water she was using to wash some of the harder vegetables.

“Stop it!” Theresa said. “You’ll get it on the fish!”

“Yeah, and then our lord and master would get mad at us,” Thundar grunted.

“That’s exactly what you were looking to be when you demanded to be head of the cabal,” Alex said.

“Yes, but I want to be the one giving the orders, not carrying them out.”

Alex shook his head, thinking back to the fish.

He would be marinating a wide variety of fillets and fish steaks: tuna, swordfish, eel, and flounder. When he’d stopped by the campus fish market, he’d been stunned. Generasi’s location on the sea made its fish market a trove of rich and fresh seafood, most of which he’d never even heard of back in Thameland.

That also meant he didn’t have any experience with cooking some. He’d taken out a recipe book from the library to figure out how to best fry them all. From the fancy tone of the cookbook, he had a feeling the author-chef would probably try to strangle him for breading and frying some of the cuts. That was okay. He’d fought demons, the Ravener’s spawn, elementals and more.

An angry chef would be the least of his worries.

He thought of McHarris. More than four months ago, he had been Alex’s biggest worry in life.

It was remarkable how quickly things could change.

Now, he was in a wizard city that was preparing for a Festival of Ghosts, on alert for monsters. And here he was making his father’s unique stew for that festival after just finishing up decorating his apartment.

It really was insane how life changed so utterly.

His brow furrowed a little.

And soon, campus would change again.

In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, the semester was already coming to a close. Once the festival was finished, it would be time for final exams. He’d handed in his report for force missile and—in the end—hadn’t quite gotten the spell down before the assignment was due.

All in all, he didn’t consider it too big of a loss.

Though Ram would disapprove, the issue remained that he wouldn’t be able to use force missile in combat. If the Mark gave him so much trouble for trying to learn it, he shuddered to think what it would do if he tried to aim and fire it.

He would still continue to work on it with Isolde’s guidance—no sense in throwing aside effort already put in—but Ram’s class had moved on to the final spell of the semester: Lesser Force Armour.

That would improve his defences immensely.

He thought back to the imps and how they might have gotten around his shield if they’d all come at him at once. Lesser Force Armour would provide that extra layer of protection against powerful opponents or those that came at him in a swarm.

His work with Orb of Air was going well too, and he was sure he’d have it by the beginning of the next week.

“Alex!” Theresa whined playfully. “Come get this little goblin away from me. I can’t work like this.”

“I’m not a little goblin; I’m a great, big troll! Raaaawr!” Selina growled at Theresa, sending the young woman into endless giggling.

“As a big troll, you should eat your brother,” Thundar said. “And free us from his tyranny.”

“Silence, servant!” Alex grinned. “Concentrate on those apples, and make sure to combine it with the exact portion of honey I wrote down or you shall regret it.”

“I swear I’m going to shove you in that pot and serve you for the festival.”

“Thundar, don’t you like cooking with us?” Selina asked the minotaur, her green eyes wide and filled with innocence. “Does it bother you that much?”

Alex glanced over his shoulder to see Thundar freeze in front of his cutting board. If it weren’t for the fur, he was sure he would have seen all the colour draining from the minotaur’s face.

“Uh… uh… well, the thing is…” he stuttered.

“Hah! Let us see you get out of this one!” Khalik called from near the kitchen door.

“I am going to strangle you with your own beard!” Thundar yelled at him.

From outside—sunning himself in the insula’s courtyard—Brutus raised his heads. One looked at Thundar grating apples, the other at Khalik, and the last at Najyah, who was perched on a table nearby.

Something seemed to pass between the two animals.

If Alex didn’t know better, he could have sworn he saw the giant eagle shrug her shoulders and the cerberus shake his heads before he lay back down.

Two days of preparation had paid off, and the kitchen was filled with the scent of his stew. Unfortunately, it was also filled with the scents of a half-dozen other dishes.

While he had started the preparations for the festival feast early, most of the other students at the insula hadn’t had the same idea. Now, on the first day of the festival, a number of them had piled into the kitchen, some having pre-booked it like Alex, while others were trying to sneak in with a short: “I’ll only be a few minutes. I just need to do this one thing!”

Alex shook his head. ‘Only be a few minutes’ was an expression not used in the kitchen unless the steps to the dish one was making could be summed up as ‘1. Cut bread. 2. Put butter on bread. 3. Get out of kitchen.’

He noticed a number of students looking his way with envy and hunger written across their faces as the scent of his father’s stew found its way to them, as well as the aroma of the multiple pumpkin pies Alex had going in the oven.

The pumpkin pie puree had been prepped a day earlier by cutting sugar pumpkins in half, scooping out the seeds, dropping butter into each half, and baking them. After, the baked flesh was scooped out and mashed with sugar, spices, cream, eggs and brandy to make quite the aromatic puree. Setting that aside in the cold storage in his apartment, he’d then baked the crust the day before as well.

Now, the pies were baking away, combining with the scent of his stew to lend the kitchen a festive, straight-out-of-Alric sort of air. On a baking sheet near the pies were rows of his mother’s prized cookies, ready to be put into the oven.

He’d already mentally set aside Theresa’s portion, and there was one more special portion he’d be setting aside too.

The other scents were also mouth-watering, but he could proudly say that his dishes drew some very hungry looks and playful comments asking for invitations to his meal.

There was a real frenzied camaraderie among the cooks. Some dishes were cooked to perfection, while others were scorched, undercooked, or did not look anything like what they were supposed to be.

Alex smiled evilly, wondering how jealous his fellow cooks would be when he combined fresh cream with crystallized honey and an aromatic magic potion he’d discovered, along with spices that had improved his desserts: pure vanilla extract. His plan was to use Wizard’s Hand to rapidly whip the cream for the pie topping instead of doing it by hand.

The power and precision he’d gained with the spell would let it do an even better job than he could ever do himself.

And that wasn’t even taking into account the marinated fish he’d be frying up fresh, right before his guests came over. It was going to be glorious. All these familiar scents filling the air brought back memories of home.

His home before the fire.

The hardy warmth of his father’s stew would fill the house while the wind passed through the shutters outside. Alex would play in the snow, making snowmen, his parents cooking inside. When he finally got too cold, he would come in to help his father after warming by the fire.

He sighed wistfully.

Tonight would be fun, but there would be a nostalgic edge to it. He glanced over at the oven. Soon, he’d be able to put the cookies in and then he could take a share to someone he’d promised a taste of his cooking.

Thm. Thm.

Alex knocked on one of the open doors to the great office.

“Come in,” Baelin said from within, looking up from his desk. “Oh my, and what is this I see? A dragon before me! Have you come to steal my treasures for your hoard, dragon?”

The chancellor was dressed all in black robes and wore a strange cross between a mask and a helmet that looked to be some sort of beast’s skull that had been turned into a mask. On a hunch, from inside his dragon mask, Alex threw a glance toward Baelin’s shelf of ‘trophies.’

Sure enough, one of the skulls was missing.

‘Holy shit,’ Alex thought. ‘That’s hardcore.’

“I didn’t think I’d find you here, Chancellor,” Alex said, looking down at the other offices in the hallway. Every single doorway was closed and the hall was silent. “I thought maybe I’d take a chance, or leave these—” he waved a small sack back and forth, “—in your mailbox. What’re you doing still hard at work during the festival?”

“To be blunt? Working.” Baelin chuckled, setting aside his pen. “I’ve been attempting to finish a few last affairs before I go celebrate. But what of you? Should you not be celebrating with the living and honouring those who have passed?”

“Yeah, I’m going to do that, but I promised you some baked goods.” He handed the chancellor the sack of his mother’s cookies. “And I just finished a batch of goodies: my late mother’s recipe. Thought I might see if you’d enjoy them.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you.” Baelin looked at the cookies with undisguised anticipation. At that moment, he did not look so ancient. His eyes turned to one of the side tables, where a small mountain of gifted sweets, dried fruits, pickled vegetables and cured meats rose. “Some of the staff, a few students and much of the junior school also made sure I wouldn’t go hungry during the festival.”

His goat-like eyes twinkled. “How fortunate for me, though I might need to be rolled around by the time the two days are finished.”

“Ah, well, there are worse fates,” Alex said. “Are you going to teleport to your family?”

“I will only be honouring my family. I was born so long ago, anyone that could claim blood relation with me might as well be a stranger,” Baelin said, though he glanced at a massive painting upon the wall. It was truly immense—taller and wider than Grimloch was—and depicted a massive round table crafted of obsidian, surrounded by chairs. All was encircled by a series of black monoliths that must’ve risen at least twenty feet high, if Alex was getting the scale right. Above it all was a black sky dotted by stars.

A strange look took Baelin’s features. “I will be celebrating the festival with some friends. They don’t celebrate themselves, which makes it so they will not be spending time with family. And so, they can spare an evening for this old goat.” He chuckled.

“Oh? Where are they from?” Alex asked, eyeing the painting with interest. “We don’t celebrate it in Thameland, and that’s pretty far, so are they farther away than that?”

Baelin laughed hard at this. “Even if I were to tell you the names of their realms, they wouldn’t have any meaning to you.”

Alex thought back to the sights he’d witnessed in the Cave of the Traveller. Even with access to the school’s library, and the Mark to enhance his navigation and learning ability, he still had no idea where most of the doors opened to.

The cosmos was truly a massive place, it seemed.

“Well.” Alex tore his eyes away from the painting to find Baelin watching him in amusement. Alex adjusted his dragon mask. “I’d better leave you to your work, since it’s important enough to keep you from your friends.”

“Thank you, and I’ll be sure to enjoy these cookies in the name of my ancestors, family and your late parents.” Baelin gestured with the cookies before placing them down on the desk. Alex noticed the bag begin to untie itself. “And don’t let this business with the demon and the mana vampire bother you too much. The reason I am still working is to ensure that you all remain safe.”

“Oh? I thought the mana vampire was a problem in the city. Did someone on campus get attacked?”

“No, but a student’s family member was gravely injured, and so I thought I would have a look and see if I might be able to help that student in seeking justice.” He made a disgusted noise. “Foul creatures. They think they are our natural predators, and admittedly, their constitution does make them difficult opponents to find. Very few creatures in the cosmos are so utterly immune to magical attempts at location as they are.” He snorted. “They even melt when you destroy them, so one cannot even collect a trophy.”

He paused, then slowly looked at Alex. “But you would know that, wouldn’t you, Mr. Roth?”

“I’m sorry?” Alex asked, having a suspicion where this was going.

“Imagine my surprise when I looked at the city records to find a bounty had been collected on a mana vampire by one young Alex Roth.” Baelin folded his hands in front of him. “You said you knew one spell at the time too… How very interesting.”

Alex swallowed. “Yeah, well, it was starving and weaker, and I got lucky.”

“Indeed. Fair warning. As the attacks go on, the bounty on this creature is rising, tempting others to go and hunt it. Please do not be so foolhardy as to go after it yourself. From the way this one has evaded detection and the pattern of its attack, it is likely old, powerful and cunning. Know your limits, and let professionals handle it.”

Alex nodded vigorously. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’m going to stay as far away from this thing as I possibly can.”

He would really need a damned good reason to try something that reckless. It would be a shame if the next Festival of Ghosts were to come around next year, where he would be one of the dead being honoured by his friends and family.

Chapter 27

The Festival of Ghosts

“Now this is a spread.” Thundar laughed, eyeing the mountain of steaming food.

Everything had been laid out on wide platters and set on tables Alex borrowed from the university for the occasion. Despite their length—suitable for a banquet hall—they were filled to bursting with fine-looking cuisine.

At the centre of one of the tables was a massive copper cauldron where Alex’s stew steamed. The thickened, slowly simmered dish was filled with chunks of tender beef, venison, and vegetables all topped with a deep layer of melted cheese. Wondering if there might be some sensitivity for his friend if he served the dish, he’d asked Thundar if beef would be a problem.

“Ain’t gonna lie, it creeps some minotaurs out,” Thundar had said. “And some even have a whole special diet that avoids the stuff, but I don’t really mind it. That’d be like a fish beastman not eating other fish. What else are they gonna eat from the ocean, seaweed?”

Surrounding the cauldron were Theresa’s fried fish fillets placed near bowls of various sauces. Near to these, Thundar had displayed a whole smoked ham glazed in sweetened apple puree and decorated with slices of a candied fruit Alex had never seen before: pineapple.

Yet these weren’t the only dishes brought to the table. His other guests had their own departed to honour, and so each brought foods to add to the feast.

Orders had been placed at the school restaurants: Isolde picked up a small mountain of potato pancakes with sour cream, a batch of pretzels served with sweet mustard, and slices of a hearty, smoked sausage. Prince Khalik brought a type of spongy flatbread from his homeland, along with ground meat sautéed in an aromatic spice blend, as well as several pots of different types of brewed coffees.

Shishi made a dish of stuffed mushrooms, braised with vegetables and chicken, served on a mound of scented rice. Svenia and Hogarth had been given leave by Isolde to have a celebration with other friends they’d met on campus, and Shiani and Angelar were spending the Festival of Ghosts with their own friends or loved ones. One guest who Alex had not expected to answer his invitation was Grimloch.

“Nua-Oge’s with her friends,” the giant shark man said upon arrival, carrying a massive platter of fire-roasted eel. “They’re not my friends, and you make better food, so here I am.”

He’d joined them at one end of the table—sitting on the grass instead of a chair because of his towering height.

Another table filled with desserts was set up nearby: Alex’s pumpkin pies and cookies were on display, and Thundar had added apple cake to them. Of course, Theresa’s portion of cookies had been set aside and hadn’t made it to supper. Others contributed their own desserts to the spread, filling the table with delightful-smelling treats. The only thing that wasn’t baked were pitchers of a refreshing drink called ginger beer, which the university provided to everyone for the festival.

The masks people wore were interesting too.

Selina hummed in her troll mask, while Theresa self-consciously fidgeted in her wolf mask. Thundar sported a leather mask of a demon—with holes at the top for his horns to fit through. Khalik wore a wooden mask of a snarling beast Alex couldn’t put a name to, while Isolde’s, also wooden, was painted to look like the snarling face of an air elemental. Shishi’s mask was stark white with a wide grinning mouth and strange, protruding, tusk-like fangs.

Grimloch hadn’t gotten the concept of masks and didn’t bother with one.

“I’m scary enough for any ghost,” he’d said proudly.

Alex didn’t disagree with that statement. At all.

Brutus just came as himself—some would think that was scary enough—while Khalik placed Najyah’s leather hood on her.

“Alright, Thundar.” Alex looked at the minotaur now that everyone was seated. “So… how does this all work exactly? We’re here in our masks and everything and, sorry to everyone who knows what’s going on.” He turned the snout of his dragon mask to everyone at the table. “But I have no idea.”

“We honour the dead now,” Thundar said. “With our masks on to frighten away ghosts of evil folk that might be called by our words. We keep those we’re honouring in our minds, and dedicate the food we eat to them. But, we have to start two hours before sunset, which is about nowish. Then we’ll need to be finished eating and have our masks back on by the time sunset comes. And before we can each go home, we need to go somewhere as a group so the dead don’t follow any of us ’cos we’re alone. From there, that’ll mark the end of the first day of the festival.”

“Hmmm, you know a lot about this,” Theresa noted, scratching beneath her wolf mask. “Why don’t you lead us then, Thundar? If that’s alright with everyone.”

There was a murmur of agreement from around the table, and Thundar seemed to swell a little bit with pride.

“Alright, bow your heads,” the minotaur said. “Close your eyes and think about who you’re honouring with this meal.”

Alex did as his friend instructed, bowing his head and closing his eyes beneath his dragon mask. A small hand slipped into his from beside him: Selina’s. He gave her hand a quick squeeze.

“Oh, honoured ancestors,” Thundar’s deep voice begin. “Lost friends and family, fallen members of the herd: we think about you through the year, but during this feast, we bring you into the centre of our thoughts and we dedicate this food to you. We eat for you so that—through us—you can taste mortal sustenance again. Please watch over us throughout the year and please keep those that might harm us from death’s plane away from us.”

He paused, letting his prayer resonate. “Please bring forward whoever you’re dedicating this feast to in your thoughts.”

Images of Alex’s mother and father came to mind. They were more vivid than they had been in a long time. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been thinking about them so much lately, or if it was the atmosphere of the festival, or nostalgia from the scent of their dishes. Maybe it was the Mark’s habit of drawing up sharp memories that enhanced them. But he could hear their voices more clearly in his mind and noticed details about them he’d forgotten over the years.

“Now, say out loud who you want to honour,” Thundar said.

“Mother and Father,” Alex said quietly.

He heard the murmur of the others around the table, but couldn’t hear what they said specifically over his own words.

“Let the dead join with the living in feast from beyond,” Thundar pronounced. “And let our memories of them grow happier and stronger. Alright, let’s begin. All of you can open your eyes and take off your masks. And—Holy shit!”

Alex’s eyes snapped open to find everyone else staring at Thundar—who was looking up with his mouth hanging open—except for Khalik, whose mouth wasn’t gaping, but he was also staring up at the sky.

Alex turned to look. “Oh, by Uldar!” he cried, holding Selina’s hand tighter.

The evening sky was filled with glowing beings drifting through the air, like silvery cloth pulled from a clothesline. There must have been hundreds of them flitting silently through the air. Most were humanoid, but many bore the shapes of animals and other beasts. Some had a peaceful look about them while others were covered in signs of violence.

“Ghosts,” Khalik said. “My brother spoke of this, but to see it is incredible.”

“You knew this’d happen?” Thundar said incredulously.

“Should we run?” Isolde was halfway out of her chair, her face pale.

“Wonder if ghosts taste like chicken,” Grimloch rumbled.

“It is fine, it is fine.” Khalik waved them back down. “Generasi is so full of magic that lost spirits can more easily manifest themselves here, especially on this night sacred to them with our calls going out to the dead. They cannot harm us.”

“Are you sure about that?” Theresa said stiffly, grabbing for a silver table knife. She was staring at one particular ghost of some kind of monster: a serpent-like creature with nine heads that had snapping jaws. “They sure look like they can harm us.”

“They cannot,” Khalik assured her. “At least, according to my brother. They simply are weak, normally invisible spirits that are made visible on this night. Besides, the rituals we do for the festival will protect us, and there are wards on Generasi that help stop most ghostly mischief. If anything, we do them a favour: giving any spirits that were trapped in this world the strength to move on to the next.”

“Is… are our families up there?” Selina asked hopefully.

Khalik shook his head, eyes full of sorrow. “Only those that were too weak to pass over, those that have lingered near this place, or those that have died very recently are in the tide above. I am sorry, little one.”

“That’s too bad,” Selina said a little sadly.

Khalik reached over and patted her shoulder.

“Well, then,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “We have until sunset to put all of this away!”

Despite their uneasy focus on the ghosts floating above, the guests glanced around to see that many of the other students picnicking on the campus green had begun enjoying their meal without a second look at the ghosts.

Alex glanced at Theresa, who was staring at the sky with her deathstalker face. She caught his eye, and they exchanged shrugs and started eating. Selina stared at the sky a little longer—her expression a puzzle of different emotions—and then she also jumped into the feast.

Soon, the air was filled with sounds of appreciation and high spirits. Alex noted with a degree of self-satisfaction that—after tasting it once or twice—his guests immediately dove for his father’s stew before it could run out. Even the fine dishes made by Generasi’s expert chefs were attacked only after his friends filled their bowls with seconds of the stew.

Once the stew and fish he’d helped Theresa fry disappeared—which didn’t take long—they tore into everything else heartily.

Shishi’s mushroom dish didn’t last long, and neither did Khalik’s and Isolde’s offerings. After everyone took a serving of Grimloch’s fire-roasted eel, he made short work of the rest, sucking it back like a mana vacuum.

Alex had to admit, Thundar was a pretty good cook. His ham’s smoky flavour blended well with the tart sweetness of his apple puree glaze, and the yellow candied pineapple added pops of sweetness to the cured meat.

“Thundar, you gotta share this recipe with me,” he said appreciatively, shoving a chunk into his mouth. “I’d eat this every day.”

“Then you’d weigh more than him.” Thundar jerked his head toward Grimloch.

The shark man grunted. “He could use the weight.”

Alex balked, grabbing at his own growing muscles defensively. “I’m getting there! Not all of us can be ten feet tall, you know!”

“Maybe you could use some magic to fix that,” Theresa said, then glanced over to Thundar and Grimloch. “As for you two, have you thought about trying life enforcement? I’d love to see what it’d do for people already as vigorous as you.”

“Didn’t work for me.” Thundar shook his head. “A classmate showed me. Thought I was gonna explode.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” Theresa said. “I’m surprised you didn’t try it in a class, though. You might have enjoyed it with an experienced instructor.”

“Found out about the class later, after I’d already chosen my classes,” he said. “Also, it didn’t really have anything motivating me to do it, at least at first. But I’m kinda interested now.”

Theresa raised an eyebrow. “What finally got you into it, then?”

“Well, there’s this club I’m in and…” He paused. “Well, let’s just say I thought it might be interesting after that. Someone I know from there is into it.”

The minotaur went back to sipping his ginger beer.

Alex’s eyes narrowed, then he looked to the side. “Hey, is that person over there wearing a fox mask?”

Thundar doubled over coughing, sputtering, and spitting out his drink.

Isolde yelped and quickly moved her chair a distance from him.

When the minotaur looked up, he saw Alex’s evilly grinning face. “Soooo,” the young man said. “Thaaaat’s how it is.”

The minotaur instantly went back to eating his food.

Alex filed the information away for later.

Dessert was as enjoyable as dinner, with Alex’s slices of pumpkin pie, his mother’s cookies, and the other desserts disappearing into everyone’s mouths.

Selina said the cookies reminded her of their mother and she was going to eat an extra one for her—he had two extra.

He’d asked Thundar for his apple cake recipe, which the minotaur refused to give him at first, saying something about fox comments being off limits. Alex’s expression was one of complete innocence. In the end, he promised to give Alex the recipe while muttering something about replacing the sugar with salt and the apples with gravel.

Groaning and rubbing their bellies, they finally got up from the table and made their way away from their picnic site, taking Brutus and Najyah along with them. There was a heavy Watcher of Roal presence all throughout the university grounds, which helped everyone feel more relaxed.

The group strolled the campus, faces hidden behind their masks as they checked out an assortment of after-supper activities that had been set up for the festival. There were games for children and adults alike, dancing on the school grounds, and spectacles crafted by illusion and other spells.

Then there were the scares.

People had set up activities that took full advantage of the spookiness of the festival—haunted houses converted from some of the smaller school buildings—as well as tests of courage and other scary activities.

The first stop the group made was at a haunted house filled with illusions and wizards who’d transformed. There were massive ‘spiders’ and ‘demons’ that spat illusionary acid, monstrous wolves, and other creepy beasts that sprang at them. Screams filled the air from throughout the house, including from Alex’s group, though he noticed Grimloch wasn’t one of the screamers.

At one point, a wizard who’d transformed into a demonic-looking bear leapt at them from behind a corner and ran right into the giant shark man’s grinning fangs, then abruptly fled—shrieking—back around the corner.

At the end of their visit, they had to stop when an enthusiastic student approached Grimloch—thinking he was wearing a costume—and asked if he could be part of the haunted house the following year. He said he’d consider it.

Wizards dressed like witches in long, blood-red robes conjured up bound demons to swoop over cauldrons spitting smoke and horrifying moans. Alex even saw a laughing fairy tale witch—complete with a green warty mask—shoot by them on a skeleton horse, spreading smoke behind her that formed the shapes of shimmering bats and gargoyles.

From her voice, Alex was about seventy percent sure it was Professor Jules. Despite the recent trouble, spirits were high and everyone’s sombre mood had faded to the background.

“I think…” Selina giggled as she watched an illusion of two grey-skinned beasts dancing in the air. “Mother and Father would have liked this.”

“I know they would have,” Alex said. “I truly know they would have.”

“I think so too.” Theresa suddenly raised an eyebrow in surprise, recognizing a young man with a certain frost drake, which was lying on its back and allowing children to pet its cool scales. “And it’s too bad my parents couldn’t be here for this.”

“Tell them to come next year,” Alex said. “They’ve gotta see it.”

He took in all the sights, trying to imagine such a spooky but fun festival taking place in their homeland. Probably not… Monsters would bring up too many bad memories of the Ravener’s aggressions toward the people.

Just another reason for him to see what information he could get from examining the dungeon core’s remains. He glanced at the flying witch who he was sure was his potions professor.

Hopefully, he could do that soon.

Chapter 28

Opportunities and Exams

“For the last time, Alex, no,” Professor Jules said as they finished their weekend work in her lab. It had been a few days since the Festival of Ghosts. “You will have to take the second semester potions course. No Challenging the Exam for Credit here.”

Alex noticed a catch in her voice when she refused him this time and nearly twitched in excitement.

He had a feeling he was wearing her down.

If he was persistent, this might be the day he could take a huge leap toward gaining access to a lab to analyse the dungeon core.

“Oh, come on, Professor,” Alex pressed. “Professor Val’Rok let me do it.” He tried not to sound sullen, but probably failed.

“And when Professor Val’Rok is your teacher for potions, maybe you can ask him to let you take the exam for credit. Potions and alchemy are about safety procedures, and leaping ahead is an excellent way to get killed,” she insisted, but promptly sighed and looked around the lab as her grad students removed their safety gear.

Normally, they would have had a significant clean-up period after a session in Jules’ lab, but Alex had been taking care of that more and more quickly as he’d gotten used to the procedure, and as his proficiency with Wizard’s Hand had grown.

It was to the point now that—by the time the experiment was finished—he’d already cleaned up and put away most of the equipment. The grad students literally had nothing to do after their work was done.

“I must say, you’ve been demonstrating some very advanced skills as well as a genuine ability to anticipate what’s needed, though… All of your potions have been perfect, your marks on the midterm were perfect, and quite frankly, I’m starting to wonder if you might be some old master of alchemy who’s shapeshifted into a student just to play some sort of joke on me. At this point, I’d quite frankly be surprised if you didn’t also receive perfect marks on the final exam.”

“That’s the plan,” he said with no hint of smugness. It was just simply a statement of fact: that was the plan.

She gave him a look and sighed again. “I… must admit, it is occurring to me that perhaps I vastly overestimated how much hand holding you needed when I first met you. At first, I thought you were overconfident and would soon find yourself in over your head. Then, I thought you might be monstrously talented, but lacking in caution.”

She shook her head. “Yet you follow procedure to the letter, and I’ve not seen one single attempt of you trying to be cocky in a way that would cause you or others any harm.”

Jules looked at him very seriously. He could almost see the mental calculations going on in the experienced wizard’s mind. He kept very still and didn’t say anything in case he twitched in a way that made her distrust him.

“I have… When you first met me, you asked if you could work on projects on your own,” she finally said.

“Yeah, I remember,” Alex said.

“Honestly, I still don’t believe you were ready then, but I do think you are honestly ready now.”

Alex barely resisted the urge to jump into the air as high as he could and scream.

“I think your learning could benefit from taking on a few individual experiments on your own,” Professor Jules continued, giving him an almost suspicious stare. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll have free rein to blow yourself up in my lab.”

“I definitely don’t want to blow myself up in your lab,” he said with a straight face. “Or—now that I think about it—anywhere else.”

“Mhmmmmm.” Her look deepened in cautiousness. “Quite honestly, there are a number of potions assignments this upcoming semester that just will not challenge you, and so you won’t get any useful learning from them. My point in seeing that you take the second semester potions course is to make sure you get the fundamentals you might not get otherwise, not to have you waste your time on work that won’t challenge you.”

She glanced at her grad students. “Therefore—you’ll be supervised by a grad student—and you’ll start with certain projects that I will have approved. In between, you’ll also be afforded time and lab space to brew your own potions, as long as they are restricted to potions you have already successfully brewed in class.”

“Right,” Alex said, keeping a straight face.

It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it was enough. As long as he had free-run of the lab, and as long as the grad student wasn’t hovering over him all the time, he should be able to slip in a sample of the dungeon core’s remains and perform his analysis.

The apparatuses weren’t built in such a way to start screaming: “Alert! Unauthorized substance detected!” or anything like that. The only issue would be if the analysis itself caused some sort of sudden, visible reaction. It was a completely unknown substance from a highly dangerous creature, after all. Then again, Professor Jules did say it had been analysed before and hadn’t mentioned anything about: “And it resulted in half of the research team’s gruesome deaths.”

And if anything did go wrong, it’d be better to have an experienced wizard in the lab with him. Blowing up an apparatus and having someone there to treat him would definitely result in him having a lot of very awkward questions to answer, but better that than to be lying in a smouldering, untreated, dead wreck on the lab floor.

“And this will be next semester, right?” he said, trying to control his eagerness. Besides analysing the dungeon core, having more freedom in an alchemy lab sounded like a lot of fun, and it was hard to keep himself from turning into an obviously over-excited child over it. He realized Selina probably felt similarly when she really got into building something.

“Yes, right from week one,” Professor Jules informed him. “Assuming, of course, you don’t somehow lose your head and let the final exam completely annihilate you, Mr. Roth.”

“Understood, Professor,” Alex said. “I’ll do my best.”

“Okay, here’s the plan.” Thundar looked up from his massive pile of study notes at the end of the table in Alex’s apartment. “I’ll sneak into Ram’s house and throttle him with a chain while you sneak into Hartman’s house—” He referred to his battle magic professor while making a gripping motion in the air. “—and smother him with a pillow.”

“That’s a genius idea,” Alex said in mock seriousness, half-rising from his pile of force magic notes. “We’ll catch them off-guard, Khalik can weigh their dead bodies down with magic rocks, and then we can toss them into the ocean for the fish.”

“Or we can just feed the bodies to Grimloch!” Thundar grinned.

“Even better.”

“First of all, don’t involve me in your murder schemes,” Khalik said. “Secondly, don’t you think you’ll be the first suspects?”

“I dunno,” Thundar grunted. “I’d be shocked if Hartman didn’t have a lot of enemies.”

“You’re both going to have one great enemy if you keep going on like this and don’t let me concentrate!” Isolde snapped, glancing up from her mana manipulation notes. “I swear you two go on more than two old millers meeting over drinks at a summer fair!”

Isolde—pale and dishevelled again now that exams were on—bore murderous eyes at them. One of her eyebrows twitched.

Sccrp.

Selina, who’d been quietly reading one of her textbooks across the room, got up from her chair without a word and—her face still buried in the book—casually padded across the apartment to Alex’s room and set her book down on his desk. When she was about to sit down, she paused, padded back over to his door and shut it.

Silence fell over the cabal.

“Perhaps…” Khalik suggested, his voice lowered. “We could all use a quick break.” He reached over to a jug and poured several cups of lemonade. Isolde watched him carefully, just in case he spilled any liquid on their precious notes.

When they all had drinks in hand, they slid their chairs slightly from the table. Alex leaned back in his, enjoying the sweet and tart flavour of the cool drink.

“So, how’re we all feeling about exams? Progress report,” Alex said.

Isolde frowned. “Mana manipulation is difficult as ever, but I am making great strides. I must admit, the cabal has made my studying far more efficient, since we can help each other answer questions.”

“Indeed,” Khalik said. “I think I am near done with my revision. Alex, your grasp of magic lore is a real help. I think I might rise a few spots on the list.”

“Aaaah, I complain, but I’m gonna do better than I did on midterms, I think,” Thundar grunted. “Even in Hartman’s class—ugh, what a guy. Battle magic should be fun!”

“Maybe you’ll get another professor for second semester,” Alex suggested.

“Naw, still Hartman,” the minotaur said mournfully. “For second-year, I hear it’s Professor Konrad—who’s supposed to be as crazy as a demon with a belly full of special mushrooms—but a much better prof.”

“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” Alex said. “Well, none of my professors are switching for second semester… Except for maybe mana manipulation. I really don’t know?”

“Still Val’Rok,” Isolde said. “Who still marks just as hard. At least according to other members of the class. I’ve had little trouble with him.”

“Right, then all the same for me,” Alex said. “And honestly, I’m pretty happy with that.”

Even Ram wasn’t actually a bad instructor; he just wasn’t Alex’s favourite person.

“Glad we get to keep Baelin,” he finished.

“I’ve been thinking about him,” Khalik jumped in. “I keep thinking about what you said he was doing on the Festival of Ghosts.”

“Doing what now?” Thundar squinted.

“Did Alex not tell you? He apparently spent the festival with others from far away,” Khalik said. “How’d he put it, Alex?”

“Something like, ‘so far, the names of where they’re from wouldn’t have any meaning to you,’” Alex recalled.

“Well, that’s real ominous-sounding,” Thundar said.

“But fun to think about.” Khalik ran his fingers through his sculpted beard in thought. “Where perhaps do you think they might be from? And what are they? Somehow, I can see the chancellor at the supper table with all sorts of strange beings. Demons or demon lords, celestials and other spirits, elemental monarchs… devils, maybe.”

He threw a look at Alex, who recalled Hobb.

“Heh, that’d be kind of cool,” Thundar said. “Maybe one of those… wazzat thing you said was in your potion professor’s lab, Alex?”

“A lesser shoggoth.” He shuddered. He imagined Baelin sitting at a massive table with one of those squirmy, tentacled, horrible, shifting things. “I don’t imagine they’d be great dinner companions.”

“Perhaps he simply meant other powerful wizards, or other wizards in addition to the beings you described.” Isolde sipped her lemonade, head tilted back and eyebrows knitted in thought. “Have you all ever heard of the ‘Many-Spheres Theory’?”

“Yeah, there was a brief reference to it in the magic lore textbook,” Alex said. “But I don’t know any details.”

“Well.” She drew herself up in her chair. “It proposes that the stars above may nurture worlds much as our own—complete with life, plants, civilization and their own magics. Even their own gods, entirely different from our own.”

“Hohoholy shi—” Thundar began.

“Language.” Alex glanced at the closed door to his room.

“Oh right, sorry. Just was gonna say, I can think of at least three different bunches of priests who’d start foaming at the mouth in a rage at you even suggesting that.”

“It is merely a theory,” Isolde said. “But many wizards and astronomers believe it. It is a fact that powerful archmages do not tend to reside in the world forever, despite many being near-immortal. Some are said to go to different planes, but perhaps there truly are different material worlds out there as well.”

“Hah, what a romantic notion that would be.” Khalik smiled wistfully. “Just you, your magic, and your cabal.” He gestured to the ceiling. “Off up in the heavens exploring the stars.”

Two memories came back to Alex in that moment. One was of the painting in Baelin’s office—the round obsidian table beneath that sea of stars. The other was of the flying silver objects he’d seen burning through the blackness between stars while going through the Traveller’s Portal.

Perhaps there was something to those theories after all.

Maybe if he got to know Baelin better, he could ask him. Perhaps information could be found in some deep level of the library where the ninth-tier spell guides were kept. If the library even went that deep.

‘Wouldn’t it be thrilling to find out?’ Alex thought.

“Alright, break’s over,” Khalik said. “Before we think on stars and wonders, let’s try and pass these exams as best we can.”

The exam period went by so quickly, it felt like Alex had barely blinked by the time it was all over. In the end, it felt like a blur of study sessions with the cabal, endless library readings, and memories flying through his head provided by the Mark.

Written exams were again fairly easy—though Professor Jules had thrown in a few brain-blasting calculation questions Alex was sure she’d put in just to spite him—and most of the practical examinations had also gone well.

Even FORC-1550 wasn’t too, too awful.

It was fairly embarrassing when he could only demonstrate going through half the spell array for force missile to the teacher’s assistant invigilating his practical test, but it felt very good to see the look on their face when he activated Lesser Force Armour, Force Shield and two Wizard’s Hands spells all at once.

When the marks came out, he still hadn’t made the honours list for that course, but he’d certainly done well enough for himself, if he considered his goals and limits.

Campus exploded in celebration of the end of exams again, and—for a time—all thoughts of the demon-summoning seemed to be forgotten.

At last—with Sigmus approaching—it was time for a break, and Generasi provided the students with a three-week vacation from course work. Some of the students, who lived close enough to the university to make the journey, or had access to teleportation magic—travelled home for the break.

For others, though, the plan was to stay and enjoy the sights of campus and the city without the grind and pressure of classes.

Alex had two major things planned: the first was for he, Theresa, Selina, Brutus, Thundar, Khalik, Najyah and Isolde to spend a day exploring some of Generasi’s countryside. He’d seen the wine country so often from various sky-gondolas that he was eager to get a good look at it up close. He also planned on picking up some extra shifts at Shale’s Workshop and, most exciting…

…he and Selina would begin the first step of a long process he’d been impatiently looking forward to.

Together, they would begin sculpting the body of his golem.

Chapter 29

Golem Sculpting and the Sky-Ship

“Why are you boiling dirt?” Selina asked, staring at her brother as he leaned over the side of a massive cauldron as tall as his waist.

They were in a project room, as they were called—large chambers in the university that could be booked for personal magical projects. Any student or staff member could book one as long as what they would be working on didn’t involve magic that was too risky. The project had to be approved before the space could be booked.

Projects like illusion practice, painting with magical pigments, other art projects, or even low-risk activities like magic item construction, could be practiced in these rooms. Staves, for example, were a magic item that required carving the staff from a piece of wood before it was infused with the magic circuitry for the spells that would be built into it. The process was reasonably safe and low-risk, one Alex had learned was often done in these project rooms.

The rooms were reinforced against mishaps, but not as heavily as the Cells, and they actually had windows to let the sunlight in.

Alex also borrowed a special cauldron from one of the Cells’ supply rooms and had gotten Thundar to help him bring it to the project room. The pot was controlled through mana manipulation, allowing it to heat substances without the need for flame.

“It’s because we need a special kind of material for what we’re making today,” Alex said, carefully stirring the earthy-smelling substance.

“Okay. I hope it’s finished soon. Is it really that special?”

“Oh yeah.” He glanced at his open notebook on a nearby table. “If I got the recipe right, it should be some of the finest clay you’ve ever worked.”

On their final trip to the Barrens for the semester—a largely uneventful one compared to other trips—Alex brought a shovel and a heap of burlap bags to collect a massive amount of mana-bathed dust, with Baelin’s permission, of course. He’d also arranged with Khalik to conjure soil and clay from the elemental plane of earth using a spell he’d learned in his earth elemental class.

The prince obliged, summoning the substance by the bucketload—though it had taken several days to gather. All in all—with the plans he’d put together from helping Lagor build golem bodies, and with information he’d gathered from several manuals at the workshop—he’d need two thousand pounds of good, even clay to construct the golem he wanted to craft.

He’d debated for a long time on what size of golem to build. For a time, the excitable boy in him just started to scream: ‘bigger! bigger! biggeeeeer!’

The image of himself leading some thirty-foot-tall clay titan back to Thameland to smash every silence-spider terrorizing his homeland was incredibly tempting. Unfortunately, practicality killed that dream before it could even get underway. For one thing, sculpting such a large body would take forever, and secondly, storing it would be impossible.

The school had storage areas students could rent—where he’d stored the sacks of materials for the golem—but none could accommodate thirty-foot titans. The next size he considered was something the size of Grimloch: a ten-foot-tall monster that would still be able to crush anything in its path. Then he debated going even smaller: something human sized, or maybe minotaur-sized. Eight feet tall was a standard golem size that was not only practical, but could also serve him well.

In the end, though, he’d settled on a Grimloch-sized one after considering what he wanted it for.

And that was power.

Grimloch could fit through doors as long as he crouched, and that was what Alex wanted. Something big, strong and unstoppable as possible, while still practical enough to fit through doors. He could craft smaller golems later, if he really wanted to.

Another good reason to have the body be a bit larger was so that it could store and handle more mana. As he researched the process for implanting the fire-gems into the golem’s body, he’d come to the conclusion it would need to be strong enough to hold together from the mana passing between its core—which he planned to build to be as powerful as he could manage with his budget and skill—and the three powerful magical stones.

Using clay from the elemental plane of earth was a good start, and mixing in the mana-blasted dust from the Barrens was the next good step. In the end, size would increase the volume of mana the body could handle.

So he and Selina would have to sculpt a minor giant.

“Alright, stand back,” he said, waiting until his sister had stepped back before gripping the cauldron. He reversed the mana flow through the cauldron, switching its heating magic to cooling, then waited a few minutes while the cauldron sucked most of the excess heat out of the mixture. Next, he began to tip the cauldron.

Nearly over-balancing, overestimating how much effort it would take, Alex caught himself before anything could spill. Sometimes he forgot how much his strength had increased since arriving at Generasi. He’d worked hard to get stronger, and it had been worth the effort because now, he could do things like lift and move this cauldron. Something he never could have before.

He poured the mixed liquid clay into the pot and stirred. Smiling contentedly, he cast his newest spell: Orb of Air.

After carefully going through the spell array, a floating, near-invisible sphere of fresh air manifested in front of him. Slowly, he sank the orb into the container and spun it through the still warm clay, giving one final pass to cool it and make sure it was beaten to the right consistency.

He eyed it carefully, having created a few test mixtures with smaller amounts beforehand using the Mark. He’d wanted to make sure he perfected the substance’s consistency before he went all in on making the large batch for the golem.

And after all the trouble, it was at the perfect consistency for golem body-sculpting.

“Alright, you ready to get your hands dirty?” Alex grinned at his sister.

“Yes!” she said excitedly, bounding over.

“Okay, then let’s do it.”

On their first day, they would start with the torso. The plan was to craft the golem in pieces, then fuse them together later, using magic and the proper tools. For now, the torso would be the best place to start, using their hands and sculpting tools he’d bought from Shale’s.

They spent the next few days gradually moulding the torso. The outside wasn’t complicated to sculpt—more detail would be added over time, for the fun and aesthetics of it—but the inside work of crafting pathways for the mana to flow through the golem and power it was complex. The only area he left blank on the inside was the setting for the golem core—he wasn’t sure exactly how large his golem core would end up being.

After a few days, the Roth siblings took a break.

The countryside of Generasi awaited.

“Holy crap, I should have booked passage on one of these months ago. This is amazing!” Alex shouted over the wind as he leaned over the railing.

“It’s incredible,” Theresa agreed, holding the rail with one hand and moving her wind-blown bangs from her eyes.

Selina giggled, filled with delight at their reactions, hopping up and down beside them. Khalik laughed exuberantly alongside them as Najyah soared by. Isolde smiled and Thundar was all grins. Behind them, Brutus pressed himself tightly to the floor and as close against Theresa’s legs as he could.

Around them, throngs of holidaying students and other passengers watched them in amusement, but didn’t say anything.

The reaction of pure delight Alex’s group was having was common for first-timers on a sky-ship. This was a popular, crowded excursion arranged for folks to tour Generasi’s wine country. While Selina had been on a sky-ship with her class once before, none of the others had ever ridden on one.

Everyone tensed as the galleon pulled away from the massive skyport terminal where they’d boarded, and climbed up above the soaring towers of Generasi City. Despite the fairly steep incline the ship took, the passengers didn’t lose balance or plummet overboard since it was charged with magic that kept them comfortable and safely on board. Brutus, however, was obviously nervous about the entire affair and eyed the glass-bottomed deck like he expected it to crack and spill them into the sky. By the way he’d plastered himself to Theresa, he was even more distrustful of sky-ships than sky-gondolas. Maybe it was the transparent, fragile-looking floor making him uncomfortable, especially with Selina jumping up and down on it. Theresa kept reassuring him that he’d be back on land soon, but he remained stubbornly wide-eyed and whining as he watched Selina.

Passengers crowded the deck, sipping from cups of chilled coffee and wines, lemonade, and iced teas from the ship’s drink menu while the captain’s voice boomed over the wind.

Beside the ship flew a flock of the students’ familiars, soaring and circling around the vessel. The mood was high, marred only by what looked like a small battalion of city guards joined by members of the Watchers of Roal.

The mana vampire hadn’t attacked recently, and the city authorities still hadn’t managed to track and put an end to it.

Its bounty continued to climb.

As the flying ship soared over the city wall, a small encampment of mercenaries, monster hunters and rangers came into view in the open fields between the countryside proper and the city walls. Some hunted within the city, looking for the creature and the golden prize it would bring, while others ventured deep into the countryside in case the monster still stalked there.

Alex wondered just how high the bounty had risen to bring so many warriors of fortune to the City of Wizards. He glanced back to the ship’s protectors, patrolling along the sides of the deck.

For now, all the city officials could do was set up experienced fighters as deterrents and continue the hunt. It made Alex feel a lot better. From how the Watchers of Roal resisted the demon’s aura of fear, Alex figured they were well-equipped to stand against a mana vampire’s ability to put others to sleep.

With how they’d handled themselves in the demon attack, he figured a mana vampire would have an awful time fighting the Watchers while trapped on a flying ship, unless it was a lot stronger than he knew. He felt safe… enough.

He glanced at the other travellers.

Mostly.

The Watchers’ presence didn’t stop him from checking his surroundings every now and then. The ship flew over the green fields and bright vineyards of the countryside, and everyone gawked at the manor houses that resembled something from a fairy tale dotting the countryside.

Between them rose lone wizards’ towers—architecture that could have been plucked straight out of one of the storybooks in the church school—surrounded by gardens and low walls marked with protective glyphs on top.

“Wow, it’s like wizard paradise,” Alex said.

“It is. Look there,” Isolde said, pointing to a villa atop a hill, with bright yellow stucco walls and a red terraced roof. “One of my distant cousins lives there, but I have never visited.”

“You’ve never visited?” Theresa looked at her sharply. “Awww, I wanted to hear what a place like that looked like on the inside.”

Isolde shrugged. “I might still visit. The relationship is distant, so we do not share much in the way of correspondence.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it, then, especially that!” Theresa pointed to a well-kept forest that was a riot of colour blazing with bright red, orange, purple, and yellow leaves. Through some of the clearings, Alex spotted toadstools the size of carriages. “What a forest! Does it belong to your cousin’s family?”

“Not quite.” Isolde drew a line through the forest near the villa with her finger. “Many acres are claimed by my kin, but most of the forest is under the dominion of the dryad village that is there.”

“Did you say dryads?” Alex, Khalik and Thundar said at the same time. They laughed, glancing at each other.

Alex had read about dryads. Beautiful forest-nymphs bound to trees by a life-link. They were said to be masters in their own branch of magic, dealing with nature, animals and plants.

“What are they? Why are they so excited about them?” Theresa asked.

Isolde gave the minotaur, the prince and the Fool a long look, before explaining the concept to Theresa.

The huntress’ eyes lit up. “They’d know so much about forest-craft. I’d love to meet them.”

“Yeah, that’s why I was so excited,” Alex said, ignoring the pointed stare of Isolde and the rapid agreements of Thundar and Khalik.

“Perhaps I could arrange something,” Isolde said. “My cousin hosts a spring masquerade ball—though the masks are far less grotesque than those we wore for the Festival of Ghosts—if I could secure invitations, perhaps I could convince my cousin to broker a meeting between you and one of the tree-women.”

“I would love that,” Theresa said.

The Fool, prince and minotaur didn’t say a word.

The ship stopped at several estates where passengers were free to disembark and sample the many wines, foods and fruity beverages on offer. Selina, Najyah and Brutus played in, and explored some of the nearby grounds.

Thundar and Alex ate way too much, and were in a half-coma by the time evening rolled around. Still—even while barely awake—Alex could hear a merry Khalik composing poetry about imaginary dryads, half in his language and half in the common tongue.

For some reason, Theresa seemed to find this endlessly hilarious, and laughed so hard, she was in tears.

Isolde was decidedly less amused, while Thundar, nearly passed out from overstuffing himself, sat on the deck with his eyes closed and petted Brutus with one massive hand. Selina lay flat on her stomach beside them, contentedly looking through the glass deck at the evening scenery below.

It was a fine day, all in all, and one they were eager to repeat a few more times during the break.

Luckily, Isolde was there to provide.

“So,” she said one day when the cabal met for lunch. “I contacted that distant cousin I spoke of, and fortunately, he has invited me—and any guests I should see fit to bring—to his estate for the afternoon. We need to be cautious in light of the mana vampire lurking, of course, and…”

She paused, a line of worry crossing her brow. “My cousin informs me that a time ago, monster hunters spotted another creature lurking in his lands. One that leapt from tree to tree, covered in scales and—judging by the marks it left in the bark—absolutely wicked claws.”

Alex—his face full of brioche—tilted his head. “Another monster?”

He wondered what else might be lurking in Generasi’s countryside.

Chapter 30

Dryads

“You know, if this is winter here, I’m not sure I ever want to go back home,” Alex said as the extra-long sky-gondola pulled up over the fairy tale villa belonging to Isolde’s cousin.

The rain was streaming down in sheets over the wind-and-rain shield, making it a nasty day to go exploring the countryside, but there were blue skies to the east as the clouds passed. Soon, the day would turn sunny.

It was like that a lot in Generasi. So far—even as it was getting deeper into ‘winter,’ the coldest it had been was during days of cool rain that only made things pleasant and fresh.

“But what about snow, Alex?” Selina said. “I miss snow.”

“I tell you what, when I get better at magic, I’ll make you some snow, okay?” A strange look passed over her face that concerned Alex. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said and returned to her captivated examination of the villa.

Before he could say anything else, Isolde spoke from the back of the gondola. “You may bring us down there.” She pointed out a landing pad on the grass centred within a U-shaped road in front of the villa.

“Right away, ma’am,” their sky-gondolier said.

“Excellent. If I may have everyone’s attention,” she called to Alex, Theresa, Khalik, Selina and Thundar. “My cousin is what is known as patrizia or ‘patrician’ in the common tongue: one of the landed noble families whose bloodline extends back to before Generasi was built. As none of us are his subjects—and since we are residents of the city while students at the university—we are expected to show him courtesy as a host, or in my case as kin, but there is no need for bowing.”

“Really?” Theresa asked. “I thought nobles got particular about that sort of thing.”

Khalik hid a cough.

Isolde raised an eyebrow and a wry smile took her features. “And do you find that I am particular about that sort of thing, Theresa? When we went to the weaponsmith’s shop to see her wares, did I ask that you walk behind me, bow and address me as ‘my lady’ or anything of the sort? Have you ever seen me demand that Hogarth and Svenia bow down as they served me? Do you see me as that ‘particular’?”

The huntress paled. “No, no! You didn’t! I mean, I don’t think of you that way! Uh, I’m sorry.”

Isolde let out a rare laugh. “No apologies needed. I am teasing, and to be truthful, in most cases, I am quite particular that aristocratic protocol be followed, but wizards are outside of the system of feudalism in these lands. We respect the ancestral guardians of the country, but we do not bow to them.”

Alex cocked his head in interest. That was a very interesting tidbit of information. He’d dreamed of becoming a wizard. It was the ticket to a safe and comfortable life, or so he’d thought at the time. In Thameland, though, wizards were subjects of their lords—just like anyone else. It didn’t mean some noble was going to enter a wizard’s tower and demand service, but it did mean paying taxes and having to follow orders if called into service. It also meant proper respect, such as bowing and the finer points of etiquette that had never really affected Alex Roth.

He imagined that for folk of these lands, it’d be even more attractive to become a wizard. For them, it would mean not only freedom in terms of practical skills, but also the ability to officially break out of the feudal hierarchy.

As the sky-gondola landed on the pad and its passengers scrambled out—including a cerberus that never seemed to quite get used to the flying crafts—they saw a tall man approaching them from the villa.

“Lady Isolde Von Anmut’s party?” he asked.

“Yes, that is us,” Isolde said.

The man bowed. “Welcome, Lady Isolde, to the villa of Patrizia DePaolo. I am Vincenzo, personal aide to the patrizia. If you will please follow me.”

With a wave of a cane, something happened and Alex felt mana flow from the device. Suddenly, invisible shields appeared over them, providing protection from the rain.

They followed Vincenzo, and as soon as they reached the villa’s overhang, towering entry doors cracked open. Several servants emerged, flanking a tall man—maybe somewhere in his early thirties—with greying hair and the same sharp blue eyes as Isolde’s. A fine sword hung on his hip, which drew the attention of both Isolde and Theresa.

He smiled at the tall, young woman, kissing her lightly on each cheek. “Cousin, welcome, I see that you are right on time, despite the rain.”

“We set out early so we would not be delayed,” Isolde said, shooting a look at Thundar, who glanced away guiltily.

Khalik had to go roust the slumbering minotaur at his dormitory room, then they’d had to sprint to the sky-pier to make it on time. Isolde had driven them all as if the Ravener itself was chasing them. She must have repeated “We cannot be late!” twenty times before they reached their sky-gondola.

“Khalik Behr-Medr, Alex Roth, Theresa Lu, Selina Roth and Thundar, Son of Gulbiff; this is my cousin, Patrizia Giuseppe Marco DePaolo.”

“Pleased to meet you, and thank you for the invitation,” they all said.

Khalik had told Isolde his surname earlier that morning, and unsurprisingly—due to the distance between their realms—it seemed she did not recognize it, just as he hadn’t recognized hers when she’d first revealed it in the Barrens. None of them recognized her cousin’s name or title either, or at least, no one said they did.

If he took offence to this, he hid it well. His smile was a genuine one that reached his eyes, which only grew wider when Selina curtsied to him.

“Welcome to my home. Any friend of my family is a welcome guest.” He gestured to his foyer. “I’ve had a table set up in the solarium so we might have a light lunch. In her note, Isolde mentioned you might have an interest in seeing the grounds. So, perhaps once my guard captain returns from inspecting the house guards, we can have a little walk and I can show you around after lunch.”

He straightened slightly in pride as he spoke of showing off his home. “Now, come, come! No sense in standing out here in the damp.” He glanced at Brutus. “Well, isn’t this a handsome devil. Even in Generasi, cerebri are rare beasts, and fewer still are as well-trained as this one. Who might I ask is his mast—”

He paused, glancing over all of them before his eyes focused on Theresa. “Oh, why ask for the answers to obvious questions: you are this beast’s master, are you not, young lady? He shows a close attachment to you.”

Theresa couldn’t hide her surprise, and spoke proudly, “Mhm. This is Brutus. I raised him from a pup.”

At the patrizia’s acknowledgement and mention of his name, one of Brutus’ heads turned to Theresa in curiosity while another rose up as though filled with pride.

Alex suppressed a touch of jealousy. It’d taken him years and risking his life for this mutt to finally mostly warm to him, now he was happily soaking up attention from this man he’d just met and—

He silenced that train of thought.

‘Really, man?’ he thought to himself. ‘You don’t really get jealous when someone shows Theresa a bunch of attention—except for maybe that mana vampire on Fan-Dor’s ship when you thought he was a man staring at her—but you turn into a green-eyed monster when the three-headed dog warms up to someone?’

He shook his head. Each time he examined himself, he found that his issues ran deeper.

“I see you did an admirable job,” the patrizia said, admiring Brutus and patting one of his heads. “We have a fine breed of hound in Generasi: Striga Cane Corso, or the Coursing Hounds of Striga. It is a breed of hunting dog—though not as large or as strong as a cerberus—that can scent mana. They were quite valuable when my ancestors and the wizards of Generasi were not always on the… best of terms.”

His face darkened. “If only they could scent mana vampires, the elusive devils that they are. In any case, might my groundskeeper escort your pup to the yard with my other hounds?”

“Are they… safe?”

The patrizia laughed heartily. “They are safe, clever, and trained to only attack when ordered to, or when defending themselves. I am sure your Brutus will get along with them just fine.”

Theresa looked down at Brutus. “Do you like the sound of that? Do you want to go play?”

Brutus let out three barks all at once and wagged his tail.

After watching Brutus follow the groundskeeper to the villa’s outbuildings—toward a walled kennel complex near a towering windmill that turned slowly in the rain and wind—they followed the patrizia into his villa.

Having spent so much time at the university of Generasi, Alex was fairly sure that few buildings could surprise him anymore. He was wrong. While Patrizia DePaolo’s villa wasn’t filled with moving benches, Orbs of Air that cleaned up debris, and other wonders, it made up for those things in sheer opulence.

From masterfully done oil paintings covering the walls, to soaring muraled ceilings, marble floors and staircases, and windows of fine glass surrounded by hand carved frames, it all spoke of an owner that probably had more gold coins than they’d likely ever be able to spend in several mortal lifetimes.

Selina was absolutely taken with all the details. Her eyes shot around at all the embellishments, flourishes and architectural wonders that made up the patrizia’s home. Thundar gaped at the wealth on display—as did Alex—while Prince Khalik walked through as naturally as if he were walking through a farmer’s market.

Alex supposed everything was relative.

His belly growled as they were led to the solarium; a delightful scent drifted through the air, and he was really looking forward to whatever the source of lunch was. He wasn’t disappointed by a long table that occupied the centre of the glass room which overlooked nearby gardens. It was bursting with platters of pastries, hot breads, fresh fruits and vegetables, and an inviting display of cured meats with cubed cheeses.

Oh, and a lot of fresh grapes, wines and juices.

It was almost a shame that the conversation was so pleasant, as Alex would have loved nothing more than to occupy his mouth entirely with the feast that had been prepared for them.

Luckily, Isolde did most of the talking to her cousin—with the others only jumping in when he directly addressed them. Khalik seemed to pull the older man’s attention the most, discussing the politics and trade of the realms surrounding the Prinean sea. A lot of it went over the heads of Alex, Theresa, Thundar and Selina, but Isolde followed along with interest.

The conversation did eventually take a turn that caught Alex’s interest.

“The mana vampire is not only a horrid creature, but also bad for trade,” Giuseppe complained. “As fear heightens, people want to travel less, and as they want to travel less, they want to buy less. Of course, then there’s that other monster to worry about.”

“Yes, Isolde did mention that to us,” Khalik said. “I know there are some monsters in the countryside here. Are this creature’s activities so beyond those of the ones in this area?”

“The countryside does have its monsters, my friend, but we who live out here, as well as the city officials, make sure their populations are kept low and that the roads are safe. These days, you mostly find the occasional muupkara troop that’s adapted to life outside of the Barrens and a few other beasts. This creature, though, avoided a team of seasoned, experienced monster hunters. The mere sighting of it was enough to further heighten fear.”

He sighed, patting the sword on his hip. “A decade ago, I would have gone out with my hounds and house guards to hunt the thing myself, but now I have a family to think of and responsibilities. Those tend to take a lot of the fun out of adventuring: the mind focuses on risks and the body hesitates.”

“I am sure you have many thrilling stories you could tell,” Khalik said, sipping the wine from his goblet. He made an appreciative sound. “An excellent vintage. It is one of yours?”

“My father’s, casked ten years ago,” Giuseppe smiled wistfully. “Back when my head was filled with song and wonder, and my hand often sought the hilt of my sword.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Theresa added with a note of longing in her voice.

“Oh, it was—I was quite the duellist at your age—but the life of a lord and vintner has its own thrills…” He shot the group a coy look. “And adventure still remains fairly close at hand. Isolde told me you might have an interest in the dryads?”

“Yes,” Khalik, Thundar, Theresa and Selina said at once, echoing each other—with identical enthusiasm, but for very different reasons.

“Indeeeed,” Isolde said, drawing out the word with a slight frown of disapproval at her male cabal-mates.

Alex, meanwhile, was using the Mark to keep his face as neutral and natural as he could.

“Well, they are not at my beck and call.” The patrizia squinted through the solarium’s glass ceiling. “But I do note the sun is coming out and I think we could use a little post-lunch exercise. So, why don’t we enter the woods and I can show you their trails and some of their magnificent works. Perhaps, if we are fortunate, one of them might greet us.”

“Oooo, that sounds great,” Theresa said, looking at Alex excitedly.

He exchanged a smile with her, and a knowing look with Khalik and Thundar.

He pointedly ignored Isolde’s judging eyes.

“Oh my gosh, look at this!” Selina ran up ahead on the forest path, staring at a strange construction: a sculpture of what looked to be a giant humanoid, woven together by living trees—as if they’d purposefully grown in that shape.

“That’s incredible!” Theresa followed her while the rest of the group strolled along the path.

The forest—scented with an earthiness awakened by the fresh rain—loomed over them, filled with trees bearing brightly coloured leaves that shed rain droplets when the wind blew. The ground was soaking wet, but Giuseppe had led them onto a dryad path—which was coated in a water-absorbent moss that was soft on the foot, hoof, or shoe while quickly soaking up water before it could turn the earth into a mud-sink.

“Careful not to stray from the path,” Giuseppe—flanked by his house guards and guard captain—called to them. “My family has been given permission to use the dryads’ paths to travel, but not to step too far into their lands.”

“We’ll be careful!” Selina promised.

“Just don’t go too far from Theresa!” Alex added. “And stay where I can see you!”

He glanced at the trees, thinking about the mana vampire and other monsters their host mentioned. They were surrounded by armed guards, and the patrizia assured them the forest had been checked and was safe. Still, he wondered if he should have cast Force Shield on Selina just in case.

At least Theresa was with her, and so far, nothing had happened.

“What is that?” Selina asked excitedly, still looking up at the sculpture of woven trees.

“It’s a marker,” Giuseppe said. “It separates my lands from those of the dryads.” The road broke into a fork. “I, my household and guests, can travel on the left path, but not the right without their permission.”

“Ach, that’s too bad,” Thundar said. “Looks like no dryads today. Ah well, at least the kid’s hap—”

The minotaur’s words suddenly cut off.

All went still and Theresa froze, eyeing the trees around them. Her hand fell to her knife.

“Theresa, what’s hap—”

“Do not move, mara-vitar, or your face will have a new, very, very red decoration,” a voice said from right beside Alex.

Alex rigidly turned to his left.

Protruding halfway out of the closest tree was a woman.

And that woman had a sword pointed only inches away from his face.

Chapter 31

The Stand-Off

Think. Adapt.

Think. Adapt.

Think. Adapt.

Alex’s eyes darted, taking in his surroundings and analysing the situation.

They’d been surrounded; their opponents had come out of the woods—some of them emerging directly from tree trunks—to flank their entire party at the same time. His sister had gone silent, and Theresa was hugging her tightly to her side. The huntress had her massive hunting knife drawn and on guard, but she was flanked by two females—each holding swords close to her—while two more crouched in the trees, with bows pointed down, ready to draw and fire arrows in a heartbeat.

Thundar was still frozen in mid-sentence with two swords pointed at his chest, while Khalik and Isolde each had a swordswoman threatening them. The patrizia, his captain and a few guards managed to draw their weapons, but it was clear who held the advantage.

Despite some of the women moving from branch to branch for a better angle to aim their bows, they did not make a single sound. It was an uncomfortable reminder of the silence-spiders.

Alex’s brow furrowed.

From the fact that they were all still alive, it seemed these assailants didn’t plan on ending their lives immediately, which made him wonder what they wanted exactly.

“Hold now, hold! Peace!” Giuseppe shouted. “What is the meaning of this? Are the dryads violating their pact with my family after so many years? Are you no more than common bandits now who dare threaten my kin and party?”

“Quiet, mara-vitar,” one of the assailers said. “I think you misread the situation. You are the rabbit, and we are the snare.”

“Wait! I recognize this one!” another voice came from a towering oak close to Isolde’s cousin. A woman slid silently down—a scar on her cheek. “Yes… you are the mara-vitar… er, human. You are the human lord that lives outside of our forest?”

“I am the human lord that rules part of this forest,” Giuseppe said with heat. “Has one of my subjects violated the peace? We have not left the path, so why do you threaten us?”

The scarred woman watched him for a long moment. “I apologize, human lord, but these are strange times.” She looked at the other women. “Bring your swords away from him.”

“Take your weapons away from my sister and friends,” Alex growled, speaking from a mix of anger, defensiveness and fear.

The sword drifted a little closer to his face.

“Quiet, you,” the woman said.

“I must agree with my guest,” Giuseppe echoed, keeping his sword up even as his aggressors put theirs down. “You are paying us an incredible insult. Do not hold swords on us like we are common criminals.”

“It is not that we fear you and yours are criminals,” the lead woman said. “There is a creature in these lands, one that steals magic by contact with life.”

“You mean the mana vampire?” the patrizia asked.

“That is your name for it, yes,” she said. “It is a shapeshifter, and can choose many guises. With… what has happened, the coming of strangers is a danger to us—one of you might be this creature who seeks to bleed the magic from us and our woods.”

“All of these guards have been with me for as long as memory serves me. There have been no mana vampire attacks on this estate. They are what they seem, and this woman is my kin.” Giuseppe placed a hand on Isolde’s shoulder. “I vouch for her on my honour and life. She is no mana-stealing shapeshifter.”

“And these are my friends,” Isolde said, head held high and hand closed on the hilt of her stiletto knife. “I have known them for half a year. They are not shapeshifting monsters, I assure you. We are in a cabal together; if you threaten them, then you also threaten me, and I shall defend us as such!”

There was a long pause while the tension thickened in the air. Alex could see Theresa’s eyes moving quickly, as though she were creating a plan: how to fight and how to escape.

She drew Selina closer to her side. The little girl was staring up at the swords.

“You do threaten a child,” Khalik said. “Not a shapeshifting monster. A child. Clearly something has happened to you to make you so… cautious. But understand: you do threaten a child.”

The women seemed to finally process Selina’s presence, and Alex saw a good deal of tension leaving and their demeanour relaxing. Those with weapons pointed at Theresa and Selina gave uncomfortable looks toward their leader, who sighed.

“We are in the wrong here,” the scarred woman said. “Lower your weapons.”

She gave the patrizia’s group a deep bow. “My apologies, mara-vitar. We acted in haste. We ask forgiveness.”

Alex let out a sigh of relief as the women moved their weapons away. He wasn’t the only one who exhaled. His heart had been hammering in his ears the entire time.

“Though no one was hurt, I will want an explanation,” Patrizia DePaolo said, then glanced at his guards. “You may sheathe your weapons.”

The group of travellers looked at each other before taking their hands away from their arms. Theresa was the last, glaring at the women for several heartbeats before finally sheathing the blade and speaking gently to Selina. Alex immediately went to them, catching them both in a tight hug.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he said quickly to Selina, bending down, taking her chin and turning her face this way and that to make sure she hadn’t been injured. He couldn’t find any wounds.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said, hugging him. He noticed her eyes were steady and she showed no signs of crying. He thought back to when they’d first walked into the Cave of the Traveller. His little sister really did seem to be especially brave for a child her age. He knew he wasn’t that brave at ten years old.

He glanced up at Theresa. “Are you okay?”

“Just nettled,” she said, continuing to glare at the women. She didn’t say anything else, likely because—from the look on her face—anything she really wanted to say would probably have reopened hostilities.

Alex looked back at the patrizia, who was speaking quietly with the leader, who—now that the threat of imminent violence was no longer an issue—he finally had a chance to examine.

It was strange how the mind focused on certain details and missed others when danger was threatening. The women were obviously not human. But all their non-human traits had become completely irrelevant while his mind was occupied with the sword that had been right in his face, and the safety of his sister and companions were at stake.

First, his eyes took in their weapons. While they carried either swords, bows and arrows, or spears, all were completely constructed of what looked to be wood. From the sharpness of their points and edges, and the way the dryads wielded them, Alex had no doubt about their deadliness.

He refocused to examine the weapon-wielders themselves.

Between Giuseppe referring to them as such and their unique appearance, they were indeed in the presence of dryads. They were humanoid in form with skin-tones ranging from the frosty white of a cloud, the tan of a fawn, the reddish-brown of a fox, or browns of a chestnut or acorn, to the deep black of a midnight sky—and even the multi-hues of tree bark. Some even had a greenish cast to their skin, like the colour of summer leaves. Their hair was unlike that of a human’s or animal’s: soft branches like a willow tree grew from their heads, some rising and some falling over their shoulders like weighted-down green saplings. These ‘branches’ were filled with an abundance of crimson-coloured leaves in the red shades of fall. Their eyes were every colour one could find in nature, and they wore sleeveless tunics woven of the same red leaves that fell just above their knees. Their feet were bare.

They were also as beautiful as was told in tales and texts, but not just in a physical way. There was an unearthly grace to each one, as if they were representations of nature’s own beauty.

It took Alex a moment to tear his eyes away from them and notice that the others—even Selina, Theresa and Isolde—were fascinated too. Not surprisingly, Khalik, Thundar and some members of the house guard were having similar reactions and doing a lot of happy grinning.

Alex tuned into the conversation between the dryad leader and the patrizia.

“—have trouble with the mana vampire too, Harmonia?” Giuseppe was asking the leader.

“It has tried to penetrate our forest to find our village several times,” Harmonia said. “It even changed shape to mimic one of our own and attempted to blend into a patrol, but its behaviour was off and none recognized this new dryad. It fled. Had it reached our sacred grove, it would have drained the mana and life force from our tree-sisters. In response, we have increased our patrols and interrogated outsiders since.” Her eyes narrowed. “And then we encountered the second beast.”

“Second beast? Do you mean the creature with scales and terrible claws?” the patrizia asked.

“Yes. It walked on two legs, but it was a monster,” the dryad leader said darkly. “Dark scales as strong as steel, claws that cut deeper than fine blades, and a bite as venomous as an adder’s fangs. It was quick enough to run down a stag, agile enough to move through the branches at speed, and strong enough to break bone in its grip. A patrol of five found the thing, and by the time the battle was finished, two of our sisters lay dead and their sister-trees withered.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Now we do not take chances.”

Worry lined Alex’s brow. That clawed beast had been mentioned a few times now by people around him. He scanned the trees and suddenly wished Baelin was close by like he always was when they faced monsters in the Barrens.

A wild suspicion began to grow in his mind. One that must have been simple paranoia as his rational mind was telling him. After all, there were tons of monsters in the Barrens and other kinds in the countryside. They varied in shape, size, power, and probably not all of them had been discovered. It was likely this unfamiliar creature was just some unknown monster from somewhere nearby.

Despite trying to reassure himself, his imagination couldn’t help but conjure the image of a monstrous agent of the Ravener coming to seek his life after all this time.

“Is the beast still about?” Khalik asked.

“It fled after fighting our patrol, and passed beyond our lands and our knowledge,” Harmonia said. “We have seen no sign of it, and asked the birds to keep watch, but they have not seen it for months now. Perhaps it has moved on. Still, we must be cautious. I again apologize for the misunderstanding. When my sister-tree bears fruit, I’ll have several baskets sent to you in apology, mara-vitar.”

She bowed her head and her leafy hair rustled. “In better times, we would welcome you to our village to extend proper hospitality… but that will have to wait. Once the mana vampire, as you called it, is eliminated, perhaps we can offer hospitality again to our neighbour. For now, we will leave you to your business. Stay on the path.”

With that, Harmonia and the other dryads melted back into the trees.

In a few heartbeats, they were alone.

Birds chirped in the branches overhead, and Alex looked up, wondering if they’d been left behind as watchers.

“Well,” Thundar finally said. “That was a lot less fun than I was hoping. They were damned pretty, though.”

After the conversation with the dryads, the mood dampened. They returned to the villa and spent the rest of the afternoon in the patrizia’s gardens. He’d shown them his prized hounds and falcons, since hunting was a favoured pastime of his household. Khalik had called Najyah—who was always close by—and Giuseppe admired the raptor, even offering Khalik a handsome sum for her. The prince refused, of course, explaining she was more to him than simply a hunting bird. He’d demonstrated some of her abilities as his familiar, which left the patrizia wanting to buy her even more. Najyah didn’t seem to be too impressed and maybe a little offended by the man. The group were invited to stay for an early supper, and at the end of the visit, Isolde’s cousin extended an invitation to them: an open invite to his spring masquerade ball. He said the dryads were often on his guest list as well, though most rarely attended.

Everyone was really excited and talked about the different fancy masks they could wear on their way back to campus on the sky-gondola. Alex noted he’d have to add some more dance moves to his repertoire.

The rest of the break passed well, though Alex spent much of it working at Shale’s, tearing into his textbooks for the upcoming semester, and continuing to sculpt the golem body with Selina.

Alex’s fussiness—just like when it came to cooking—came into play in-part because of the Mark’s continuous refining of his skills. By the end of each sculpting day, he’d be a little more skilled than when the day started. Selina also wanted the body to be as perfect as they could make it and so—when they inevitably noticed a part of the golem that could have been sculpted better—they would go over their work from the previous day, which made the process take longer.

At the end of each work day, their efforts resulted in a golem torso that was looking more and more like a sculpture of a well-proportioned, muscular warrior. All too quickly, school break came to an end and Alex promised Selina they’d continue sculpting around their schedules during the new semester.

As the time for his new classes came on, there was a task ahead that was filling him with both excitement and anxiety.

“Alright, Alex, you can do this,” he said, staring at his reflection in the mirror while moving his hair—now a good three inches longer than when he’d first arrived at Generasi—to the side. On his desk were his potions notes and a new textbook, as well as specific project instructions Jules had handed him for his first self-study project.

Today would be the day he’d be heading to the lab—with some independence—for the very first time.

Also sitting on the desk was a small sack.

Within was a sample of the dungeon core’s remains.

Alex stared at the bag with a smile of anticipation. This was the day he’d been waiting for. This was the day that, in secret, he would begin analysing the Ravener’s dungeon core.

Chapter 32

Haste and Lateness

“Are you sure there’s no way I can help?” Theresa asked.

They’d already taken Selina to school and now were back at their apartment. She had a shift at the beastarium soon—Brutus was already excitedly eyeing the door. “This is important. If I’ve got to say I’m sick to come and help you, I will. You know I will.”

“I thought about that,” Alex said, pacing back and forth. “But there’s nothing you could do. Or Selina or Khalik. In the end, I’ve got to do this alone—and do it while acting as naturally as possible—so people don’t think I’m doing something sneaky. I go to class and to work with Professor Jules and her grad students in the Cells alone. If I suddenly start bringing people, that’ll invite attention.”

Theresa bit her lip. “I really, really wish there was something I could do.”

Alex sighed and touched her shoulder. “Best thing, I think, is to just act normal. That’ll make things easier for me, and then we can talk about whatever I find out—if I find out anything useful.” He chewed his lip. “It’s probably going to take me several sessions analysing it to learn as much as I can anyway.”

“Several means more chances for you to get caught.” Theresa shook her head. “I wish we could just tell the professors about it, but that’ll raise so many questions.”

“Yeah, like ‘how did you get that,’ and ‘who are you that you have that,’” he said. “Even if Jules knew, since she’s so by procedure, I don’t think she’d even let me analyse the stuff, especially alone. Then we’d run the risk of others finding out about me and the Fool. And I think that’d be pretty risky right now, especially with what the dungeon core actually is, and what it means.”

“Yeah,” Theresa said. “Considering what’s happened, now would be a bad time to tell people you have dungeon core remains.”

His memory went back to the demon.

It had attacked the priest of Uldar—who he’d completely avoided since he’d gotten here. Not in a hostile way, but he’d never joined with Carey London or gone to their temple. He was present during the demon attack, and his skills in every class except for force magic were rising abnormally fast.

If he went and told a professor, and those things were to come out, what would they say?

He could well imagine what would happen next.

‘Oh, by the way,’ he imagined himself saying, ‘I’ve had this dust that’s the remains of what’s basically a monster-birthing orb the entire time. A monster-birthing orb that only occurs in the lands of Uldar’s people and is the enemy of Uldar’s church—and why, yes, I do believe that a conjured demon did in fact attack a rally created by an organization dedicated to him. Why, no, that doesn’t make me Prime Suspect Number 1. Wait… stop, why are you putting me in chains?’

Not to mention the fact that—if the demon summoner, whoever it was, was in fact targeting Uldar or priests in general—since he was actually a divinely Chosen Hero, that could lead them to target him should that information about him get out.

The only other being he might consider telling was Baelin. Could he really expect the chancellor not to look at him with even a little bit of suspicion in light of what happened during that rally? He had to consider all of this carefully, because if he said something at the wrong time and things went badly, he couldn’t take it back.

Better he should try and analyse the substance safely on his own before looking for outside help. Besides, a small part of him wanted to see how the stuff worked before he considered telling anyone else about it anyway. Perhaps it had properties that could help him in alchemy. It certainly was rare.

In the end, he’d likely have a far stronger case if he went to Baelin with the analysis of the core complete. He could show him he was working against the Ravener, which would at least place him on the same side as the priests, and not looking like some agent of evil. If it turned out his analysis showed that any part of the dungeon core’s substance was similar to anything used for summoning demons—like elements he’d learned about in Jules’ work with her grad students—then at least he’d be the only one to know.

When the time was right, he figured he’d be comfortable with approaching someone like Baelin, who was neutral to the plight of Thameland and Raveners, Fools and dungeon cores, to share his story and results of his analysis with. After that, he could start working on getting the information to someone he could trust back in Thameland, or even better, get it to them anonymously.

“We just have to be careful like we have been up until now,” Alex said. “And we’ll be okay.”

“Ugh! I wish this was a problem my sword could solve. Since it can’t…” Theresa gave him a worried look, stepped forward and gave him a tight hug. Her warm forehead rested against his chest. “Just be careful, okay?”

Alex wrapped the huntress in his arms. “I will be,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “I’ll be fine.”

‘I’m not fine!’ his mind screamed, going completely renegade as he approached the Cells. ‘I’m going to get caught! I’m going to get caauuught! They’re gonna grab me and throw me in wizard jail. Oh, by the Traveller, what the hell is wizard jail even like? Are there rats? Magic rats? Demonic magic rats!’

He took a deep, meditative breath, attempting to calm himself, and came to a halt on the path. It had been a long time since he’d been nervous about a lab.

He stood in front of the Cells, using the Mark to help himself look as inconspicuous as possible. He still couldn’t help glancing around a little too often, noting the two Watchers of Roal now flanking the entrance. They’d been assigned to that doorway since the demon’s attack—just in case someone used demonology in the Cells to conjure another attacker—and Alex had usually found their presence comforting.

Today, he felt their hard gazes were firmly on him—judging him, seeing his secrets and preparing to haul him off. He told himself it was his imagination running wild, and that was how they normally looked, but he still adjusted the small sack of dungeon core remains on his belt before he reached the door.

“Student identification,” one of them said.

“Here it is,” Alex offered quickly, afraid his voice was going to crack.

The Watcher stared at the circular wooden card for what seemed like forever, nodded grimly and passed the card back without a word.

Inside were more Watchers, placed at equidistant points in the hallway. Alex casually made his way upstairs as fast as he dared, trying to nonchalantly meet their gazes. Look away too fast, and he’d look suspicious, but stare too much, and he’d also look suspicious.

The remains of the dungeon core were a massive weight pulling on his belt, and he kept imagining some magical ward sensing it and immediately alerting the Watchers to his secret stash. No alarm went up, though, and rationally, he knew he was being irrational. Recently, he’d started to understand many of the glyphs that warded the Cells, thanks to his magic lore class—such as those surrounding the front doors that prevented them from opening unless one had valid identification.

No glyphs he’d encountered so far seemed to be for the purpose of analysing contraband materials and sending up alarms. Then again, if that sort of magical know-how existed and was so easy to craft, then material analysis in alchemy would be a lot quicker and easier.

He thought about what Professor Jules told him about how magical devices advanced as the ambient mana in Generasi rose. In a way, he wished it were a hundred years into the future. Perhaps by that time—when the Ravener was reborn—it’d be easier to analyse. Then again, if he was wishing to be born in a different time, he might as well wish to be born in between the Ravener’s returns.

Or born during a time when they’d permanently beaten the damn thing into dust.

As he approached the door to Cell-301—his assigned Cell for the semester during the same two hours every other week—he shook his thoughts away. When he was worried, his mind had a tendency to focus on well… his worries and other unrelated thoughts.

And he would need all of his focus for what was next.

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand around the door handle and pulled.

“Hng!” he grunted.

It didn’t budge.

He tried it again. It still didn’t budge.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Alex groaned.

The room was locked and there wasn’t a single sound coming from it. Unless he’d passed out in there, it likely meant the grad student who was supposed to open the room and supervise him hadn’t arrived yet.

Which meant he was stuck out here.

He glanced to the side.

One of the Watchers of Roal—seated down the hall—was looking at him. The grizzled man gave him a nod, then went back to systematically scanning the hall and ceiling.

Alex sighed.

Of course. Of course his supervisor would be late and leave him to stand out in the hall all by himself while he was as nervous as a flea on a scratching dog and wanting nothing more than to get his scheme over with.

Alex turned around and leaned against the wall, cursing internally and exhaling loudly. He glanced at the Watcher. Maybe he could use this. If he could get into the lab before his supervisor arrived, he’d have a lot more freedom to perform some tests.

“Hey,” he said quietly to the Watcher. “Excuse me.”

“Hrm? Something the matter?”

“Yeah, a bit.” Alex jerked his thumb toward the door behind him. “I got this project and I’m supposed to get started, but the grad student that’s supposed to supervise me isn’t here yet. Think you could let me in?”

The Watcher shook his head. “Sorry, never seen you before. Can’t do that. Besides, if they’re supervising you, then they should be here first.”

“Ah, okay,” Alex said. “Thanks anyway.”

“No problem.”

Long uncomfortable minutes passed while Alex waited in the hall, eventually starting to pace back and forth. Finally, he heard footsteps rapidly ascending the stairs.

“Sorry, sorry!” a voice shouted, and a man wearing a tall, black cone cap burst into the hall. At the noise, Alex noticed the Watcher giving the other young man a look of disapproval.

“Are you Alex Roth?” the man stopped, scratching the stubble on his face.

“Yeah.” Alex extended his hand to shake the other man’s. “Are you my supervisor?”

“I am.” The man nodded, trying to catch his breath. “Amir Abu Saleh, at your service. And you?” He paused. “Agh, no wait, I just asked that. Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s alright.” Alex looked at the grad student’s sweat-drenched features. The young man looked like he’d sprinted a mile. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes.” He continued to pant, trying to catch his breath. “Last tutorial went long. Ran here not to waste… too much of your time. Here, let’s get you started.”

Amir fumbled with a few keys on a ring and slipped one into the lock.

Clk.

The door to the Cell opened.

Alex stepped inside and whistled in wonder.

His very own laboratory. At least… his laboratory for the next two hours. Well, what was left of the next two hours. The Cell was well-equipped—not quite the size of Cell-207 where his class had done the practicum in the first semester—but the stations were much larger than those in 207.

Each station was made up of a wide, freestanding desk, with plenty of room for cauldrons, flasks, titration devices and mana vacuums. Suspended above each was a mana waste container that was much larger and more robust than those in the general classroom.

He smiled when he saw the big, beautiful mana waste container.

Even beyond being able to analyse the dungeon core, having access to such a space would allow for far more in-depth experiments and for more powerful potions to be crafted. There was room here for more intricate equipment, and the larger mana vacuum meant he could create greater magical reactions without fear of, well, blowing off his own face.

There was only one small immediate issue.

None of the equipment he needed was ready and—for the potion Jules assigned him to craft—he needed a fair amount of intricate apparatuses. Was he supposed to get them himself?

“Um, should I get everything set up?”

“No, no, again, my apologies.” Amir set his bag down on one end of the Cell. He scratched the closely cropped hair on his scalp. “There are a few things you can set up, but there’re some apparatuses that we’ll have to bring from the supply closet. The good news is once we set them up, we can leave most of them at your station for the semester since they’re the sort of devices you’ll be using for multiple reactions. So, what do you say we go fetch them now?”

He gave a weak smile and started heading for the door.

Alex fought the urge to shake his head… and his supervisor.

He was given access to this lab every other week. That was roughly six times during the semester, unless he could get an extra booking in, and—with how busy the Cells were—that wasn’t likely. He had a limited amount of time to do his analysis.

And now, the first of his sessions was being eaten away because his supervisor was late and hadn’t set up.

He took a deep breath as he followed Amir to get the equipment, keeping the sample of dungeon core remains close. Today, he would need to craft the potion Jules had set for him safely but as quickly as possible and—somewhere during the process—try and analyse an aspect of the dungeon core’s remains.

He couldn’t rush the potion, and it was one that would be very useful for him.

A Potion of Haste, which doubled running speed, reaction time, reflexes and speed of thought. It would be his first third-tier potion.

Alex hoped he’d have enough time for everything he needed to do.

Chapter 33

Secret Analysis

Alex carefully shifted the sack that held the dungeon core’s remains from his belt, and slipped it into one of the leather pockets of his lab apron.

He glanced at Amir, who’d taken a seat at the far end of the Cell and was poring over notes laid out in front of him. The grad student kept looking up at Alex, dividing his attention between his notes and the younger student.

Alex nodded at him, but made a sour face behind his mask. When he’d seen how scattered Amir was, he’d hoped the supervisor wouldn’t pay much attention to him during the lab. Unfortunately, Amir was multitasking while regularly checking on Alex.

Well, Alex would have to examine the dungeon core the hard way then.

He’d concocted a plan while they were getting the equipment from the supply room: first, Alex would subtly prepare the sample of core remains. Then, he’d run some analysis on it while he was analysing ingredients for the potion by slipping some into the testing apparatuses in between the ingredients he was actually supposed to be analysing for this lab.

To Amir—across the room—it would just look like Alex was doing the work he was supposed to do. He wouldn’t be the wiser unless Alex screwed up, or something unexpected happened, or the grad student randomly sprinted over to check on the experiment and demanded to know ‘What the hell is that!’ when he saw the dungeon core’s remains.

The downside, he’d only be able to use the apparatuses required for the assigned experiment: a mana spectrometer and Kamookak’s Moss. They would test a substance’s composition and toxicity respectively. He’d used them a number of times, including during the lab where his classmate drank quicksilver. Other equipment—that could test different aspects of the remains—weren’t taken out for him this time since they weren’t necessary for this experiment. He’d have to plan on using those when he got access with future experiments.

He also wouldn’t be able to get many tries at the analysis today.

Mana spectrometers were run at different times, depending on a substance’s composition. The more complex the substance, the longer a spectrometer would have to run in order to break it down and indicate what elements it was composed of. The issue was that running it for too long would often break a substance down too much and not generate any usable data. It would be like taking apart a large piece of wooden furniture to transport it. If the furniture wasn’t broken down enough, it would never fit through doorways. If it was broken down too much, it would just be splinters; no one would have any idea how those splinters fit together to make up the piece of furniture.

It would be the same with a mana spectrometer. Instead of coloured bands to indicate a substance’s composition, the readout would just be a chaotic array of tiny dots.

With unknown substrates, it was best practice to use a variety of set times when using a mana spectrometer for analysis, making an educated guess as to what time would be a good starting point. For example, if one had a simple substance to analyse, they might start off with running the spectrometer for twenty-one seconds—the recommended time for first-tier potions—and if that didn’t break down the substance into all of its component elements, the next step would be running it at the recommended time for second-tier potions, which was thirty-one seconds. Or the time for third-tier potions, which was thirty-eight seconds and so on.

The trouble was that figuring out how long to analyse the dungeon core’s remains would be a practice of trial and error. Should he keep running the mana spectrometer half a dozen times without a proper explanation, he’d likely raise some uncomfortable questions and an eyebrow from Amir. There was also the danger that the substance might be too complex to practically run it through this model of mana spectrometer. More complex substances took increasingly longer times for mana spectrometers to break down. A ninth-tier potion would take nearly six hours to analyse with this model, which was why more high-powered models were used with more complex substances.

He could only hope that the dungeon core’s remains would be simple enough to analyse and wouldn’t take suspiciously long. But only trial and error would conclude that.

First things first. Kamookak’s Moss will determine its toxicity, and for that, he would need to either melt the dust or use a magical solvent to make it into a liquid.

He set his station up so his mana vacuum was in the potion flask. Now came the first tricky part. Applying heat to the dust might have unforeseen effects, and he also had no idea if the mana solvent would react unexpectedly. The solvent was safety rated to not react dangerously with most substances, but there was always a risk when mixing any unknown substance with anything else.

Well, that was what the mana vacuum, mask, goggles, apron and gloves were for.

Carefully, he undid the bag of dungeon core remains in his apron pocket and took a pinch of the powder with his gloved fingers. He thought back to when he’d scooped up the substance with his bare hands back in the Cave of the Traveller. That had broken so many safety protocols, Professor Jules would likely have an aneurism if she knew.

He carefully dropped the dust into the flask, glancing over his shoulder and nearly jumping when he saw Amir looking right at him. “Everything alright over there?” the grad student asked.

“Yep,” Alex said.

“Good, good,” Amir said contentedly, and went back to his work.

‘You were literally created by the gods to give me a heart attack, weren’t you?’ Alex thought grumpily as he weighed the substance, mentally subtracting the weight of the flask from the number the scale’s brass arrow pointed to.

Shifting the flask to the heat source, he activated it, bringing the flame up to lick around the hardened glass.

He watched the dark powder for a couple of minutes, but the heat wouldn’t melt it.

‘Alright, Plan B.’

He took up the bottle of solvent and poured some of it into a test tube; he would use a volume of solvent equal to the weight of the dust. He turned off the burner, waited for the glass to cool, and then added the liquid.

Hssssss!

For a brief second, Alex thought he killed himself.

The substance began hissing and steaming as it met the solvent. He imagined himself consumed by a horrible magical fireball. He kept his hand on the mana vacuum, watching as the reaction slowly died down.

“What was that?” Amir said.

“Oh, just dropped a bit of water into the flame. Stupid mistake, sorry,” Alex said.

“Oh, well, be careful… but it happens.”

He heard the rustle of Amir going back to his own activities.

He let out a sigh of relief as the dungeon core’s remains and the solvent combined into a liquid that was as black as night. Alex shuddered as he remembered the inky blackness of the dungeon core and how it thrummed as it absorbed its victims’ fear. He set the liquified sample aside and started on the assigned procedure for crafting a Potion of Haste.

Glancing at the time, he began planning how to complete each step of the procedure efficiently to get things done as quickly as possible. He was intensely conscious of the time, and that the Cell was booked right after him. He’d have to finish everything and have it all cleaned up before time ran out.

Luckily, even though the Potion of Haste was more powerful than anything he’d made before, it had many core similarities to the Potion of Running Enhancement. He went through those steps with ease, applying the solvent to the solid ingredients—which didn’t hiss, he noted bitterly—and then used his mana conductor to guide the reaction in the proper direction.

As he continued stirring the substance, he conjured a pair of Wizard’s Hands in front of him and willed them to begin the clean-up. The magical constructs carefully carried some of the dirty tools he no longer needed to the sink across the room.

Amir gave a grunt of approval. “Very good, we might finish on time if you clean up while you’re guiding the reaction.”

“That’s the plan!” Alex said with exaggerated cheer.

Once his magical hands returned, he started using them for their real purpose.

Carefully, he scraped away a portion of Kamookak’s Moss from the steel jar it was stored in and applied it to a small, coin-sized sample plate. He casually shifted his body so it was well-placed between Amir and his spell, then he willed Wizard’s Hand to take up a dropper and draw a sample of the liquified dungeon core remains. Alex cautiously released a few drops onto the moss and waited for any colour change.

His jaw clenched when the moss changed from its normal blue shade to a yellow-green. That indicated there was a slight toxicity to the substance, but not to dangerous levels. Sterilizing alcohol also made Kamookak’s Moss turn that colour. The substance in question could be handled, even contact the skin with, but ingesting it would likely be a terrible idea.

Alex was very glad he’d had his mask on when the stuff started hissing. Next would be running it through the mana spectrometer, but that would have to wait until he was testing the potion’s composition.

He used Wizard’s Hand to carry the moss sample to the disposal bin, then returned his attention to brewing Potion of Haste, glancing again at the glowing timekeeper on the wall. Ironically, a potion that doubled his speed in all things would have been very handy at the moment.

Hsssss!

He gasped. His potion was hissing ominously in the flask. Something it definitely shouldn’t have been doing.

“Oh shit!”

His eyes grew wide as the liquid began to climb the sides of the flask and glow with a silvery light. Without hesitation, he hit the switch on the mana vacuum, watching as the energy was sucked out of the reaction and into the mana waste container. The energy still glowed in the container.

The substance—now without mana to fuel the magical reaction—immediately stopped climbing the flask. It merely boiled as flame continued to heat it. Alex cut the heat.

“Damn it,” he swore.

“What happened?” A chair scraped and footsteps began to move behind him. Almost in a panic, he grabbed the flask with the dungeon core’s liquified sample and moved it behind the mana spectrometer, sliding it between the device and the protective shield that rose from the back of the work table.

He turned to Amir, making sure to get his attention. “Agh, reaction got away from me. Had to vacuum it.”

“Ah, that happens to the best of us.” Amir squinted at the flask of incomplete potion. “What step were you on?”

Moving his body slightly so that it was between Amir and the mana spectrometer, he described the part of the reaction he’d been guiding when things began to get out of hand. Listening to Alex’s explanation intently, Amir’s eyes lit up behind his mask.

“That’s it,” Amir said. “Swiftling’s Tears break down a lot faster than quicksilver, so if you don’t control specifically how they take in mana, they’ll get away from you.”

“Oooh,” Alex groaned.

“It’s a finicky ingredient.” Amir shrugged. “And this is your first time brewing a third-tier potion, right? That’s the point of doing this in a lab: you can make mistakes, learn from them and get better. If we’d gotten alchemy right the first time we tried something, we wouldn’t need a school for it. Start again, and use the mana from the first reaction to fuel the second.”

“Yeah, got it,” Alex said, glancing at the timekeeper as Amir walked back to his desk.

It was going to be close.

Quickly, he went through the earlier steps of the potion recipe again, using the Mark to guide him through all of his most successful moments. This time, he made sure to focus all his attention on the reaction. Trying to speed through the steps with his focus split had been a bad idea.

Rookie mistake.

He took a deep, meditative breath and guided the reaction through its steps, acknowledging each distracting thought that came to him and then letting them go.

This time, the potion went as per procedure and—soon enough—he had a complete Potion of Haste. Now came the sneaky part.

He decided to run the dungeon core sample through the mana spectrometer first, running the spectrometer for the same amount of time as he would for a third-tier potion. It would be the least conspicuous way to start, since a Potion of Haste was third-tier and he’d be running it for that length of time too.

Adding the black substance to the mana spectrometer, he waited thirty-eight seconds, nervously tapping the desk. That half a minute felt more like half a day, and he nearly pounced on the mana spectrometer when the process finished.

Taking out the sample and the paper readout for the dungeon core sample, he then placed some of the completed Potion of Haste into the mana spectrometer. Letting out a sigh of relief at getting the process for the dungeon core finished, he glanced down at the results, making a quiet sound of discontent.

A lot of the readout was a slurry of multiple shades. Only some of it had come out as the coloured bars that indicated a substance’s composition. He’d need to run the spectrometer longer to fully break down what the dungeon core was made of.

He sighed, nearly about to put the paper down but paused, focusing more closely on the coloured bars. There was something familiar about the pattern.

His eyes went wide.

He’d seen this composition before.

Chapter 34

Essence of Dungeon

It wasn’t something a first-year or even a typical second-year student would recognize, and the only reason Alex knew anything about it was because of helping Professor Jules with her experiment.

The dungeon core—or at least the part of it the mana spectrometer had broken down—read almost identical to—

Alex recalled a smoky cauldron and a being whose presence twisted his senses.

—chaos essence.

That didn’t mean for sure the dungeon core was made of chaos essence or that it had chaos essence in it, just that part of its composition was unmistakably similar. The core likely shared properties with chaos essence.

Alex frowned, thinking back on the dungeon core’s abilities and what it had shown during the fight in the Cave. For one, it created a variety of monsters from its own mana. That implied a certain… malleability, to its mana. It could be used to create different monsters like the smaller silence-spiders or the massive soldiers. It could use what it created to infest a space and then alter the walls and structure of the area.

He thought about other dungeon cores from past legends. It was said they had created a truly wide variety of creatures, and he had personally encountered arachnids with massive sword-blade-claw-things.

Its similarity to chaos essence made some sense in that case. The odd thing was how stable it was. At no time did the dungeon core ever show any signs of shifting or changing shape when he touched it. Its remains were constant, starting as dust and remaining as dust. If it were like chaos essence, then it should have continued shifting its shape.

His frown deepened.

That implied some sort of stabilizing agent in its structure. He wasn’t sure if that was correct, but it gave him clues for what to look for as he continued his analysis. He was pleased with the results so far, though. Even incomplete analysis using one tool had generated the beginnings of answers.

He slipped the readout into his pocket, and took the Potion of Haste back out of the mana spectrometer. As he did, he took a long, admiring look at the device and thought back about what Professor Jules said about the advancement of alchemy and magical devices.

The mana spectrometer was a marvel of wizardry, one that—according to his textbook—had been invented roughly seventy years before. It was an instrument that didn’t function outside of Generasi itself. There’d been a chapter on the history of alchemy that Professor Jules expanded on in her lectures.

Alex shuddered.

That part of the course had been gruesome. The section was all about how many horrors early wizards inflicted on themselves in their quest to uncover the secrets of alchemy and magical substances. Apparently, the very first golem had been a monstrosity. The link between its consciousness and its creator’s mind had been too strong, and it received a constant stream of the wizard’s thoughts, joys, lusts, insecurities, fears, hatreds, rages and other emotions it had no way of knowing how to process.

The weight of these mental weaknesses piled onto the construct, overwhelming it until it began to rampage, and eventually, had to be destroyed. Five hundred years later, with advancements in spellcraft, alchemical tools, a greater understanding of magical lore and an awareness of the interconnectivity of things, wizards came to understand that the golem’s creator crafted its core in such a way to connect too deeply with its creator’s thoughts.

From then on, the creation of golems became a far safer process, growing more and more advanced until something like Shale’s Workshop could exist in modern times.

“Imprecision and guesswork,” Professor Jules had said. “That’s what cursed and plagued the early alchemists.”

He glanced at the black substance within the sample flask.

‘I wonder just what kind of tools the wizards were working with the last time you got analysed,’ he thought. ‘Maybe with these more advanced tools, I—and maybe others—will be able to find out more about what makes you work.’

“Are you almost done over there?” Amir asked. “It’s almost time to vacate the lab.”

“Yep, you wanna take a look? I’m just going to finish cleaning up in the meantime and make a note in my notebook. Something to remember for later.”

He slid the flask with the dungeon core’s liquified sample into another of his apron pockets. While Amir was examining his Potion of Haste on the other side of the room, Alex took an empty potion bottle out of his bag under pretence of retrieving his notebook.

He had no problem quietly transferring the sample from the flask into his potion bottle and stoppering it, thanks to his movements being more precise and silent with the Mark. As long as it didn’t degrade, then it would already be in liquid form for future tests, which would save him time. He also definitely didn’t feel comfortable disposing of it anywhere until he knew more.

“The Potion of Haste looks good,” Amir said. “Excellent work. Bring the report by my office in Cell-B07 next week, and I think you’ll do very well. For now, the potion is all yours. It’s safe for you to ingest, but use it wisely.”

“Gotcha,” Alex said, half-listening.

A question began brewing in his mind, one he would ask Professor Jules during next class.

“Hey,” he said to Amir as he was stuffing his possessions into his bag. “You know what equipment we’ll need for the next experiment?”

“Let’s see.” Amir flipped through his notes and handed Alex his upcoming assignment. “It looks like a manohmeter, a viscometric device and a piccoscope.”

“Gotcha,” he said, thinking about what he knew about those devices.

The manohmeter tested for mana conductivity, and he’d used one before. The viscometric device measured a liquid ingredient’s viscosity and how well it combined with certain other magical compounds. They were supposed to be learning about it in class this week, which was when he would ask his question.

The piccoscope was one of the instruments he’d heard of and read about in his textbook for second semester. It was a device that used illusion magic and a form of divination magic to project the image of miniscule things onto a glass lens that one would look through. With it, he could see the tiny substructure of the shattered core and be able to compare it with other substances to look for similarities.

“Do you think maybe we could start a little early next time?” Alex asked. “Just to get the equipment set up, if you don’t get a chance to.”

Amir blew out a breath. “I am very busy. Very, very busy. But you never know.”

Alex sighed, stifling his irritation.

“So… it’s made of the same stuff that came from that monster your professor summoned?” Theresa asked quietly.

They were hidden in a bower within the beastarium during Theresa’s lunch break, speaking in low voices. By now, the young huntress knew the beastarium like the palm of her hand, so it was easy to find a private place to talk.

Brutus stood lookout, using sharp senses from three noses, six eyes and six ears; on guard for anyone coming close—including any animals.

One never knew which bird or beast could be a wizard’s familiar.

“Maybe. At least it’s structurally similar,” Alex said.

“What do you mean?” Theresa asked.

“It’s like…” Alex grappled for an uncomplicated way to explain it. “It’s like how oak trees and apple trees are both different, but they’re both still trees. One makes apples, which oak trees don’t, but both have bark, both grow tall, have leaves and put roots down in the earth.”

“Right.” Theresa tapped her chin, puzzling through it. “Basically, it might be similar to the stuff from that horrible monster, or it might even be the same. Either way, it sounds like it’s going to have some of the same properties.”

“That’s what it looks like,” Alex said.

Her brows furrowed. “Do you think the Ravener comes from the same place as that monster thing did?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Alex said, thinking back on it. “Maybe originally.”

“What do you mean?” Theresa asked.

“Well, according to the legend, the Ravener first appears in Thameland a long, long time ago and caused a disaster, right? Well, these shoggoths and their masters are also very, very old and very powerful, according to Professor Jules. Before the Heroes, it took a god to beat the Ravener.”

“Right. And you said these… shoggoth things don’t really… ‘work’ like creatures from our world do. Maybe that’s why the Ravener keeps coming back after the Heroes kill it—but… wait.” Her frown deepened. “If it’s like one of these monsters that aren’t from our world, then why would humans be able to control its dungeon cores? And you said it was similar to that thing that goes inside of golems—”

“Golem cores.”

“Yeah, those. You said it’s like that, right? So why would it be similar to a golem core if it was one of those horrible, shifty shoggoth chaos monsters.”

“Those are damned good questions,” Alex said. “Soon I’m going to have access to different tools that’ll let me uncover more aspects of the dungeon core remains. Then, once I get some more results, maybe Baelin will be able to give me some answers.”

“Right, right… Lots of questions… lots of questions. Still makes you wonder why the Fool is so looked down upon if the Mark is so useful. Or even why Uldar would make the Fool unable to fight, do magic or use divinity in the first place.”

“Yeah… all really good questions. We’ll see what happens and what answers I come up with when I get the remains under the piccoscope.”

“The what now?”

He explained the device to her, and she shook her head.

“Wow, that makes my head spin even thinking about it. Now what?”

“Now I talk to Jules. There’s a certain question I want to ask her about this stuff. Depending on her answer, the dungeon core might be able to help us.”

She raised an eyebrow. “How would it be able to help us?”

“Well, I’ll tell you a little more when I figure out more,” Alex said, tapping the side of his nose.

Over the last few hours, a mad, stupid, horrifying, insane idea had been brewing in his mind. One that the rational part of his brain was screaming for him not to even consider.

However, now that it had nestled its way in, he couldn’t quite shake it. He’d need to finish his analysis of the dungeon core’s remains first. Especially because he needed a full idea as to its mana conductivity. Getting the full spectrum of its composition would be necessary too.

In the meantime, he would ask Professor Jules his question. Depending on how she answered: if he got what he was looking for, then potentially, the dungeon core’s remains could be—

“You know, being all mysterious is really overrated.” Theresa crossed her arms.

“Not if you’re the one being mysterious.” Alex smirked mischievously. “Then it’s pretty damn awesome.”

“Ugh, next thing you know, you’ll be putting on a mask and costume and going around like bloody Robbing Hood.”

“Hmmmmm,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought. “What do you think of the name ‘Robbing Fool’?”

“I think it’s terrible.”

“Your taste is terrible.”

Theresa stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing. She laughed so hard, Brutus actually turned around and stared at her.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I’ll talk a little more about that later.” She grinned.

Alex sucked in a breath like he’d been mortally wounded. “You dare, Theresa Lu, you dare use my own words against me?”

“Hey, it’s fun when you’re the one being mysterious, right?” She got up, humming to herself and sauntered off from among the trees.

Brutus looked at Alex for a long moment, walked over, gave his face a lick and then bounded after his master.

Alex shook his head. “Now the dog is giving me pity licks.”

Chapter 35

Preparing to do Horrifying Things

“Welcome to a new semester,” Professor Jules said from the front of the class as she drew a diagram of the viscometric device on the obsidian board. Turning around, she gave them all a solemn look. “Welcome to you all, whether you’ve transferred from other schools or are from here at Generasi. I am glad to see so many of you who’ve made it to the second semester of my class.”

Alex stiffened.

“So many of you?” he muttered, turning around to take in the class.

POTI-1200—the second semester follow-up to POTI-1000—used the same classroom as in semester one, allowing Alex to see exactly how many faces he recognized, and by default, how many had gotten the minimum seventy percent passing grade.

The number of faces he didn’t recognize surprised him.

Last semester, nearly every seat was filled. Some students had looked bright-eyed and enthusiastic, some nervous, and some like they didn’t want to be there. Early in the semester, several dropped the course and switched to another one, which had decreased their number. Overall, the class remained fairly full, including on the day they’d written the final exam.

Now, at least a quarter of the seats were empty, and a good number of the filled ones held new faces—students who transferred into the second semester course from other institutions of wizardry from around the world. That meant even more than a quarter of the class failed. Among those missing were the young man who drank quicksilver and his friend.

‘So many of us passed?’ Alex shook his head. ‘If Professor Jules meant a high number passed first semester this year compared to other years, then how many failed in previous years?’

Luckily—and unluckily—there were still familiar faces here and there.

Kybas the goblin, with his little crocodile familiar—Harmless—sat beside Alex humming to himself and kicking his little green legs against his chair. He seemed to be checking over a potion recipe in his notebook, but turned his large head and grinned toothily when he saw Alex looking at him.

Alex grinned back, then glanced over his shoulder.

Carey and Derek were sitting beside each other in the middle of the class. It seemed Derek had been able to pass this time and—if he’d outright cheated—he’d gotten a lot more clever with it. Or maybe a mix of taking the class before and studying with the talented Carey London had gotten him through the worst the exam had to offer. Or maybe he’d just started actually trying. Alex didn’t know him very well, but he didn’t seem thick-witted, just tricky and maybe lazy.

Maybe he had what it took after all. Either way, Alex was glad he seemed attached to his new victi—er, study partner—and not him.

“Many of you made it,” Professor Jules said. “That is the good news. The bad news is, POTI-1200 is significantly more challenging than first semester.”

A wave of murmurs and groans swept through the class.

“I know, I know.” Professor Jules smiled bitterly. “That’s not because I’m aiming to make it more difficult; it is that you’re now approaching the tail end of what could be called ‘the basics.’ This semester, you will graduate from crafting first-tier to second-tier potions, and that will be significantly more challenging. More importantly, though.” She tapped the diagram of the machine on the board. “You will start to learn your tools far more intimately.”

Alex’s interest piqued. That was something the textbook hadn’t talked much about. Dexter had been written to go into great detail about the arts of potion craft, but hadn’t really been in-depth on the tools used in potion craft. Their use was discussed, as well as correct procedure and protocol, plus some of their history, but aside from that, the potions textbook was about, well, potions, as opposed to the tools used in the art.

He glanced back at Derek. Since he was taking both semesters of first-year potions all over again, having been caught cheating in his first-year, he should—

Derek looked puzzled.

‘Oh, maybe this is new for this year,’ Alex thought.

“Alchemical tools are advancing incredibly quickly,” Professor Jules said. “When I was your age, there was no such thing as a mana spectrometer. To understand the composition of a substance, we had to engage in a process known as Saunderson’s Distillation.”

She drew what looked to be a curtain on the board.

“One would use a solvent to break down a part of a substance and then boil it in a cauldron or other such device where the steam would rise onto a special curtain woven of Willowhorn. After the cloth absorbed the mana-infused steam—a process that often took upwards of twenty minutes of constant boiling—we would then hang it up to dry for two hours and then measure how much distance each component of the compound had travelled up the curtain and consult several…”

She shuddered.

“…very extensive tables to guess which element was which. It was a hot, lengthy, though fairly accurate, process. The mana spectrometer is far quicker and more precise. My teachers learned Laplace’s Summoning: a dangerous art where one conjures a demonic sage and bargains with the creature to have it call upon its otherworldly knowledge and reveal what a substance did, or have it check a completed potion for impurities.”

She looked at each student, probably making note of who was paying attention and who wasn’t. Her eyes fell on Harmless. “Before that, wizards often resorted to gruesome experiments where they simply fed some of their alchemical substances to a victim and watched for a reaction. Some would even use their own familiars… As you can imagine, this was a practice filled with its own drawbacks.”

Kybas protectively clutched his crocodile to his chest. The little reptile chirped in his grasp.

“Now, back to modern tools. These make alchemy far more humane, safe and reliable, but they come with a price.” She began drawing ten strange-looking components onto the board. “Can anyone tell me what these are?”

She glanced around the room.

Alex squinted at the board, then looked to Kybas.

Both of them shrugged. Neither had an answer.

One student raised his hand. “Are those parts of a mana spectrometer?”

“Indeed, very good!” Professor Jules said with an excited twinkle in her eye. “And where did you learn that?”

“Uh…” He turned slightly red. “I saw one in a shop… and uh, my friend, accidentally knocked it off the display and broke it and some pieces fell out, so I recognized a few of them.”

Several members of the class burst out laughing, and even Professor Jules giggled.

“Oh dear, that sounds like a costly accident! How much did your friend have to pay the merchant for breaking the device?” she asked.

He gulped. “Er… Ten thousand gold coins.”

Alex gasped, thinking he would have died on the spot if it had been him.

Horrified, he remembered himself and Amir bringing the heavy apparatuses to the Cell for his experiment.

One slip of either of their forcedisks and—

“Ah yes, that sounds about right.” Professor Jules pointed back to the board. “By the way, these ten parts? They are ten of forty-two components within a mana spectrometer. Now what happens when this complex bit of machinery breaks down or when it falls apart, and before you say ‘I’ll just use mending magic!’, well yes, you can. But what if it isn’t broken, what if some of the parts are simply misaligned? Or a new discovery requires one of the parts to be replaced to increase efficiency? Perhaps more simply: more complex objects need higher tier mending spells in order to be fixed, and what if you don’t know one? And, let me calm you as I see some of you starting to think of what I might be getting at and are looking like you’re considering running in horror out the door.”

She looked at some of the students, who shifted in their chairs.

“While this is not an ‘alchemical tool crafting course,’ it is still valuable to know the inner workings of your equipment in case you need to make a quick and simple repair, part replacement, or upgrade. There aren’t many wizards who can craft these yet, and you might be in trouble if you discover one has stopped working—mending magic seems to not be fixing it at all—and you find the crafter that made the model is so busy, they need to book you six months out. Which brings us back to the viscometric device.”

She pointed to the diagram. “It is fairly simple compared to many other apparatuses, as such, we will be starting with it. These will be valuable lessons for your future. Remember, just as a wizard is limited by the spells they know and a potion is limited by the ingredients available, the alchemically inclined wizard is limited by the quality and working order of their tools and methods. Therefore, keeping your tools in good working order is key.”

Alex nodded at that, focusing while Wizard’s Hand was jotting down everything the professor said. He was pretty damn excited to learn more about how these devices were put together. Since he wasn’t sure where he’d end up after graduation—if he went back to Thameland or somewhere else far away—he wouldn’t be able to rely on simply strolling down to the nearest alchemy supply and repair shop for his tools.

He’d need to be self-sufficient and maybe even learn how to craft spare parts for his devices.

That said, it was also good to take advantage of knowledge and resources when one had them.

And even if he didn’t tell Professor Jules about the dungeon core, she’d still be able to help him out with one question that had been bothering him.

“Well, that’s a strange question, Mr. Roth,” Professor Jules mused after class. “Do substances that come from incredibly evil creatures remain evil after the creature has been slain and dissected—What brought this on?”

“Well, I was thinking about that demon,” he said, which wasn’t a complete lie. “The big one. Other demons flowed out of its wings, and its breath was cold like ice. I was thinking that materials from such a creature would be really useful for things like teleportation effects or cooling effects. But… y’know, it’s a demon.”

“Well, first of all, not all demons are evil. And even then, that would depend on your standard of ‘evil,’” she said.

“Oh… What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“Demons are creatures of chaos in a way that few things are, except for perhaps the shoggoths and their kin. They are beings of ultimate freedom: unbound by law, morality, emotional bonds or hesitancy. When a demon has a desire, it acts upon it most of the time. The thing is, boundless chaos and freedom is often evil by our standards,” she explained. “A demon murders often, not out of a desire to ‘make the world evil,’ but because it was acting on a momentary urge and saw no reason to contain itself. Devils are the opposite: creatures of law where one’s word, pact or contract trumps everything else. This includes morality, emotional bonds or hesitance.”

She shrugged. “Both kinds of creatures can exhibit altruism; it’s just that those extremes often negate such behaviour. Each creature has their own preferences, after all.”

Alex recalled Hobb’s contention that mortals were cute and that he was bound not to attack or steal souls from students. He shuddered.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said. “So, a demon is a being of ultimate chaos… Does that mean every material harvested from one contains that chaos?”

Professor Jules took a deep breath. “Yes and no. A demon’s soul will contain overwhelming chaos and evil, if harvested, but its claws are just sharp bits of bone. One can harvest the claws in such a way to ensure they’re infested with their former owner’s chaos and evil, but one can easily not do so as well.”

“Right. What about a mana vampire’s ability to drain mana? Would its body parts retain that ability… you know, if it didn’t melt when you killed it?”

“No, actually. The gas a mana vampire dissolves into has been harvested before, and it does show a major ability to absorb and store mana, but it on its own has no ability to drain mana. An item crafted with the express purpose of draining mana would benefit from the remains of a mana vampire, but the remains have other applications as well.”

“Alright, alright.” Alex spread his hands. “Okay, so. Say I killed a demon.”

“Please don’t try it.”

“I’m not gonna try it, but say I did and then decided to make a flesh golem.”

“Right.”

“And I took the demon’s flesh, rendered it down, and made a flesh golem out of the remains. What would happen? Would it be super chaotic and have its magical abilities from when it was alive?”

Professor shook her head. “No, it would not express any of the magical abilities it showed when alive, unless one specifically built mana circuitry within to specifically reactivate and mimic those abilities. It would not suddenly remember its old life, and no, it would not become a full demon again just by using the material. Such happenings are the subject of bad stage plays and ghost stories wizards tell other wizards. Demon scale, flesh and bone are valuable ingredients for a number of potions—even their inner chaos is absent unless one uses a catalyst that mimics the chaos of a demon soul. Such as chaos essence.”

“Okay, that takes care of my curiosity. Thanks, professor.” Alex smiled.

“It’s quite alright…” She looked at him suspiciously.

“What is it?” Alex asked, looking as innocent as the Mark made possible.

“Oh nothing.” She chuckled. “It’s just I have a feeling you will end up one of those wizards that won’t be satisfied until you craft something truly horrifying one day.”

“What? Me?”

“Yes. You, naturally. Somehow, I can imagine you in a smoky dungeon somewhere shouting, ‘It’s alive! It’s alive!’ after building some sort of blasphemous homunculus,” she said.

“…Maybe in the future,” he chuckled.

“Well, alchemists are supposed to craft horrifying things, so there is no judgement from me. As long as you do it correctly and as safely as possible, Mr. Roth, what you do with your gifts is your choice. That is the point of training wizards.”

“Well, I’ll try and make you proud, Prof,” Alex said, remembering her masked figure riding around on her skeletal horse. “And make something truly horrifying.”

‘Probably sooner than you might think,’ he mentally added.

What she said about materials not sharing their old allegiances and magically destructive nature supported the mad scheme he had in mind.

If he finished his analysis on the dungeon core, and its properties proved to be proper, then—with its similarity to chaos essence—he should be able to use some of it in fashioning his golem core.

The idea of bashing the Ravener’s monsters with its own material thrilled him.

Still, though…

There was one problem concerning the golem he hadn’t quite solved yet: powering it. The initial activation of the golem core—if he really wanted this golem to be of high quality—would need far more mana to start it than he was capable of providing himself, and if it didn’t have enough from an outside source, then the golem core might suck the fire-gems dry in an effort to activate itself.

It was a problem he’d have to continue working on.

For now, he needed to plan out his next analysis session. Oh, and prepare for his other classes this semester.

In the next little while, it would be time for his first second-year class, MANA-2900: The Intermediary Teachings of Mana Manipulation.

Chapter 36

Direction and Redirection

“Well met, Alex!” Isolde smiled politely as he poked his head into the new classroom.

He gasped.

If he thought Professor Jules’ class had gotten smaller between first and second semester, then Val’Rok’s had been devastated between first and second year.

The size of the class was maybe a third of the size of his first-year class. Alex thought the lizard-folk wizard had been joking when he’d said—during their very first class—that only one out of every three students would be there by the end.

It went something like ‘those that want to be here will be here.’ Well, that was one way to look at it, Alex supposed.

Sliding into the room, he came up to Isolde as she pointed to the seat in front of her.

“Alex, have a seat here,” she said. “I would invite you to sit beside me, but I am saving those seats for two of my friends, unfortunately.”

“Ah, no problem. I like to be closer to the front anyway.” He pointed to his eyes. “If I sit too far back, I’ll have to squint so much, I’ll need spectacles as thick as Hobb’s monocle by graduation time in a few years.”

Isolde raised an eyebrow as he took his seat. “A few years, you say? Are you not going to apply to continue at the graduate level?”

“Honestly, I haven’t really thought about it,” Alex said, sitting so he straddled the chair and was facing backward. He folded his arms in front of him across the chair back.

“Truly? I would think that would be first on your priority.” She leaned forward on her desk. Because the small auditorium was built on multiple levels, she was looking down at him. “Have you truly not thought about it at all or is this one of your jokes? With your performance, I thought you were purposefully striving for such a position as I am.”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen some of the grad students working for Jules and one working for Val’Rok, and it looks fun, I gotta say.”

She scoffed. “‘Looks fun,’ he says. My goodness, Alex, it’s not a position one enters for ‘fun.’ Graduate studies are fundamentally different from the undergraduate years.”

“How so? Do you learn all the spell-tiers up to ninth? That’d be some serious power.” Alex had to consciously keep his mind from wandering into all the possibilities.

“No, it’s not about that. Think of it this way. For the first four years of our education, we are sponges: we absorb the knowledge taught to us like water flowing from a tap. At the graduate level, we become the tap and create the water. Our experiments craft the knowledge that aids others. We contribute to the creation of new spells, alchemical formulae and techniques. That skill will add to one’s wizardry as we go on, and also can help guarantee appointment to courts and faculty around the world.”

“Huh, well, I’ll think about it…” He looked around. “If I get there. Did you have a big class for mana manipulation in first year?”

“About three times this size. Why do you ask?”

He whistled. “Well, if the second-year class is already whittled down this much, maybe I shouldn’t be betting too hard on guaranteed graduate studies.”

“Oh, bah!” She waved a hand dismissively. “I think you needn’t worry about that. If you are skilled enough to enter this difficult class in your first year, then surely you are already on a path that should take you into graduate studies with no issues.”

“Maybe. Not sure if my force marks are going to help too much.”

In truth, Alex’s final Mark for FORC-1550 was fairly high—not as high as Alex’s regular standards and probably not high for someone like Isolde—but he’d done very well, all things considered. Unfortunately, ‘fairly high’ likely wouldn’t cut it.

“Graduate studies are hyper-competitive, aren’t they?” Alex asked. “With how important they are and all that. You’d have to be the best of the best of the best to get in.”

“True, but high marks are only part of the process. Since you come from so far a distance, you are likely unaware of this, but connections can matter for an admissions process. There are a number of students enrolled within Generasi who would not have been able to gain entry based on the merit of pure academics.”

Alex thought of Derek, wondering if that was how the nobleman got in. Though, to be fair, he didn’t know how Derek performed in his classes aside from potions… and that test in the Barrens for Baelin’s class just before first semester began.

“Some enter Generasi based on connection to one of the faculty members. Some enter based mostly on the fact that members of their family are alumni, or they were within the entourage of a former student. There is also gaining entry by way of donation.”

“Donation?” Alex raised an eyebrow, looking over the fine classroom with its magically maintained cleanliness and lecture hall furnishings. “Why would Generasi be hurting for gold?”

“Wizardry, as we know, is expensive. With the experiments run here, more material is always needed. And besides, often these donations are made not by way of coin, but by way of magical items, special materials, or even services performed,” Isolde said. “Even my grandfather has undertaken exploration for the university as a trade of favours.” She sighed. “It was his safety strategy for if I turned out to be… less academically dedicated.”

“Oh. Well, I guess he didn’t need to worry about that,” Alex said.

“No, such a worry was—” She shook her head. “We get off-topic. The point I was trying to make is that connections are even more valuable at the graduate level. A professor chooses graduates based on their academics, to be sure, but a graduate student is a colleague and an assistant to a professor’s work. Factors such as temperament, previous relationship and knowledge of their work habits are key in such choices, as my grandfather informed me.”

“Wait. So all that assisting I’ve been doing with Professor Jules—”

“Is invaluable,” Isolde said, finishing his sentence. “I myself will be assisting one of Professor Ororo’s graduate students with their research into spells of storm calling, which will help me build connections with the department. Understand, Alex, the opportunity that you have, many students would cut off… well, at least they’d cut someone else’s finger off for it. You should consider it.”

He shrugged. “According to you, I’m already on the right path, aren’t I? I just have to keep doing what I’m doing, and I can decide later.”

“How cheeky and lackadaisical,” she huffed. “I suppose it is your future, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, it is,” Alex said.

Honestly, he hadn’t thought much into the far future recently.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go on to graduate studies, or wanted to dismiss them or didn’t take them seriously. It was just there were so many other more immediate, pressing things on his mind. He still needed to work out that golem power source and continue with his analysis of the dungeon core’s remains, figure out what was going on with Thameland’s previous Fools, and also try to contribute to getting rid of the Ravener. He also needed to continue helping his little sister, get through Ram’s second semester, perfect his defences, explore the Cleansing Movements more…

…He had a lot to do. Graduate studies that were more than three years away seemed like such a distant thing. He hadn’t even decided what he wanted to do as a full-fledged wizard. He supposed it’d have to be something alchemy related unless he found a way to permanently get rid of the Mark at some point.

All in all, what came after graduation was far, far away, and other things were of a more immediate concern.

Val’Rok’s first class for the semester had a bit of a sinister tone at first. The cheery lizard man wizard made a comment about ‘losing more people who didn’t want to be in the course anymore,’ and the way he spoke about them was like they’d somehow met an unknown fate on the way to the school cafeteria.

His revelations on what the class was going to learn were anything but sinister, however. What sounded really exciting to Alex was a new, more advanced mana regeneration technique, and mana manipulation with more advanced magical items.

The class after Val’Rok’s was Professor Ram’s.

Alex was sure that—as he’d walked in—the professor gave him a slightly distant disappointed look, all the while nodding, smiling and even catching up with his favourites.

“This semester will be a little different from the last,” Ram said as the class was finally seated. “Last semester, I taught you what are often termed the basic force spells. Spells for attack, utility and defence: the beginning for any aspiring force mage. We also spoke of what force truly is. This semester, we’ll be going deeper into that. Any wizard can throw around force missiles, but the force specialist learns how to direct, redirect and amplify.”

He raised his force-constructed arm and concentrated. The class gasped as the arm transformed, growing and extending until it was a long, thin blade of black force. Several students gaped openly.

Alex couldn’t help but stare with envy.

That was one of the coolest damned things he’d ever seen, and was about a hundred and twenty percent certain the Mark would never, ever let him make a force-constructed weapon.

“We will start out with spells that make force-constructed weapons,” Ram said.

‘Oh, you piece of shit,’ Alex thought, having nasty flashbacks to his failure with force missile.

“But they will not be for striking your enemies,” Ram continued. “At your level, making solid mana-constructed weapons that can last through clash after clash with an enemy is not a good idea. You will start to get into that when we move to second-tier spells at the end of the semester. The spell we will be talking about is called Protective Force Weapon.”

With a twitch of his brow, Ram conjured several black swords to rotate around his body. Another twitch of an eyebrow created a black force missile that manifested in front of him and shot out over the class.

The force missile arced through the air, turned around, and shot back at Ram. The professor, posture erect, stood with one arm behind his back as one of the force swords spun in mid-air and parried the force missile away, sending it shooting up and out of the open window, where it dissipated.

Alex found himself leaning over his desk in rapt attention during the entire display.

“Force shield takes blows directly, while Protective Force Weapon deflects them. Note that—while the latter might seem superior—it requires far more mana, and force weapon constructs are broken far more easily than a Force Shield. Like so—”

With a single cut from his force arm construct, he shattered one of the weapons.

“The key to maximizing this and all other force spells is to direct, redirect and amplify in order to direct your force to the place where it can have the greatest effect. Take redirecting enemy force for example. Plate armour is sloped to deflect blows, but warriors are still taught to avoid the full brunt of weapon strikes by dodging and rolling with blows. That redirects force so a warrior isn’t just taking the full force of an enemy’s strike.”

He tapped his chest. “That training is given to knights even though a good set of castle forged plate armour can make one pretty much immune to most sword blows. One still needs to roll and defend. With amplify, the goal is to learn ways to create efficiency in your spell arrays, requiring less mana from you while empowering your spells with greater force. When we have refined what you have learned, then you will be ready to graduate to second level spells while sloughing off your bad habits.”

Alex twitched as he absorbed Ram’s words.

Redirection of force and energy? That sounded familiar.

The Cleansing Movements were built on that concept.

His eyes narrowed. What if he combined those defensive movements with the extra protection of his Force Armour? He could redirect a lot more when he was in less danger of losing an arm to an incoming blow in the process.

There was also the deflection of spells like Ram just demonstrated. He thought back to Force Shield. He was sure the Mark would become highly agitated at him for trying to conjure weapons made of force—whether to defend himself or not—but if he could get his Force Shield to pivot and parry on command, like the Protective Force Weapon spell, then his defences would become that much more efficient.

Experimenting with that level of control over Force Shield might even give him an edge when it came to learning future force spells. Perhaps there were things to love about Ram’s class after all. Alex approached the possibilities with cautious excitement.

His thoughts then turned to what he’d be doing after class.

Since last semester, he’d been meeting up with Thundar sometimes after force class to join his group in practicing the Cleansing Movements. Today when they met up, he could start combining his Force Shield with the movements and see how things went.

If it worked out, that would be a great way to up his protection.

The next time for Baelin to lead them into the Barrens was coming soon. And—according to what the chancellor had hinted at near the end of last semester—they were in for a big challenge.

Maybe he’d have some new force skills ready.

Chapter 37

Beneath the Barrens

Alex concentrated on moving his Force Shield in time with the slow, force-directing motions of the Cleansing Movements.

As he did, he kept some of his concentration on the movements and meditative practice, but split the rest of his mind to focus on his surroundings and where imaginary opponents might strike. The Force Shield was a powerful defence, in that it swivelled automatically toward incoming attacks, but it was limited in that it blocked those attacks head on.

If he could learn to angle it so that—instead of simply protecting him—it also moved in time with him, it could reinforce the motions he was practicing to block and redirect.

The tricky part would be modifying the spell array so the shield didn’t automatically interpose itself directly between him and opponents, but could also pivot in mid-air and slope itself according to his will.

That could come later. For now, he simply focused on bringing the shield in line with his movements. The rest of the group had given him curious looks at first, but they quickly returned their focus to their own practice.

One of the philosophies of the group was non-judgement while in session, and so, Alex could continue to try different things as long as he didn’t disturb the others. That was the reason he picked a spot at the back, to not be a distraction to the others. He could almost feel Thundar vibrating as the minotaur fought the urge to say something, though.

As the class ended, Thundar lost the battle.

“What in hell are you doing, Alex?” the minotaur asked. “I thought you were gonna clobber me with your spell.”

“Just trying to get better at the motions,” Alex said, dismissing his Force Shield and conjuring a forceball to carry his bags. “Ram said something about redirecting force magic, so I’m just combining the Cleansing Movements with spellcasting. I’m hoping that it’ll help.”

“Well, it’s helping me nearly get a concussion,” Thundar said, pausing as the group leader left the clearing in a hurry. His eyes followed her tails before returning to Alex, who was now grinning.

“Not a word,” the minotaur warned in a tone that made it very clear what would happen to Alex if he even snickered.

For once, Alex kept his mouth shut. “You think Khalik’s out of class by now? I could use some food.”

“Probably. Let’s go find him,” Thundar said. “It might be one of our last meals.”

They went through the botanical gardens together, passing a patrol of Watchers. The demon summoning culprit was still at large, and if there were any signs of coming closer to catching them, the administration wasn’t saying a word.

In some ways, campus had calmed. The first day back from break had been fairly tense, as many anticipated another attack coming at any time. As the days went on, though, the wizards on Generasi’s campus slowly grew more comfortable as the incident became more distant.

After all, it wasn’t the first time a renegade demon had attacked the campus.

It likely wouldn’t be the last. Even after the conjuring culprit was caught.

“You that worried about Baelin’s class?” Alex asked his friend.

“A little,” Thundar said. “That last trip into the Barrens was real… easy. Makes me nervous now, like if the other hoof is about to drop on us.”

“Baelin’s there to keep us safe, and we have his protective spells,” Alex said, though he was starting to feel nervous about the next class too. Baelin promised a challenge, and Alex’s powerful imagination was already conjuring up all kinds of horrors they might face.

“Yeah, I know,” Thundar said. “Just can’t help feeling things are gonna be tough. I just hope we get to group up with who we want. Would love it if we had the cabal together, complete with entourage members. And if we could get Grimloch in there, that’d be great.”

“Ideal scenario,” Alex agreed. “Unfortunately, ideal scenarios don’t often happen in li—”

Crnch.

Both he and the minotaur paused. Something had moved in the nearby brush, and the young wizards glanced at each other before swinging around so they were back to back. They eyed the thick, wild-looking area of the garden.

Plenty of cover around.

Alex remembered their encounter with the dryads and what they said about the mana vampire and that other creature that killed two of them. He bit the inside of his cheek, just in case a sudden wave of drowsiness came over him.

“You smell anything?” Alex whispered, glancing over his shoulder.

“Lot of things: flowers, herbs, funguses. It feels like I’m in a perfume shop. Can’t smell anything else.”

The two wizards waited for about thirty heartbeats before finally beginning to relax.

“Ugh, we’re getting jumpier than an old cat in an alley full of dogs,” Thundar grunted.

“Hey, remember that first time we did the Cleansing Movements together?” Alex asked. “Didn’t we hear a strange sound around this part of the path then too?”

Thundar squinted. “You know, I think you’re right. We did, didn’t we?” He eyed the bushes with suspicion. “Probably just an animal. Some little beast or something. Maybe something’s made its den around here.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Alex said. “Let’s just get the hell out of here. I feel like one of those guys that always dies first in the bards’ horror stories—” He mimed putting on a dumb expression. “Duuuh, what was that noise? We should go investigate.”

Thundar snorted in laughter. “Yeah, but the guys in those stories are usually rich nobles at their summer cottages with a belly full of wine and their heads full of lust. We’re wizards trained in combat. We’d probably last longer.”

“Unless it’s a mana vampire,” Alex pointed out.

“Yeah, then maybe the drunk noble’d have a better time than us,” Thundar said. “You know what? You’re right, this place is creeping me out. Let’s keep moving.”

Alex followed the minotaur’s long strides as his hooves clacked across the cobblestones. They didn’t speak until they were out of the botanical gardens.

They might’ve been imagining it, but it felt like they’d avoided the heart of danger.

“Sometimes, one cannot avoid the heart of danger,” Baelin said from in front of the class.

Thundar and Alex gave each other long looks at his statement.

“By that, I mean not only is it impossible at certain times to flee from danger, but I also mean that sometimes terrain prevents us from making full use of our mobility, our allies, and even resources such as larger, more powerful companions.”

His eyes fell to Grimloch, who paused mid-bite. The shark man had arrived with Nua-Oge, finishing his lunch that looked to be an entire roasted deer haunch.

“When one enters the dark places of the world, this will involve entering tunnels, caves and other spaces where one’s ability to move is constrained. It cuts down on options of attack and escape.

“I am told we have a member of the Delvers’ Guild in attendance,” Baelin said, glancing about. “Might they identify themselves.”

Alex was surprised when one of Isolde’s entourage raised his meaty hand.

“Hogarth of Stokham,” he said. “I was a member of the Delvers’ Guild before I joined the service of the Von Anmut family.”

“I see, then we are privileged to have a veteran within our ranks.” Baelin gestured to the squat, powerfully built man. “Would you be kind enough to do the class a favour and enlighten us as to what the Delvers’ Guild does?”

“Professional Danger Spelunkers is what we call ourselves,” Hogarth said. “There’s a lot of dark places beneath the earth: old ruins, abandoned monster dens, pathways into the deep, leftovers from lost wizards and civilizations. People want these explored, cleared out and made safe. At the same time, other people want to raid these places for lost treasure, information, monster parts and a lot of other things.”

Alex listened closely, glancing at Theresa, who caught his eye.

He’d remembered the tattered remains of the human hand Brutus found in the cave mouth of the Traveller. The index finger had been wrapped by a plain iron ring with a symbol of two crossed pick-axes.

He’d heard of the Delvers’ Guild but hadn’t known much about them before.

“We also delve into wastelands, borderlands and dangerous wildernesses,” Hogarth continued. “We work with the Cartographers’ Guilds as well for protection and joint mapmaking. Sometimes, we help as escorts for wizards looking for ingredients and so on. Sometimes, we also just explore for the sake of it.”

“Right, and do you often work with wizards?” Baelin asked, though from his tone, it was clear he knew the answer.

“We recruit wizards into the guild, but I’ve never heard of one from the guild who was educated at a big place like this. Most of our wizard guild members are self-taught and the like,” Hogarth said. “But like I said, we do get hired to escort wizards into places like ruins and caverns.”

“Exactly. That’s the answer I was looking for.” Baelin turned to the rest of the class. “Often—even if you are in a peaceful time in your wizardry career—you may need to seek out an ingredient, explore a ruin for a piece of forgotten lore, or simply be hired by some city official looking for someone knowledgeable and capable to delve into a local cavern for purposes of their own.

“And the deep places of the world can be unforgiving. Rayne, one of your favourite spells is the spell of flight, I do believe.”

“Uh, yes,” Rayne said nervously. “But it’s not much help in a cave, right?”

“No, it is not,” Baelin said. “Being able to float above a floor that might be trapped or manoeuvre within a three-dimensional space can help to a certain degree, but one’s options are definitely limited underground. Spells that use great amounts of fire are also dangerous, as they can burn away the air in an enclosed space, potentially suffocating you.”

Alex winced, remembering the Goddess Statues in the temple of the Traveller. They would have been much deadlier if that portal hadn’t been open in the room, providing the space with more air from wherever that blue sky was.

Maybe that was why that stable portal had been left there in the first place: to continue to pump air into the complex, even if the fire-gems burned away all the air blasting intruders. It wouldn’t do, he thought, for the fire-gems to destroy intruders just to leave the cave empty of air for when its owner returned.

He noticed Rhea and Shiani look at each other; they often used fire spells.

“My point being, a delve into an underground complex is something you will likely engage in at least once in your lives—”

Alex fought to keep a straight face.

“—and tactical experience in such places will be invaluable. That is why our last lesson focused on the dwarven war manuals on tunnel fighting. In the Barrens, there are a few ancient complexes, labyrinths and ruins spread throughout the blasted landscapes—leftovers from fallen empires or ancient wizards, now left to gather dust.

“Today, we will be visiting a place colloquially known around Generasi as the Bone Tunnels. It was a massive underground sanctum owned by a wizard when the Barrens were still fertile. So the opponents you will expect to find within are undead: skeletons of creatures that die near the complex are reanimated by its residual protective magics and become guardians of the place. You can also expect haunts: ectoplasmic echoes of fallen spirits. Not quite ghosts, they are simply clots of memory left behind by those that fell while in danger.”

He raised his hand above him. “The average ceiling in this complex is merely eight feet high and can go as low as six feet in some parts. Thundar and Grimloch, you might have trouble in these areas.” The pair nodded in kind to each other.

“These are my instructions for this challenge. You will be split into four groups and sent through the labyrinth from four separate entrances. Your task will be to navigate your way to four different teleportation circles I have left within the labyrinth. I expect you to navigate your way through the complex, avoiding its mechanical traps, and either defeat or escape from any undead creatures you might encounter.”

Alex gulped and exchanged a look with Theresa, who nodded reassuringly and placed a hand on one of Brutus’ heads. Their previous time spelunking was terrifying and had introduced them to horrors they’d never known before.

Then again, they were a lot tougher now. Theresa had been engaging in life enforcement and learning from the Watchers of Roal.

Alex was stronger, faster, more knowledgeable, and had far more magical power. They could do this.

They could handle a few skeletons.

Hopefully, they’d end up together.

The whole cabal acting as one would be perfect.

“When you materialize at the entrances, look at the spell-marks left by my spell,” Baelin said. “I have modified them to react, gradually turning red the farther you go away from my teleportation circles, and turning green the closer you get to them. This will help you to avoid becoming too lost. And with that?”

He waved his hand.

“Happy delving.”

Alex felt the teleportation magic come over him.

The world shimmered as he appeared in the Barrens before his unknown group members.

He waited for a bit, looking around his surroundings before three figures materialized in the air before him.

First was the skinny figure of Rayne, blinking rapidly in the heat and dust of the Barrens. Next was the towering form of Thundar, who grinned when he saw Alex.

Alex looked at the last figure, hoping for Theresa, Khalik or Isolde.

The shimmering crystallized and the last figure appeared: a massive, three-headed dog, sniffing the air and looking around for his master.

Alex gaped in surprise at Brutus.

“H-huh” was all he could say.

Chapter 38

The Skeletal Ruins

Brutus whined, turning around in search of his master.

“I’m sorry, boy,” Alex said, approaching the big canine and gingerly reaching out to pat one of his heads. The head glanced at Alex, but didn’t move away as he touched it. Brutus kept whining, still looking for Theresa with the other two heads while allowing Alex to pet him; something he would not have tolerated at the start of their journey.

It was a good thing their relationship had improved, especially now that Theresa wasn’t with them. And as anxious as Brutus was about Theresa, she must be equally as worried and anxious about him, especially not knowing which group he’d ended up in. Alex kept his hand on Brutus’ head, thinking he’d do his best to make sure the two of them were back together soon.

“Atta boy, pup, we’ll get you back to your mommy soon,” Thundar grunted, then looked to Rayne. “Hello, Rayne.”

“E-er hello,” Rayne responded nervously, eyeing the massive minotaur and the strongly built young wizard. “Pleasure to work with you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Alex said, glancing down at his spell-mark.

It was bright red—indicating they were very far from the teleportation circle they were supposed to reach. Considering they weren’t even in the underground complex yet, that made sense.

“Alrighty,” Alex said. “No use wasting time.”

He turned, still petting the anxious, whining cerberus. “I’ve been in caves once or twice before, but I don’t have a lot of experience with them. Do either of you?”

“My cousins and I once had to clear out a nest of lurchers near our home, and they were in a cave,” Thundar said. “But that was a big tunnel—maybe twelve feet high—and it was just a straight shot from the mouth to their den. What about you, Rayne? Any experience?”

Rayne cleared his throat. “Ah, my father was hired by the Delvers’ Guild on a couple of occasions to clear caverns of monsters, but I’ve never been deep in a cave, just in small grottos to collect mushrooms. And, uh… my father never talked about those jobs.”

Silence hung over the group.

“Right, so none of us have that much experience,” the minotaur said. “Guess it’s tactics straight out of class then. What should our marching order be?”

Alex eyed them carefully. “Do you know a lot of attack spells, Rayne? Anything that isn’t fire so we don’t burn up our air and die in the dirt, all blue in the face and clutching our throats?”

Both of his companions stared at him before Thundar shook his head. “Just ignore him, Rayne; he’s always like this.”

“I know some attack spells,” Rayne said. “Mana bolts, force missiles and acid arrows.”

“Oof, acid arrow, now there’s a nasty spell,” Thundar grunted.

“Sounds like it,” Alex agreed. “And, Thundar, you know some ranged spells from your battle magic class, right?”

“Yep,” he said, drawing his mace. “Plus, I got old reliable here.” He looked over the skinny Rayne. “How comfortable are you with getting in a melee?”

“Er, I’ve never held anything deadlier than an axe I chopped wood with,” the young man said.

“Right, right,” Alex said, considering their options. “Okay, here’s what I think. Brutus can go in front, and I’ll be right behind him. He’s got the best senses of any of us. I trust your nose, Thundar, but he’s got three of them. Rayne can go behind me and blast stuff that’s coming at or behind us. Thundar, you take up the rear. Who can cast Lesser Force Armour and Force Shield?”

Both wizards raised their hands.

“Perfect,” Alex said. “I can cast both on myself and Brutus. That way, the whole party’ll be protected. Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me,” Thundar said. “Anyone know anything about the undead?”

“My father kept a journal about all kinds of monsters he fought when he used to travel for some of his commissions. He can’t really do that kind of work anymore, so he gave it to me before I left for school.” Rayne said, pulling a notebook from his bag. “I might be able to identify some of what we come across.”

“Hopefully, we won’t be coming across too much,” Thundar grunted. “What about light? I can see in the dark, but—”

“There’s my forceball,” Alex said. “I can use it to scout ahead too.”

“And I can cast a light spell onto an object,” Rayne added. “It will make it glow.”

“Right then,” Thundar grunted. “Let’s get this moving skeleton-feast started.”

Rayne gasped.

The minotaur looked at him. “It’s just an expression.”

“Really? And you talk about me?” Alex said. “Where do they say this expression?”

“Here. In the Barrens. A hot trend started by Thundar, son of Gulbiff.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Just ignore him, Rayne; he’s always like this.”

“Hey! Don’t use my own words against me!”

“Vengeance is mine, so says me,” Alex said before turning back to Brutus. “Alright, Brutus, let’s try to get back to Theresa fast.” He smiled, petting the big cerberus. “We’ll find her together, okay? Let me just cast some spells on you before we start.”

Rayne cocked his head. “Does he understand you?”

Thundar snorted. “That big dog knows a lot more than he lets on.”

Brutus looked at Thundar almost as if he were saying, ‘Yeah, you’re right.’

He gave a short bark, but did nothing else as Alex began to cast his magic. The cerberus watched in curiosity as a red glowing shield manifested in front of him. He tried nipping at it a couple of times before he grew used to it. He also nipped at the Lesser Force Armour that formed around him until it turned invisible. Alex then cast his protective spells over himself and manifested his forceball and Wizard’s Hand. Thundar and Rayne also cast their own protective shields.

The group exchanged silent nods and turned toward the entrance.

The entrance to the underground complex loomed out of the dusty plain ahead of them. It looked like a squat, square building made of sun-baked stone, the entrance a black doorway at least twelve feet tall. Flanking the passage were two statues carved of orange, dust-blasted rock.

The statues resembled humanoid skeletons, and each clutched upside-down stone scythes, the blades curved by their feet. The sculptures were so lifelike—or death-like, he supposed—Alex almost expected, just like the statues within the Cave of the Traveller, that they would come alive to attack them at any moment.

The little party approached the entrance cautiously, but neither statue moved when they crept through the gateway. Alex swore their dark, empty eye holes watched them, though.

They descended an ancient staircase into the dark. The light from the Barrens’ blazing sun slowly faded behind them, and soon the only light they had was the crimson glow of their force spells and a white light Rayne had cast onto an ordinary wand carved of willow wood that he kept in his bag for that purpose.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a massive entrance hall loomed ahead. It was almost like a church in its layout, with soaring ceilings and broken stone benches all facing a raised dais on the far end of the chamber. Rising above the raised platform—and built into the back wall—was another massive statue of a skeleton, maybe twice as tall as Grimloch. This statue was carved to look like it was wearing robes made of stone, with skeletal wings spreading behind it that filled the back wall.

“Well, that’s a grim god,” Thundar said.

“Or deity,” Rayne said. “Since it’s a skeleton, we can’t really say if it’s supposed to be a male, female, or something else.”

“Well, whatever it is, I don’t want to meet its worshippers.”

Alex’s mana senses began to tingle approaching the opposite end of the room. Another passage opened on their left, revealing another stairway going farther down into the deep.

A dark magic emanated from the tunnel.

It wasn’t as thick as the Traveller’s mana had been in her sanctum, but it still felt like a great power was coming from somewhere deep in the earth.

He told his companions what he felt.

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel something too,” Thundar said.

Rayne shrugged, while Brutus’ heads pointed toward the deep passage, and rumbled growls came from all three throats.

“Well, looks like there’s only one way down anyway,” Thundar grunted, thumbing the haft of his mace. “Might as well keep going.”

The ceiling of this passage rose only about eight feet above their heads, causing Thundar to bend his neck to keep the points of his horns from scraping the stone.

They soon found the tunnel led into a maze. At the bottom of the staircase lay a crossroads of several passages, all leading farther into the darkness. At the corners of the crossroads, there were carvings of more stone skeletons that appeared to be watching the wizards.

Alex was starting to see a pattern in the architecture. He wondered what Selina would have thought of it. Rayne swallowed, watching as Alex scouted down each passage using the red light of his forceball. The second-year student glanced at Thundar. “Hey, um, aren’t minotaurs good in mazes? You all don’t ever get lost, right?”

Thundar snorted, rolling his eyes. “That’s fairy tales. It came from that old bard’s story about the first minotaur being some monster created to guard a labyrinth. Which is completely made up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rayne quickly apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” Thundar said. “More focused on trying to find the right way to go right now. Any guesses, Alex?”

Alex swore under his breath. “Only thing I can tell is that there aren’t any dead ends within like thirty feet of us.” He glanced down at his hand. “I guess the only way to figure out which way to go is to pick a path and watch our spell-marks.”

“Couldn’t give us a map this time, could you, Chancellor?” Thundar grunted.

Rayne winced. “He likely can hear us through the spell-marks.”

“I know.”

It became clear that the marks would be invaluable to their success. They picked the wrong tunnel twice at that first crossroad, and had to double back, finally picking the right one by watching the changing colours of their spell-marks.

As they went deeper, Alex kept a close eye on Brutus. The cerberus would sniff the air, padding forward cautiously, and now and then, look back to check that the three wizards were still behind him. Each time, he paused and whined a little.

It was like he was reminded that Theresa wasn’t around every time he looked back.

“Don’t worry, boy,” Alex said. “We’re going to find her soon.”

It was shortly after comforting Brutus that the first attack came.

And without warning.

The group was walking along a tunnel lined with empty stone torch holders carved into the wall. The tunnel curved, reducing how far ahead and how far behind they could see.

Thundar didn’t hear them until it was too late, Brutus didn’t smell them, and before the light of Alex’s forceball had reached them, they came charging around the corner from up ahead.

Rayne cried in alarm, but months of COMB-1000 had hardened the young wizards; they sprang into action as soon as the horrors revealed themselves.

They were muupkaras—at least eight of them—or they had been muupkaras at one time. Their flesh had long rotted away, leaving only sun-bleached skeletons. The bone creatures rushed around the bend with eerie clacks of bone on stone as their skeletal feet skittered across the tunnel floor. They moved with horrifying speed; perhaps two or three times faster as living muupkaras.

The little creatures’ bottom jaws unhinged, extending and widening until they spread far enough to chomp off a body part. The fleshy, sucking part in their mouths had rotted away in death, and even though it looked like they could no longer suck flesh from the bones of their prey, Alex had no doubt their bites would be as deadly as their suckers had been.

“Blast ’em!” Thundar roared, and he and Rayne started firing glowing mana bolts into the mass of skeletons.

Crack! Crack!

Their bones were thick and hardened like petrified wood, but the young wizard’s spells were powerful enough to knock the attackers from their feet and crack bones when struck at the right angle.

“Animated Skeletons!” Rayne shouted, remembering his father’s notes. “They’re fast, but they’re only bones. They’re light and won’t weigh more than a fourteenth of what they weighed when they were alive!”

“Good to know!” Alex said, eyeing their assailants.

Muupkaras were already small. If these skeletons weighed so much less than they did in life, then that meant…

He shot Wizard’s Hand forward and started pulling the creatures off-balance. They fell like dried twigs. Alex could use this. He willed Wizard’s Hand to grab one at the front of the troop by its arm and raise into the air. The skeleton struggled in his magical grasp, but it was so light, his enhanced spell lifted it off the ground unhindered.

As the creature tried to grasp and claw at the spell, he dropped it. The struggling monstrosity fell into the path of the undead troop. Several collided into a heap, but two of the more agile creatures jumped over the pile, zeroed in on the young wizards.

Brutus met them with three sets of bone-crushing jaws.

They snapped shut over the monsters.

Crunch.

Bones snapped in his mouths as he grabbed animated skeletal limbs. As each bone shattered, a dark, ominous mana rose from where the marrow would have been deep within living bones. The skeletons’ movements grew weaker as the mana dissipated.

“Their animating force is in their bones!” Rayne shouted, taking cover behind Thundar to consult his notebook.

“Then we break ’em up!” Thundar shouted.

“And break them down!” Alex finished.

Skeletons threw themselves at Brutus, but their bony jaws bounced off either the Force Shield or invisible Lesser Force Armour.

Crunch! Crunch!

Brutus grabbed and savaged another, his jaws crushing its hardened bones while Alex’s Wizard’s Hand lifted skeletons from the back of the troop and dropped them into the cerberus’ waiting jaws.

The battle was going in their favour.

Until Thundar cried out.

“Oh shit! Look out!” He spun around. “They’re more coming from the back! The tunnel behind is full of ’em!”

Alex glanced backward. More skeletons rushed down the hall toward Thundar.

Rayne paled. “They flanked us! We’re trapped!”

Chapter 39

Names Left Behind

“Shit! Rayne, help Thundar!” Alex cried. “Blast them! Thundar, hold the line, I’ll help Brutus!”

“I’ve got this!” the minotaur roared, raising his mace.

Crunch!

The sound of metal crushing bone filled the tunnel as Thundar slammed his mace into one of the creatures. Alex cursed. Thundar was big enough to fill most of the narrow tunnel, and Alex couldn’t really see how many were behind them, not without pausing to try and crane his neck around the minotaur’s bulk. And the skeletons in front were not about to give him time for that.

As Rayne wheeled around and started blasting magical bolts, Alex turned back to the troop of undead in front.

He cursed again.

More skeletons surged from ahead to reinforce their fallen mates. He eyed the narrow tunnel. There was an opportunity there.

Gritting his teeth, he drove both his forceball and Wizard’s Hand among skeletons. He willed Wizard’s Hand to curl into a massive fist of force magic. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and with so many assailants filling the tunnel—even if the Mark interfered with his aim—it’d be impossible for him to miss them in such close quarters.

Growling as the Mark began to flood his mind with failures, he gritted his teeth and blindly swung the ball and fist hard into the skeletal horde.

Clatter! Clatter! Crunch!

He was rewarded with sounds of scattering and crunching bone as his force spells swept through them. His will guided both spells to stay well in front of Brutus, and he used every meditation technique he’d ever practiced to fight to keep his mind focused through the Mark’s screaming. And it was screaming loud and clear.

Alex dropped to his knees, mentally pushing against the Mark while driving his will into his spells. He squeezed his eyes shut. His mind was pounded with failure after failure, but his breath came slow and loud.

Soon, the clattering of bone eased from the front and he raised both spells into the air. He took deep breaths as his vision cleared of the Mark’s onslaught.

Between his desperate efforts and Brutus’ savagery, the frontal wave of undead attackers were decimated. Only two muupkara skeletons remained in motion. One was between the teeth of one of Brutus’ mouths. The other was latched onto the cerberus’ body, trying to bite into his flesh with its massive, unhinged jaws, but it failed against both the force armour and his tough hide.

Growling, Alex shot Wizard’s Hand over and dragged the creature off, holding it down while Brutus lunged on it and snapped its jaws with two sets of his jaws.

As the cerberus worked to finish it off, Alex whirled around to see what was going on behind them. His breath caught.

The skeletons were all over Thundar, swarming him like ants.

While Brutus, like the minotaur, had a lot of mass, the canine was on all fours and had three sets of jaws to fight with. Thundar—on the other hand—was tall, with very little room to manoeuvre, and had only his mace to smash their adversaries with. The number of broken bones scattered around his hooves showed he’d hit them hard. But now, he struggled to throw them off as they climbed up his legs and pounced on him.

He was bleeding, but the Force Armour and Force Shield were keeping the oncoming horde from completely overwhelming him.

Rayne curved his magic bolts around the minotaur, striking the onrushing skeletons and blasting them apart.

Alex joined him. He willed Wizard’s Hand to start pulling skeletons off of Thundar while he shot his forceball into the space between the minotaur’s legs. He hovered it between the skeletons and his friend, trying to block them as much as he could.

“Here you go!” he shouted, pulling the skeletons down to the minotaur’s feet.

Crunch.

Thundar’s hooves smashed down, crushing skeletons and sending the ominous mana from their shattered bones spraying through the air. As more were eliminated, the minotaur had more room to manoeuvre, and soon his mace was smashing one after the other. Alex and Rayne kept up their attacks, blocking, blasting, or shoving them aside, and Thundar was finally able to really lay into them. The air filled with the snapping of dry bones, crackle of magic bolts, rattle of skeletons tossed by Wizard’s Hand, and the crunching of muupkara bones between Brutus’ jaws.

By the time it was all done, the minotaur panted with effort, Rayne was gasping—trying to calm himself—and Alex leaned against a wall, trying to fight off a Mark-induced splitting headache.

At least the skeletons lay dead.

Well… dead again.

Double dead.

‘Destroyed,’ Alex finally settled on.

“That,” Thundar panted. “That was close. Damned close. I thought Baelin’s spell was going to activate at any second, or that one of them would bite my head off before the spell got the chance.”

Alex imagined something happening that killed them instantly before the spell could activate.

He shuddered, suddenly very thankful for all the practice he’d put in to adapt to combat situations, and for the fact that he was surrounded by good companions. He hoped Theresa, Khalik and Isolde were okay.

Then he thought about Grimloch.

Thundar was having trouble manoeuvring properly and he was half Grimloch’s bulk. How would the seemingly invincible shark man do against a swarm of the little monsters without room to position, dodge, strike or grab, and shove them into his mouth?

He had to put the thought out of his mind, for now.

Hopefully, one of them ended up with Eyvinder. The green elf-like being’s natural earth magic would be very useful in a place like this.

“You’re bleeding. How bad are you hurt?” Alex asked Thundar.

“Scratches mostly,” Thundar grunted, touching some of his matted fur. “The shield took a bunch of the attacks, and the force armour took a lot of the rest.”

He snorted in disgust. “If we’d come here at the beginning of school, there’s no way I’d have made it. Not without the spells I’ve learned and what I’ve learned from Baelin and all of you.”

“We’re safe for now, at least.” Rayne dug into his bag and offered Thundar a small earthenware bottle. It was stoppered with a cork. “Here. It’s not a healing potion, but a herbal tonic that will stop bleeding, dull pain and help wounds heal faster. The recipe’s my father’s.”

“Thank you kindly.” Thundar took the bottle and threw it back. “Ugh, tastes kinda foul, like rotten oranges!”

Rayne smiled weakly. “He never could do anything about the taste.”

“If it does what you said it will, then I can live with the taste.”

While they recovered, Alex examined Brutus and found that the cerberus didn’t have a single wound. Alex was thankful for that tough hide and force spells, but he still petted and rubbed the spot where the skeleton bit him. Using the Mark, he stroked his fur gently, again using memories of all the times he’d petted Brutus and other animals.

The cerberus whined and nuzzled into Alex’s hand.

“Goood boy. Best boy, even. Better than all the other boys,” he said. “Alright, let’s move on before more show up and corner us again.”

The group started down the tunnel, heading deeper into the complex.

As they went farther, they began to get an idea of what the area might have been used for before it became the lair of the undead. In between the tunnels and crossroads, were larger chambers with stone weapon-racks built into the walls.

“Guard posts, you think?” Thundar guessed as he eyed one of the racks. No weapons remained within. “Maybe the whole top part of this place is built like a maze to make things tough for invaders. Armies would have a hell of a time trying to move around in here.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Alex said.

He imagined an invading army coming through the entrance above, then having to split their forces among the maze of confusing tunnels. If they had superior numbers compared to the defenders, the tight quarters would make that meaningless and they’d end up being funnelled right into waiting guard posts. It was typical fortress and tunnel fighting tactics right out of the dwarven fighting manuals.

Dwarves were from the far north, though, as far as he knew. He wasn’t sure who or what this place had belonged to when it was still populated. Hopefully, Baelin would say.

“It’d be lonely work,” Rayne said as they peered into a side-room off one of the chambers that looked like it might have been a small barracks for housing troops or guards. Brutus sniffed at the stone beds and dried straw mattresses and began sneezing. Clouds of dust rose in the air. The place was almost as dry as aboveground, but thankfully, cooler.

“Imagine it,” Rayne continued. “Keeping watch and staying underground all day and night in the dark, waiting for something to invade.”

“Oh, nooooo thank you. None of that for me,” Alex said, imagining it. He glanced at the spell-mark on his hand. It was turning greener and greener. It looked like they were getting closer to the teleportation circle, and he couldn’t have been happier. The darkness, low ceilings, ominous silence and constant threat of skeletons had him on edge. “And whatever it was they were guarding, the only thing left down here now is bones and—”

He paused, head tilting to the side.

“Well, would you look at that.”

He brought his forceball toward one of the beds.

Carved into its side were different sets of graffiti, all in different hands and all running down the line of the stone. He couldn’t recognize the glyphs on the far left, nor the next few sets of letters written closer to the middle, but those on the right were carved in the common tongue.

Each was a name carved in a different hand, with ‘COMB-1000’ and the year written beneath each name, leading all the way up to last year.

“‘Well, would ya look at that’ is right!” Thundar said. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a tradition.”

Rayne swallowed. “You don’t think that carving our names there would anger whatever rules this place even more, do you?”

“Well, they’re already trying to kill us, so what else could they throw at us?” Alex said. “And besides, who’re we to go against tradition?” he said, pulling out a sharp knife.

Rayne outright refused, but Alex and Thundar carved their names, the year, and ‘COMB-1000’ into the side of the stone bed before departing the chamber. Brutus gave the barracks one final sniff and a long look before padding in front of them back into the guard post and the tunnel beyond.

Two hallways later, they were attacked by more skeletons.

“They’re after us for despoiling their tomb!” Rayne cried as they were swarmed from both front and back.

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” Thundar shouted. “They’re just attacking us like before!”

“They’re leaving me alone!” Rayne insisted as though he were submitting irrefutable evidence. “They’re just focusing on you!”

“That’s because you’re in the middle!” Alex shouted as he threw around skeletons with Wizard’s Hand to make things easier on Brutus. “They can’t reach you!”

He told himself it was only his imagination that the muupkaras seemed to be trying to crawl past Brutus to get to him.

Only his imagination, he assured himself.

“Everyone okay?” he asked as he checked over Brutus once the skeletons had been smashed.

“Yeah,” Thundar growled, picking bone-bits out of his fur. “Now that I was expecting they’d come from behind, it was easier. Hey, Rayne, thanks for the support.”

“It’s nothing,” Rayne said, squinting at the bones. He flipped through his book and closed it with a firm thmp. “Strange. Usually, animated skeletons are created by necromancers. Sometimes they rise on their own, but more often, they’re created as tools and aren’t naturally occurring.”

Alex scratched his head as he looked at the shattered muupkara skeletons. He imagined it would be similar to finding a golem in the wild. He supposed it would be possible to find a golem that had escaped its master, developed its own will or was fulfilling some long-ranging instruction, but it would still be a rare thing.

“Yeah, it is kind of strange,” he murmured.

“You don’t think Baelin made them, do you? Maybe he put them together just to challenge us,” Thundar suggested.

“I don’t know if that’s his sty—” Alex paused, thinking about how Baelin kept the skulls of his enemies sitting on a shelf in his office. Okay, so maybe it would be exactly his style. “It might be… it’d be kind of a relief, actually. If they were his, they’d probably stop attacking us if one of us got really hurt.”

He squinted down the passage, feeling the ominous mana that filled the place. The farther they went into this underground complex, the thicker the air became with it. He wasn’t exactly sensitive enough to tell individual wizards’ mana apart—yet—but he could say that, like the Traveller’s mana, this mana was very distinctive.

Baelin’s mana didn’t feel like this.

“All that mana in the air? It’s the same as the stuff that’s coming out of the bones when we break them. Why would the chancellor fill this place with creepy-ass mana if he was just making some skeletons for us to fight? Something’s off. Besides, I don’t think things he made himself would be ‘challenging’ enough for him. Look at all the other practical combat tests in our class: they’re all against real monsters looking to hurt us.”

“Y-yeah, that’s true,” Rayne said nervously. “What’s even stranger is why would so many muupkara skeletons be down here anyway? What reason would they have for coming down here to explore this dusty, empty tomb. There’s no food or anything.”

“Maybe there’s some kind of calling effect.” Thundar crouched, examining the bones even as Brutus chewed some apart, spitting them out when he found no marrow within them to eat. “We learned in first-year illusions that not all illusions are some kind of image or sound to trick you. Some illusions are smells, or a combination of senses, and some are kind of just a feeling… it’s an illusion that something is calling to you or telling you to go away. Maybe it’s something that lures monsters from the Barrens to keep turning them into skeletons.”

“It? What do you think ‘it’ is?” Rayne asked.

Thundar shrugged. “The complex or whatever controls it? Who knows.”

Alex glanced down to his spell-mark. “Well, let’s keep going and hope we don’t have to find out. Our spell-marks are getting pretty green. Maybe we’ll be out of here soon.”

“Yeah, without running into any of those ‘mechanical traps’ Baelin talked about back in class.” The minotaur stood up.

Alex gave him a long look. “I swear to Uldar, if you jinx us and we fall into some trap, I’m going to hate you.”

They continued down the path, tension pressing against each of them. Though their spell-marks were glowing greener, they proceeded cautiously. No more skeletons appeared.

Brutus was padding up ahead.

And then…

Click.

The cerberus stepped on a hidden pressure plate.

The ground opened beneath them.

The stones in the entire section of hall they were in suddenly tilted down, exposing a steep slide. Brutus yelped, his paws scrabbling on the stone as he disappeared down the slide.

Rayne spat out a quick incantation, which activated his spell of flight, saving him from the fall.

Alex screamed, barely managing to grab his nearby Wizard’s Hand and a bit of stone protruding from the left-hand wall.

His fingers strained and his legs dangled, leaving him hanging from the edge of the underground cliff.

“Brutus!” he cried after the disappeared cerberus.

Think. Adapt.

Think. Adapt.

Think. Adapt.

His mind raced, trying to think of a safe way to go after Brutu—

Scrrrrr.

The sound of hooves, screaming, and a heavy body sliding on stone came from above him. He looked up to see a panicked minotaur sliding down the stones, right toward his face.

“Thundar!” Alex shouted. “I bloody hate you—oooof!”

Thundar crashed into him, sending both young wizards tumbling over each other and careening downhill in a tangle of limbs.

Chapter 40

Traps

The world was a whirlwind of rocks, fur, pain and vertigo.

Alex and Thundar slid into the deep for what felt like hours, but must have only been a few heartbeats. The one thought on Alex’s mind was that he didn’t get impaled on Thundar’s horns as they tumbled.

Finally, the two screaming wizards burst out of the slide and free-fell through the air before slamming to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Thundar landed on Alex, blasting the breath from his lungs. Rocklike protrusions jabbed into his back.

He groaned weakly.

“Oh shit, Alex!” Thundar cried, grabbing at his head. “Are my horns broken? Are my horns broken!”

Alex haltingly shifted position until he could see the minotaur’s skull. “No,” he groaned.

“Thank my ancestors… oh, shit! Are you broken?”

Alex shifted his head until he was looking down at himself. “Yes,” he groaned weakly.

The minotaur clambered up to his hooves while Alex lay on the ground, willing his way past the pain that felt like a hundred thousand fractures throughout his body.

From his supine position, all he could see were three canine faces and three tongues licking at his face.

“Oh, hey, boy…” he groaned, trying to raise his arms to pet the enthusiastic cerberus. “Glad to see you too.”

As he slowly found his way back to his feet with Thundar’s help, Rayne came floating down the tunnel-slide, his panicked face paler and tight. “Thundar! Alex!”

“We’re alive,” Alex groaned as he willed his forceball and Wizard’s Hand down the slide. “No thanks to this big bastard here.”

Alex waited for Thundar’s retort, but found him dead-silent.

“Thundar?” he said, turning.

His friend was transfixed, staring at something that lay against the wall opposite the slide. Alex squinted at it, then cursed. Leaning against the wall were dozens of sharpened spikes projecting upward at least as tall as the minotaur’s height.

Each of them had a clean break near the bottom.

Alex looked down at the floor.

Stone stumps—remnants of the spikes—rose from the floor slightly. This room at one time must have been the final part of a deadly trap. The slide would open under unsuspecting travellers, sending them plunging into the room, where they’d drop onto the spikes and be impaled.

“Baelin,” Thundar said. “Maybe Baelin sheared away the spikes.”

“Geez,” Alex murmured. “If he hadn’t, we’d all be dead, except for Rayne, that is.”

He glanced at Brutus. He was sniffing and licking the tops of some of the spikes.

Alex took a better look at them. Many had tips coated in a dry, darkened substance—like old blood. He shuddered, looking around the rest of the trap room.

On one wall was a smooth structure about six feet wide. It looked like a doorway with a massive slab of stone recessed within a frame. On either side, as if standing guard, stood a scythe-wielding skeleton like they’d seen earlier. Their empty eye sockets seemed to glare at the four intruders. If it was a doorway, then the slab of rock would have been a way in or out of the room—unless it was another trap—but he couldn’t see a door handle or latch to open it with. Not on this side anyway.

He searched for any sign of a switch or a secret panel, like he’d done in the temple in the Cave of the Traveller, but he couldn’t find any.

Next, he looked up at the ceiling, which rose at least fifteen feet high.

“Oh shit, nobody move!” he cried.

Both Rayne and Thundar froze in place, but Brutus turned at the sound of the distress in his voice.

“Stay, boy! I know I’m not Theresa, but I’m begging you, please stay. Just for a second.”

Brutus stilled where he was, cocking all three heads.

“What… what’s wrong?” Rayne asked, floating a little above the ground.

“Look up,” Alex said. “Make sure not to shift your weight, Thundar.”

“Gotcha,” the minotaur said. “What’s wro—What in all hells are those?”

Carved into the huge stone panel above, were dozens of holes, each going so deeply into the ceiling panel, they disappeared within the darkness. Alex willed his forceball up to the holes and shone the light into them.

They reached deep. He could barely see where the holes ended. He looked for any clue as to their purpose. Gas, maybe? Would a hidden switch or trigger make gas or something else flood the room? Maybe the holes sprayed fire or sand would pour down and bury them. Would the room be flooded with some sort of acid? All kinds of horrible possibilities passed through his mind, but he couldn’t confirm a purpose for the ominous ceiling holes.

“Hey,” Thundar said, staying in place and glancing down at the floor. “Am I imagining it or are those holes in-line with where the spikes were on the floor?”

Alex looked down and back up at the ceiling. “I think you’re right.”

He looked around the room and considered the situation. “I’m thinking… the spikes impale anything that falls into the room, but if anyone survives, then something else triggers the ceiling, causing it to lower. I think the holes are so the spikes can fit into the ceiling once it comes all the way down to the floor. Then, splat, you’re a pancake!”

“Shit, that’s what I was thinking too,” Thundar grunted. “So… what’s the trigger?”

Alex squinted. “That’s what we’ve gotta figure out. Do either of you sense any strange magic in the air?”

Both wizards shook their heads.

“Neither do I.”

“I could float around and inspect things,” Rayne said. “I won’t touch any of the floors or walls.”

“Good idea,” Alex agreed.

He was glad Rayne seemed to have learned some lessons since that first class where he’d joined Minervus and abandoned his group. Or maybe Minervus was a bad influence and Rayne had been a follower. Alex had no idea.

He glanced up at the opening in the floor above them where the slide began. It would have been very easy for Rayne to just float back up and go on alone, leaving them to fend for themselves. He didn’t seem to be even considering that. He was pulling his weight now, and that was what mattered.

The skinny wizard floated around, his build in some ways reminding Alex of himself when he’d first arrived at Generasi. A lot had changed since then.

While Rayne examined the room, Alex began to scan the stone using the Mark—learning the characteristics of the surfaces by running his eyes back and forth.

“Wait, there’s something weird here,” Rayne said, floating down in front of the skeletal statue on the right side of the stone doorway. “The upper part of the stone is a slightly different colour than the lower parts, and a couple of areas on the lower part look different, like they’re discoloured or something.”

Alex scanned the area Rayne pointed to, using the Mark. Even at his distance, it soon pinpointed the differences in colour between where Rayne was pointing and the rest of the stonework.

“Huh, I think you might be right,” Alex said.

His eyes narrowed, looking back at the slide. The stones there were very smooth. Chances of him and Thundar being able to climb back up were slim, while Brutus would have no chance at all.

He looked back at the skeleton statue.

“Does either part look more worn to you?” Alex asked.

“Um,” Rayne squinted. “The lower one. Why?”

“I’m thinking that one part might be the one to press. Someone’s gotta clean this room of, uhm… stuff. So, maybe the area is worn because it’s used or touched a lot.”

“That’s a big maybe,” Thundar grunted.

“It is… but I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

“I could go back up the slide and check to see if there’s a passage that leads down?” Rayne said.

Thundar considered it. “Naw, forget it. You could get lost or jumped by skeletons up there by yourself. You might as well go ahead and push it.”

“Yeah, we’ll get ready to jump for the slide if the ceiling starts dropping,” Alex said. “And if worse comes to worst, I’ll grab Brutus and we activate Baelin’s spell-marks to get us out. Deal?”

“Deal,” Thundar and Rayne agreed.

“Alright, here I go,” Rayne said. He reached out and gingerly pushed one of the worn spots on the statue.

Schnk.

The stumps from the stone spikes slid into the floor, startling the already nervous group.

“Okay,” Rayne said. “That wasn’t it. If the spikes disappear into the floor, though, then—Yeah, you’re probably right. This place would need to be cleaned.”

He pressed the other spot.

Grrrrrrnd.

An ancient mechanism started grinding, shaking the room as stone dust drifted into the air around the massive stone door. The slab of rock filling the doorway slowly heaved up, sliding into the wall above, and revealing another room beyond the scythe-wielding guards.

“Voila!” Rayne grinned as Alex and Thundar exhaled in relief.

“Let’s get out of here,” Alex said. “We don’t want to push our luck.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Thundar said, approaching the doorway as Rayne floated through to relative safety.

Alex looked at Brutus. “C’mon, boy, we can go now.”

Clk.

One pace in front of the doorway, the minotaur’s hoof stepped on a pressure plate. Alex blinked in shock. It looked like Thundar’s foot was sinking into the floor, instead of the floor sliding down.

An illusion! The pressure plate had been hidden in an illusion!

Grrrrrrnd!

Grinding filled the room.

Brutus cringed low, barking in a panic.

The floor shook. The stone door began sliding down while the ceiling began its descent. And it lowered steadily—though it struggled as its ancient mechanisms ground against each other. They’d already be flattened if the mechanics had been maintained.

Thundar uttered a deep cry and ducked under the falling door slab. He braced his shoulder against it, spitting out his body enhancement incantation to halt it from falling as his muscles swelled with mana. “Go!” he grunted at Alex and Brutus even as the ceiling ground ever closer.

Alex rushed forward, stopping in the space beneath the slab and pushing against the stone like Thundar. His built-up muscles tightened with effort as he strained against the rock with all his might. It paused, just for a moment.

“Come, Brutus! Come!” His voice was forced.

The cerberus charged, slamming his massive body into both wizards, knocking them through the door and sprawling into the other room as the ceiling hit the floor. The stone of the doorway dropped, slamming shut.

Alex heaved a heavy sigh of relief from the floor. “Hooooly shit, was that ever close. Fast thinking, Thundar.”

“Thanks,” the minotaur panted, reaching a hand out to Alex and another to pat Brutus, who was shaking himself free of dirt. “Good thing you started working out.”

“Yeah.” Alex chuckled weakly. “Hell yeah.”

Rayne was simply staring at the doorway in stunned silence.

Then a high-pitched whine from three throats stopped their words.

Brutus started whining, growing more agitated by the moment. He sniffed the air excitedly, wagging his tail and jumping in place.

“Brutus?” Alex looked at the cerberus. “What’s going on? What do you—Wait! Brutus!”

The cerberus bounded from the room, running into a hall and around a corner at full speed.

“Wait! Brutus!” Alex cried, terrified at the thought of him running into another trap. He dug his heels into the stone and sprinted after the dog. Something was strange. Brutus was cautious and well-trained. Sure, he’d harassed Alex back when he didn’t like him, but he was always well-trained, well-behaved and not the type of dog to just take off on his own. Especially when danger was around.

“Alex, wait, what’s happening?” Thundar demanded from behind. The sound of hooves slamming along the tunnel floor pursued Alex down the passageway.

He could also hear Rayne shouting from the back.

He kept his ears open, listening for Brutus’ scrabbling paws ahead, following the sound through weaving halls and passages.

Then the heavy padding stopped and he squinted as he continued to chase after him.

Light.

Some sort of light was coming from the passage ahead.

It was dim, but it was steady and coloured like sunlight.

Alex burst out of the tunnel, into a massive chamber and stopped with a sharp intake of breath. The walls must have been twenty feet high and lined with row upon row of skeletal statues.

“Don’t come any closer!” a familiar voice shouted.

Brutus had stopped ahead, staring at the dishevelled figure on the other side of the room.

Alex’s eyes widened.

“Theresa?” he cried.

She’d obviously been in a fight, judging from how pale she was and the red staining her clothes. Clearly something with claws had come after her. She was leaning against an enormous set of double doors on the opposite side of the massive chamber, holding a reddened area on her right side and panting for breath.

“Stay back!” she ordered Brutus, who looked at her with his heads cocked while remaining perfectly still.

“Theresa?” Alex called as Rayne flew into the room followed by Thundar, who gave a strangled gasp.

“Alex, there’s something wrong,” she said with fear in her voice. “Something’s in here with us. It’s hunting us. It got Rhea and Shiani.”

Alex’s blood ran cold.

“I think, I think it let me run in here,” she said. “It’s making a trap. You should go! Get out of here!”

“Theresa, you know I’d never go without you.”

“Just listen to me!” she said quickly. “Go!”

He took a step forward. “Theresa, you—”

Alex looked at his best friend closely.

Very closely.

Chapter 41

Creeping Doom

Alex thought back to the illusion that hid the pressure plate in the spike room. He also remembered what Baelin said about haunts.

He glanced around. There were no other entrances to the room, so why would a wounded Theresa drag herself in here and stand beside some ominous giant doors.

“What are you?” he asked.

“Wait, what? Alex, that smells like Theresa,” Thundar said. Doubt crowded his features and he sniffed. “And no one else…” He lifted his mace.

‘Theresa’s’ expression shifted slightly. “I got separated early. I—”

“Would still have some of the others’ smell on you,” Thundar snarled as Rayne looked on in surprise. “Since you’re always with Brutus, you should at least have his scent. But the only thing you smell like is you, blood, and nothing.”

“That’s not true. Alex, you need to get out of here and—”

“Ask her something only you and she would know, something from deep in your past,” Rayne said to Alex.

“What?” Alex asked.

“It’s a haunt, I think,” Rayne said, clutching his book. “They mine information from surface thoughts to try and trick you, but they’re not able to reach deeper thoughts or memories that someone keeps to themself.”

Alex looked at Theresa cautiously. “Tell me what I set aside for you during the Festival of Ghosts.”

She paused, her eyes narrowing. “I—”

“If you even have to think about it, then you’re not Theresa,” he said. “It’s not a bad impression you’re doing, haunt. I dunno if you’re trying to make us leave or approach you. You might’ve been thinking you’d look too obvious if you just made us come over to you.”

Her expression began to change.

“You try to get us to leave, which would probably get you what you want. But if we didn’t listen and just ran up to you to help our injured friend, we wouldn’t be paying much attention to our surroundings.” Alex scanned the space between them. “There’s a trap in the floor somewhere up there, isn’t there?”

Her lips tightened.

“Right, we leave and we’re screwed. We approach you too quickly and we’re screwed. Now, why are you standing by the only door in the room? Guarding it for some reason?”

He glanced at his spell-mark. Its colour was greener than it had been in the trap room—and that room had a slide that led from the floor above. “I’m guessing whatever’s behind those doors leads up, doesn’t it? And you’re trying to keep us from going up there by sending us deeper into this place, or by getting us smashed by whatever trap’s in this room. That about right?”

“Clever little human-things,” she sighed, malice in her eyes. “What if I just wished to keep you here, hmmm? Maybe I’d also get what I wanted if you stood there like the clever little human thing you are?”

Clnk.

Movement in the hallway behind them had the young wizards whirling around. They gasped and backed away; even the cerberus retreated a few padded steps. Something was coming for them. What it was, Alex couldn’t say. It was humanoid in appearance, but crawled on all fours as if it couldn’t quite decide if it was humanoid, serpent, or beast. Its movements reminded him of the bonedrinker.

It wore thick, bronze armour polished to a shine that hugged its skeletal form. Its body was thinner than any humanoid’s Alex had ever seen.

It crawled into the room and rose to its full height—at least as tall as the twenty-foot skeletons behind them. The creature didn’t stand erect; instead, it hunched over like a vulture, with arms far too long for the rest of its body. Its chain-mailed hands clasped the air. Alex didn’t want to know what would happen if they caught him or one of his companions in a grip.

“Raaaayne?” Alex asked. “What in the absolute hell is that!”

“I have no idea!” Rayne said.

Alex glanced at the floor.

“There’s no way we’re outrunning it. If it’s anything like those muupkara skeletons, it’s going to be fast and we probably have traps in here to worry about.

“Intruders!” the thing-that-was-not Theresa laughed. “Despair! You face this stronghold’s most powerful guardian. Fling yourselves at its feet and grovel, and your lives might be spared!”

In time with her words, the creature reached out and grasped one of the stone scythes held by the nearest statue. The scythe released from the statue’s grip and shifted, morphing into metal. With the weapon’s length, one swing could sweep a quarter of the room.

“Oh my gods!” Rayne cried. “My spell-mark—It’s gone!”

He was looking down at his hand in shock.

Both Alex and Thundar looked for theirs—they were gone.

Where their spell-marks had been was only unmarked skin.

“I’ve dispelled your leader’s protections,” the Theresa-creature sneered. “And now, I’ve dispelled yours!”

With a wave of her hand, mana surged through the air, and Alex felt his magic circuits unravel. The Force Shields surrounding him and his companions disappeared, and Wizard’s Hand and forceball winked out.

Fear gripped him now.

“Yield, and perhaps I will see that you are spared.” The haunt rose into the air, shimmering until it was no longer Theresa, but the ghostly apparition of an ancient-looking man in some sort of priestly garment. A symbol of a skull hung from his neck.

Clnk.

The giant skeleton approached slowly, driving them back toward the floor trap.

Brutus started barking madly as he backed away. Thundar cast another body enhancement spell on himself, loosing a stream of curses, while Rayne let out a cry and flew across the room, keeping far from the skeleton.

He spat out an incantation and fired a long, white beam at the skeletal giant—it bounced off its bronze armour.

Think. Adapt.

Think. Adapt.

Think. Adapt.

Alex’s mind raced as he tried to find a way out of the trouble they were in. He considered his options, and found each one he came up with more useless than the last.

The way it stalked—drawing out their fear—reminded him of the hive-queen in the Cave of the Traveller. She also stalked them slowly when she knew they were at her mercy. She drew out their fear, fuelling the dungeon core from it.

They needed to escape. They needed to escape!

His thoughts were frantic and bent on two things: getting them out of there and the Cave of the Traveller. Suddenly, he was hit by a wave of vertigo. The giant chamber seemed to spin around and around—and for an instant—Alex relived glimpses of the strange sights he’d seen when they passed through the Traveller’s gateway.

What was happening? Why was he seeing deep memories the haunt shouldn’t be able to find? Maybe it was his fear-addled mind playing tricks on him.

He shook the thoughts away and focused.

Just like the hive-queen, the skeleton seemed to be taking its time with them so that—

His mind stilled.

So that what?

Why wasn’t it attacking? Its armour had deflected Rayne’s spell, yet… it hadn’t attacked them.

“Surrender now,” the old priest cried. “I will spare you, if you surrender!”

No, no, no, this wasn’t right.

It had them at its mercy. Their protective magics were gone and so was Baelin’s magic—or was it? Why would Baelin’s magic be gone? He’d seen the chancellor handle a powerful demon with no effort. Why would some random haunt in a random tomb Baelin had led them into be capable of dispelling his monstrously powerful magic? That didn’t make any sense.

And the chancellor might have been… well, the chancellor… but would he lead them into a threat that could destroy even his magic?

And why wasn’t it killing them?

Even now, the group continued backing away from the approaching skeleton, staying well out of reach of its scythe, nearing the centre of the room.

Alex’s eyes went wide.

“Thundar, stop!” he shouted. “Brutus, stay! Nobody move!”

“What, are you out of your mind?” Thundar demanded.

“No, I’m actually finally back in it!” Alex snarled at the skeleton giant. “It’s trying to drive us into the trap or get us to give in to it.”

The spectre behind them remained silent and Alex was a bit more certain he might have the truth of the situation.

“Think about it: why would it be taking its time to kill us if it could just do it?” Alex said. “It’s another illusion meant to drive us into the trap. The thing’s all bark and no bite!”

Alex took a deep breath, engaging in his meditation techniques, acknowledging his fears and letting them pass. He reached deep into himself, then focused his mind.

‘It’s like the Mark in some ways,’ he told himself. ‘It’s showing you things that aren’t really there. It’s trying to trick you. Acknowledge the images and let them go. See what’s behind them.’

After two meditative breaths, the familiar energetic sensation of his own magic circuits returned. They’d never been dispelled. Then the entire illusion fell apart.

Baelin’s spell-mark returned on his hand, and his Force Shield winked back into being. The spells around Thundar, Rayne and Brutus also rematerialized before his eyes. The skeletal giant was still there, but now it looked like the priest: somewhat hazy and indistinct. It became slightly transparent, and Alex could see where Rayne’s beam had punched into the stone wall behind it.

He yelled in triumph. “Our spells never went anywhere! Focus like during the Cleansing Movements, Thundar, and you’ll see them!”

The minotaur glanced at him, then took a deep breath. He suddenly shouted in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned! Rayne, it’s true! The whole thing’s as fake as the monster’s face on a mask at the Festival of Ghosts!”

Rayne blinked for a moment, shook his head and let out a huge sigh of relief. “I see it too.” He examined his hand with the spell-mark like it was a long-lost friend.

Alex turned to the priestly apparition. “It’s all illusion. Just trickery.”

The priest’s teeth ground in his mouth. “Filthy interlopers!” he cursed, raising his hands.

Skeletal warriors materialized around him—each with bony wings—and surged across the chamber.

“They’re not real!” Thundar shouted, now as sure as Alex, and boldly stuck out his chest.

The skeletons’ scythes passed through him, leaving no wound or mark while the haunt howled in frustration.

“Alright, let’s not push our luck,” Alex said. Moving his forceball forward, he began the same strategy he’d used in the trap room of the Cave of the Traveller—he sent the forceball ahead, slamming it into sections of the floor while the haunt shouted curses at them in a long-dead language.

Click.

As he pressed his forceball down on one spot, the floor in the centre of the room opened, revealing another ramp that slid farther into the dark. Rayne flew over to take a look in the hole, confirming it was also lined with spike stumps. Alex continued testing the floor from a safe position, finding more pressure plates section by section.

Another trap brought tiny darts shooting from the ceiling with enough force to prick their flesh. These hadn’t been removed or blunted, and he wondered if that was because—unlike the spiked pit—they wouldn’t have been fatal. That was… unless they were poisoned. Alex doubted they were poisonous, though, and he also had a pretty strong feeling it was Baelin who’d cut the spikes off.

The final trap saw two skeleton statues raise their scythes in both hands and swing the blades into the path of anyone who would have been on that side of the room.

“Oof,” Thundar grunted. “That one would have been a pretty nasty slice of life—so to speak.”

With each trap revealed, the haunt howled its malice, and Alex began taking regular glances at the tunnel at their backs. Those screams would likely bring more skeletons, and who knows if there actually was a giant, armoured skeleton around somewhere.

“Alright, Brutus, follow me, boy,” Alex said as Rayne floated ahead, and he and Thundar picked their way across the room—skirting the trap areas—and passed through the illusions of winged skeletons.

They passed the haunt, who continued to curse at them, especially when they reached their goal and looked up at the massive double doors.

“Well,” Thundar said, eyeing them. “Not sure how to get them open. Don’t really see a handle or a mechanis—wait a minute.” He reached toward the door, then made a face and glanced back at the haunt. “Oh, you lifeless bastard.”

His hand passed through the doors, revealing them to be just another illusion. The surrounding wall shimmered and disappeared, displaying a staircase.

“Alright, let’s get going before he actually thinks of a way to kill us,” the minotaur said.

“Yeah, agreed,” Alex said as Rayne floated down beside them.

Leaving the howling haunt sobbing in rage, they made their way up the stairs and out of the unnatural light of the haunted chamber. As they did, the spell-marks on their hands glowed greener. They were getting close.

The last part of the journey wasn’t long, and thankfully, no more skeletons attacked, and no more haunts materialized to trick them with illusions. Their movements were cautious in case of traps, but those too seemed to be absent in this part of the complex.

At last, they came to a crossroads of passages that had a glowing green circle filling the floor. Alex could now feel the teleportation magic emanating from close by, and he could almost make out the powerful magic circuit pulsing in the circle.

Exhaling in relief, the young wizards stepped into the circle, and Alex coaxed Brutus onto it. The magic circuit fired up once the cerberus entered, and soon, that familiar sensation of Baelin’s magic coated Alex.

As they were teleported out of the underground complex, the last sound Alex thought he heard was the haunt’s enraged howling fading in the distance.

Alex was the first of his group to appear, noticing another group made up of Eyvinder, Grimloch, Svenia and Rhea, were already on the escarpment where their after-class discussions were held.

As Alex’s companions materialized around him—with Brutus quickly looking for Theresa—he saw Baelin standing nearby, floating slightly above the stone.

A look of concentration was on his brow, and there was a stiffness in his demeanour. He seemed troubled. He turned slightly toward them.

“Hello, my young friends,” he said. “Tell me… before you rest, did you see anything… strange in the underground?”

There was a gravity in his voice that was rare for him.

“No,” Alex said. “Well, yeah, we saw skeletons… traps and a haunt.”

“Right; did you see anything appear or disappear?” Baelin asked.

Alex, Thundar and Rayne looked at each other, and shook their heads.

Baelin turned toward the horizon, staring in the direction of the underground complex. It was almost as if he was trying to see across the miles and peer directly into the tunnels beneath the earth.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked, looking at the other group.

“It is… strange,” Baelin glanced back at them. “For an instant, a mere instant, there was a flash of transportation magic. The beginnings of a teleportation or perhaps a summoning spell in the labyrinth.”

His eyes narrowed at the horizon.

“And it wasn’t my magic.”

Chapter 42

Gateways and Redesigns

“What do you mean?” Alex asked, a wave of fear for Theresa, Isolde, Khalik and the others overcoming him. “Do… do you think the demon summoner is down there?”

“I do not know. Again, the magic existed for a mere heartbeat or less. Then it was gone. If the demon summoner was in there, they either aborted their casting or they are extremely good at masking their magic.”

“W-we should go back!” Alex said, trying to fight down rising panic as he imagined demons stalking the passages.

“No, you should not. I have summoned the Watchers and teleported them into the maze. They are investigating the incident even as the rest of the class finishes their practical session.”

“The class is still going on?” Thundar asked.

“It is,” Baelin said. “You might think it foolish, but understand, I am old. Very old, and I only felt the magic for an instant. It could be that one of you students cast the teleportation spell, or it could be I simply imagined it. I have been searching for the culprit who summoned the demon for some time, after all. The mind can conjure all sorts of wants, tricks and desires if it really wishes.”

Alex remembered that brief moment when he desperately wanted to escape the haunt in the complex and how his thoughts went to the Cave of the Traveller. Shortly after his mother and father had died, his thoughts would revert to when he was younger. Sometimes he’d wake up at night and—for one confused moment—think he could hear his father in the kitchen or his mother humming at the bar.

The mind could conjure all kinds of phantoms when it was over-taxed. Still, fear gripped him, and he took to pacing back and forth along the escarpment.

“Do not worry,” Baelin said. “Even as the Watchers patrol the complex, I myself am examining it through divination magic. I have felt nothing unusual since that instant… but if I do, and if it is our culprit…”

He made a crushing gesture with one of his massive hands.

The weight of the silence increased, Alex’s soft shuffling the only sound as he continued pacing. Thundar walked over to Grimloch.

“Those tunnels were bullshit, weren’t they, eh, big guy?” Thundar clapped the shark man on the shoulder.

Alex had been the receiver of many of the minotaur’s robust back and shoulder claps, which were strong enough to send him stumbling if he wasn’t braced for them.

Grimloch didn’t even budge.

“Got lucky. We got him.” The shark man chewed out his words and jabbed a thumb toward Eyvinder. “Didn’t even bother with tunnels. This guy looked at the rock and it just opened up for him. We just walked straight to the teleportation circle.”

“You lucky bastard,” Thundar grunted. “I nearly got torn open by skeletons becau—”

Shimmering twisted in the air.

Brutus began barking excitedly.

Caramiyus, Nua-Oge, Angelar, Theresa and Hogarth appeared next. Theresa was in no way bloodied, though they all looked like they’d been in a fight.

“Oof!” Theresa cried as Brutus tackled her to the ground and began to bury her face in a torrent of licks.

“Ach, boy, you know you’re not supposed to jump on people!” She raised herself into a sitting position.

“You’re not suppo—oof!” Theresa cried as Alex tackled her to the ground. Luckily, he didn’t bury her face in a torrent of licks.

“Alex, I shouldn’t have to tell you not to jump on people!” She pushed herself up again while Alex crouched beside her.

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t have to listen. That’s the beauty of being not-a-dog.” He grinned. “I’m just really glad you’re alright.”

She frowned. “Yeah, we are… Was it that bad for you, with the skeletons, I mean?”

He helped her back to her feet. “Yes and no, but listen, some stuff is going on…”

While he filled her in on what Baelin was watching for, the rest of the class teleported back onto the escarpment. The chancellor turned his attention to them, explaining the situation.

“Did any of you use a teleportation spell in the complex? Even a minor one?”

Malcolm raised his hand. “I cast Call Through Ice, to teleport a key that was on an altar so we could disarm a spinning blades trap.”

“Call through what now?” Alex muttered, quietly thankful that his group didn’t run into any ‘spinning blades trap.’ It sounded horrible.

Isolde—who’d appeared with one of the final groups—leaned close to him. “It freezes two points in space and conjures a teleportation doorway through the para-elemental plane of cold. It is difficult to cast for anyone not specialized in ice magic, but it is one of the lowest tier teleportation spells that exists.”

“Thanks, Madam Librarian,” Alex said, grinning at her.

Isolde rolled her eyes.

Baelin was considering Malcolm’s explanation, stroking his braided beard. “Hmm, perhaps that was what I felt. I was unaware you or anyone in the class could use teleportation magic.”

“It’s something I learned over break,” Malcolm said, looking a little subdued. “Been trying to learn some more spells that are… less ‘all or nothing’ after the vent-drinker class.”

“Right.” Baelin nodded. “And the rest of you saw no other teleportation effects or felt anything of that nature?”

The rest of the class shook their heads.

“I see.” Baelin focused on the direction of the tunnels again.

The class talked among themselves until the Watchers of Roal arrived at the escarpment, then looked on as Baelin questioned them.

“We found nothing, Chancellor—” one started to say.

“Baelin,” the chancellor corrected.

“Ah, right,” the Watcher said awkwardly. “Well, we didn’t find anything. No traces of summoning, teleportation, no sign of anything down there except for the undead and your students.”

Baelin frowned. “Hm, perhaps I simply felt your magic after all, Malcolm. The… elusiveness of this demon caller has weighed on me.” He gazed off in the direction of the tomb. “Still. Curious. Very curious, indeed.”

Alex looked at Malcolm. A slight suspicion began to grow.

Malcolm—being a second-year—was one of the most powerful students in the Art of the Wizard in Combat II. He also specialized in cold magic, and had just revealed he could cast teleportation magic, which was similar to summoning.

Alex recalled the demon had appeared in fire, but there was also an element that it had been notably adept at using, judging from its attacks.

Ice.

He watched Shiani and Rhea talking to Malcolm. They were close. The demon appeared in fire and then used ice. Malcolm, Shiani and Rhea were ice and fire wizards.

Fire and Ice.

Alex tried to shake the thoughts away. He didn’t know much about Malcolm and Rhea, but he liked Shiani. His sister did too. She still asked about the fire wizard sometimes.

Besides, none of them seemed powerful enough to cast the kind of magic someone would need to bring forth a demon, never mind the kind of demon that could give the Watchers of Roal trouble.

They just couldn’t.

…Could they?

Perhaps they were keeping secrets, concealing their true power.

He ought to know about that.

As the class ended, Alex pushed the thoughts away as ridiculous. Only, a lingering doubt continued to follow him long after.

He couldn’t help but wonder if that doubt and discord was what the demon summoner had wanted to sow all along.

“Alex!” Selina cried.

“Huh, wha—?” Alex shook his head. “What was that?”

“You were staring again,” she said, a suspicious squint to her eyes. “You’re not going to change the design again, are you?”

“What, no, no, I wouldn’t!” he insisted.

In truth, he’d been thinking about his classmates in his combat class and how they might be keeping secrets of their own. He hadn’t been able to completely squash the thought since the escarpment.

Still, there actually was a very good reason why Selina might have thought he was thinking of changing the golem’s design.

He glanced over their work, which had progressed quite a bit since the break. Unable to deny it, the golem would’ve been further along if it weren’t for the fact he seemed to change the design of his creation every three days. While the general size and emphasis on power hadn’t changed, a lot of the aesthetic design and other elements had been altered.

“The first golems almost always looked like mortals,” Lagor had said while they were working one evening. He’d been carefully forging the delicate brass fingers for a specialty golem. “Giant, bulky humans, elves, beast folk: mirrors of whatever was creating them. Thing is, a golem’s physical form doesn’t really matter for how well it functions. Not on the outside, at least. You’ll want your mana structures proper, but the humanoid form isn’t anything special.”

While the specialty golem was forged in the shape of an androgynous humanoid, the brass construct had six long, thin arms, each with a hand of seven fingers. Unlike most golems, the mouth of this one led to an airway that connected to two mechanical chambers that mimicked lungs.

Apparently, a prominent duke wanted it to play several musical instruments at once: essentially making it into a one-golem orchestra. That said, it would be powerful enough to bend steel with its bare hands, and also serve as defence.

“That’s the thing with golems,” the orc crafter continued. “You can make them look like dragons or krakens or anything. What’s essential to make sure of is that your golem core is sophisticated enough to coordinate all those limbs and produces enough mana to power them.”

That revelation set Alex’s mind afire. He’d thought about the silence-spiders with their multiple limbs, and how his Force Shield was able to block more attacks, which allowed his arms to remain free.

And thanks to helping build that golem, he’d learned how to design a golem core sophisticated enough to run at least eight limbs. However, he’d still need enough room on his creation’s torso for so many limbs, which would call for an even bigger golem body than was practical for him to build.

He’d decided to go with two extra arms, giving it four thick, sturdy, powerful arms containing nice, big mana pathways throughout.

At first, Selina had been thrilled with the change.

“Four arms is super cool!” she’d cried.

Her displeasure started with the next change.

He’d hit upon the idea of applying some of the aspects of force redirection he was learning in Professor Ram’s class. Making his golem look like a giant muscular man—while unbelievably cool—would actually have made the golem less efficient at blocking enemies’ blows. Bare areas with pronounced pectorals, abdominals and the contours of musculature could be a weakness for blades or claws to go for.

Instead, he’d decided to use a design he knew worked when it came to protection against enemy strikes: armour. He’d joined Isolde and Theresa on one of their trips to a weaponsmith to look at the armour they carried. Using the Mark to examine the plate armour, he’d then returned to their work room and practiced making small sculptures and trying various armour-sculpting designs for hours.

He’d finally settled on a rounded, sloped shape for the golem’s surface that perfectly mimicked the plate armour.

When he’d shown Selina the design change, the colour had actually drained from her ten-year-old face.

“It’s super ugly now!” she’d bluntly informed him.

“Well, it’s practical,” he’d said. “And that’s what matters the most.”

And so, they’d re-sculpted the surface of the golem to his specifications… only for him to realize she’d been right. There was no denying it. It was super ugly and it honestly looked kind of stupid. Alex was practical, but—in the end—he wanted his golem to appear at least somewhat cool.

Back to his design, he continued with the armoured inspiration, but altered it to get the best of both worlds: a design that perfectly matched a hulking, armour-clad warrior. The plan still retained the sloped, rounded angles of plate armour—to deflect blows and force away from its centre mass—but now there were added details that actually made it look like finely crafted full plate, with images of filigree and designs of warriors and monsters throughout.

None of the designs were raised enough to catch blows or hook claws, while also giving it a striking appearance. If the clay golem evolved to stone, and then to an iron one, the ‘armoured’ design would look even more badass in those materials.

Selina had been far more enthusiastic, but still expressed dread that he’d make another big change and again throw all their work away to just end up making it ‘look stupid.’

Despite reassuring her, he couldn’t really be completely sure he wouldn’t discover something else that would lead to another abrupt improvement to the golem plan.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, somewhat to himself. “I think we’re going to stick with this design this time.”

Suspicion filled her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he promised, though still not quite sure.

“I hope so.” She looked at the head they were working on presently, which appeared to be the head of a giant wearing a steel helmet. The giant had a ferocious expression and sharp teeth, similar to the faces of the goddesses in the Cave of the Traveller.

“Why are we making an extra hole in his forehead?” she asked, looking at the deep impressions they were sculpting into the centre of the helmet. “Are there going to be three eyes? Why three?”

“You’ll see,” was all he said.

He hadn’t told her yet what the extra eye hole was for, nor the reason for the holes he’d planned for them to sculpt into two of the golem’s palms.

Those holes would be the new homes for the fire-gems.

He just needed to make sure he’d have the power necessary for them. He was still working that out, but he was sure he’d eventually learn something beneficial, whether that was through his job or his analysis of the dungeon core.

Alex paced back and forth in front of Cell-301, mentally counting off the lab time that was slipping away. The Watcher of Roal standing in the hall nearby gave him a sympathetic look. He glanced at his bag—suspended from his forceball—which contained both his solid and liquified sample of the dungeon core’s remains.

This was his second independent lab time and the second time Amir was late.

Alex was starting to see an unfortunate pattern.

Chapter 43

Unreliable Lateness

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry!” the grad student called as he rushed down the hall, already fumbling with his keys. “The tutorial went too long again, and there were just so many questions to answer and… my apologies!”

Alex sighed, using his meditative techniques to keep himself calm as Amir opened the Cell and let them both in. Another surge of irritation hit him when he read the glowing timekeeper on the wall.

They were even later than the last time. To make matters worse, Alex was supposed to brew a potion he was not only very excited about, but was more complex than the Potion of Haste.

A Potion of Flight.

The process was going to take longer, possibly cutting down his dungeon core analysis time even more.

“Well, I suppose we should get the extra equipment you’ll need for this one,” Amir said.

Alex only gave a short response, already trying to plan out how to get what he wanted done in the remaining time.

Once they’d carried the delicate equipment back to the lab, the only thing Alex was brewing was a rising rage. They’d gotten all the way to the supply station only to learn the last manometer hadn’t been returned yet.

They had to wait there—making awkward small talk while Alex fought off frustration—until at last a harried upper year student brought the crucial piece of equipment back.

It was like Uldar himself was conspiring against him and his plans.

He shook the thought away.

Anger had its place, but the only thing it would do right now is slow him down further and ensure he made mistakes. He quickly got to work—conjuring two Wizard’s Hands—as soon as the equipment was set up and Amir had sat down.

The key to a Potion of Flight was that it changed the sort of magical ‘buoyancy’ someone had, allowing the ambient mana in the air, the mana within the potion, and the mana within the person to combine and lift them off the ground. The mana within the potion would then provide propulsion when anyone who consumed it wanted to take flight, and—as the potion’s effects began to fade—the mana buoyancy would remain long enough to bring them floating back to the earth as though they were as light as a feather. It was a built-in safeguard just in case the flyer overestimated their flight time.

In order to control the flyer’s direction, a temporary mana organ would form in their spirit, allowing them to steer where they wanted to go like the wheel and rudder of a ship would.

The change in buoyancy was caused by one of the potion’s ingredients: dandelion seeds. One would need to take the seeds from dandelions—which shed their petals to allow their seeds to fly through the air—liquify them using a mana solvent, and then gradually change the viscosity of the result until it was slightly thinner than water. Only then would it combine with other ingredients and produce the magical buoyancy altering effect.

Another ingredient—puffball spores—would need to be examined through the piccoscope to make sure the brewing process had completely bound their tiny particles to the other ingredients. If it didn’t, the mana organ that governed flight control would degrade long before the rest of the potion left one’s system. Flight would end up maintained, but one would lose all control of direction, speed or elevation.

In particularly gruesome cases where the mana organ was defective or had failed, potion-drinkers suffered catastrophic injuries, or died when they’d lost control of their flight direction and parts of their bodies were pulled in more than one direction at once.

If someone was trying to fly straight but guided their arms in two directions at once…

Alex shuddered.

The dangerous nature of a badly formed mana organ also provided an interesting possibility for offensive use, though. If he could find a way—and he had several possible paths—to make the potion turn into a gas upon contact with air, say, when its container burst upon impact after being thrown, it could make for an interesting gaseous weapon.

Maybe by constructing a gas state Potion of Flight where the puffball essence didn’t bind to the other ingredients properly, that could give whoever breathed it in mana buoyancy for a short period where they’d have no control over flight. The possibilities against an attacker were intriguing. He could see them getting caught by surprise and suddenly launching into the air, taking themselves out of a fight or levitating and crashing into a wall.

The nice part would be that giving an enemy the power of flight wouldn’t be doing them direct harm, which should get by the Mark’s complaints. The ingredients for a Potion of Flight were also cheap and plentiful. The reason the potion wasn’t so commonly used was because it was an extremely finicky one to construct, and spells of flight were far easier since they called for simply building the right spell array.

After a Potion of Flight was complete, one would need to test its mana conductivity to make sure it was at a certain level. Too little mana conductivity, and the potion wouldn’t generate enough power to allow one to move through the air, even if they were mana buoyant.

Too much mana conductivity, and it would burn through the energies too quickly. The potion-drinker could achieve incredible flight speeds for a few seconds—burn through the remaining mana that kept them buoyant—and promptly plummet to the ground.

If he could make it into a gas, he should be able to also weaponize the speed aspect of the potion. A flight of extreme speed combined with zero control would be highly useful in a number of ways. It could send a creature speeding into things or shooting hundreds of feet into the air, only to plunge those hundreds of feet heartbeats later.

But, before any of that could happen, he would need to actually prepare the Potion of Flight properly.

He quickly organized the ingredients and began by liquifying the dandelion seeds. The potion made a satisfying hiss over the heat source—giving off an aroma like dandelion tea—as he liquified it, using his mana conductor to stir it and guide the reaction.

Visually inspecting it—and from time to time raising the flask to roll the potion back and forth across its bottom—he determined it was close to the correct viscosity. The liquid shot back and forth across the glass even faster than distilled water would. Good. Time for a viscosity test, and he wouldn’t only be testing his potion.

He removed the flask from the heat source and cut the flame.

Slipping the small bottle of liquified dungeon core remains into his palm, he took a quick glance back at his supervisor. Amir… did not look good.

As he had done during Alex’s previous lab, he was bent over some paperwork—whether he was marking or doing something else, Alex couldn’t tell—but he seemed distracted. He glanced at the timekeeper almost as much as Alex did. Perhaps even more.

While he divided his attention between Alex and his work, he also fidgeted in his chair and stared off as if in a deep contemplation.

Eventually, he noticed Alex looking at him. “Hm? Something I can help you with?”

“No, no,” Alex said. “Just noticed it was quiet back there. Wondered if you’d left.”

Amir gave a quick smile. “Oh, I wouldn’t just abandon you like that.” He glanced at the door. “How is the potion going?”

“Um, just fine,” Alex said. “Just about to test its viscosity. I’m between steps right now.”

“Really?” Amir half-rose from his seat, rushing over to the experiment. He nodded. “Good progress.” He glanced at the timekeeper. “Listen… would you mind holding off on testing the viscosity for a moment?”

Amir gave an embarrassed look. “Had to get here in a hurry and I just need to use the lav. I know you’ve had enough time taken from you, but I promise I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

“Oh, couldn’t I just test the viscosity while you’re gone?” Alex asked.

“Have you ever used a viscometric device before?”

“No,” Alex admitted.

“Then, no, I should be around for any parts of the experiment where you’re using new equipment and a reaction might go awry or where equipment might fail. I’ll be back shortly. If you need to run anything through the mana spectrometer, though, you can do that. Same if you need to test anything with Kamookak’s Moss—those are hard to blow yourself up with, and I’ve seen you use those before. They should be alright.” He winced. “Again, sorry to take even more of your time.”

Alex’s eyes flicked toward the timekeeper. “It’s alright. Take all the time you need; when you gotta go, you gotta go.”

An odd look passed over Amir’s face.

He looked away for a moment as something like a flash of guilt passed through his eyes.

“Right, I’ll be right back,” he said, moving to the door.

Alex watched him go as he prepared both the mana spectrometer and Kamookak’s Moss, looking like he was busying himself.

Click.

The door shut behind him.

A rush of nerves and excitement shot through him all at once as he looked at the timekeeper while his Wizard’s Hands prepped the mana spectrometer and the manohmeter.

This was a golden opportunity. He might be able to complete two steps of the dungeon core analysis in the time Amir was gone if he moved quickly and precisely. Not wasting time constantly looking over his shoulder to see if his supervisor was seeing him analysing the core remains would definitely speed things up.

He dropped the liquified dungeon core substance into the mana spectrometer and set it to run for the time needed to analyse a fourth-tier potion or equivalent substance, which was fifty-two seconds. Hopefully, that would be enough.

He turned on the device and let it run, then prepared a sample of his incomplete flight potion.

He turned to the manohmeter. It would test a substance’s level of mana conductivity by running several currents of mana through it to precisely measure both the speed mana travelled through a substance, as well as how much mana was lost during the transfer of the mana running through the substance.

Although Amir didn’t specifically give him permission to use that particular device, Alex had used a manohmeter a handful of times during first semester. While he didn’t trust himself to run a test with the viscometric device—since he’d only read about them—while Amir was away, he felt comfortable enough to run the manohmeter.

Besides, if Amir came back and caught him using the device and questioned him about it, it’d be easier to smooth things over since he’d had previous experience with it.

The manohmeter automatically suspended the substance. For this test, he decided to use the dungeon core’s substance in its solid form. For many magical substances, the liquefaction process actually lessened their mana conductivity, so performing the test on it in its natural state would give the most accurate reading.

Listening carefully for the sound of Amir’s footsteps coming from the hall—though that was a largely futile gesture as Cells were fairly, but not completely, soundproof—he dumped a bit of the powder into the collection cup of the manohmeter and set the two magic-diodes on either side of the cup to run the mana current through.

The manohmeter made a cheery, pleasant hum as he turned it on and let it do its thing. He turned back to the door.

No Amir yet.

The mana spectrometer finished his analysis and he took the readout.

He swore. More of the dungeon core’s make-up was present in those delineated bands of colour, but there was still a portion of the readout that was a scrambled mess. It needed more time.

Running it for the time needed for a fifth-tier potion would take a minute and twenty-two seconds. Not much time in general, but a large amount of time when one was trying to analyse a mysterious substance before their supervisor got back from the lav.

No sense in wasting time. He’d turn it on, then go wait by the door. If he heard Amir’s steps, he’d use Wizard’s Hand to abort the process and try again another time.

The manohmeter was still running anyway.

He set the mana spectrometer, then quickly crossed the room, listening at the door with an ear pressed to it.

“Alright, so,” he said to himself. “Amir seems alright. Attentive, helpful… just chronically late. Late all the time to the labs. He said he was going to come back from the lav as quickly as he could, but hey, it’s Amir. Amir is always late. What’re the odds that he’s going to come back out of nowhere, uncharacteristically earl—”

He told himself he was imagining things.

Pressing his ear closer to the door, he gave a sharp intake of breath.

Through the door, he heard approaching footsteps at a familiar, quick pace.

“Oh, by the Traveller,” Alex muttered, glancing at the timekeeper. “The one time you’re coming back when you said you would be.”

Five seconds left on the mana spectrometer and the manohmeter was done.

He’d have to move fast.

Chapter 44

The Core’s Properties

“Five… four… three… two… one…”

The footsteps were closing in. He thanked whoever designed the building for making it so large. The hallway was long enough to give him some extra time.

The mana spectrometer finished, and he quietly shot across the room. He and his Wizard’s Hands went to work, swiftly removing both samples from the machines and pocketing the readouts. The first Wizard’s Hand dumped the solid sample back into its pouch, while the second put the liquid sample back into the bottle.

Meanwhile, Alex placed the sample of the incomplete Potion of Flight into the mana spectrometer and had it turned on just as he heard the door open and Amir enter the room.

“Sorry about that,” Amir said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “I hope you weren’t getting too impatient while I was gone?”

“It’s alright,” Alex said, putting on his best relaxed face as relief washed through him. “You were right on time.”

‘The one time I didn’t want you to be,’ he told himself. In the end, he’d gotten another aspect of the analysis done, which would save him time later.

Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The rest of his lab time was less stressful.

Amir got up from his seat several times to check on Alex’s progress, but didn’t linger for long and soon returned to the paperwork on his desk. He still seemed pretty distracted—which suited Alex’s purpose just fine—though less than he had been before his trip to the lav.

While analysing the viscosity of the dandelion essence, Alex told Amir he’d made a mistake and needed to re-do the analysis of the essence’s viscosity. He’d actually done it correctly, but this time, he pretended he was re-doing the analysis, but ran the machine with the sample of liquified dungeon core essence instead, then pocketed the readout.

He resumed brewing the Potion of Flight, and luckily, he needed to legitimately use the piccoscope several times during the experiment to see if the puffball spore essence had bound itself to each of the other ingredients.

That made it easy to slip his solid sample of dungeon core remains into the device in between.

He gulped, then slowly put his eye up to the lens.

Something about this step made him nervous.

The readouts gave him more data about the remains, but this felt more personal. Rather than seeing bands or numbers on a piece of paper, he would be directly looking at the dungeon core’s minute structure.

Remembering the way the Mark had guided him through its network of mana pathways, Alex wondered if he would see the remains of those pathways, or what else he would be able to see.

He brought his eye down to the lens.

He’d been anxiously waiting to make use of the piccoscope to see what the smallest particles the apparatus could reveal would look like, but when he focused on the core’s remains, he saw… he saw…

A blur.

Alex frowned and adjusted a dial on the side of the piccoscope, bringing the particles into focus. There. His eyes widened.

The particles of the dungeon core were complex and jagged. Piccoscopes could see the tiniest things, even things invisible to the naked eye, minute things like the tiny unseen slime-like blobs that swam around in pond water. Dexter predicted in the textbook that—when more powerful piccoscopes were developed—wizards would be able to clearly see even smaller things that only appeared as tiny moving dots on present-day piccoscopes.

One thing current piccoscopes showed was that living things tended to have a more rounded shape. This jagged pattern indicated the building blocks of the dungeon core were more elemental, mineral or…

He squinted harder.

There were fusion points along the particles of the dungeon core. It was similar to how the puffball essences looked when bound to the other ingredients of the potion. There would be ‘fusion lines’ and ‘fusion points’ where mana had made the substances’ particles bind to each other.

“Artificial,” he whispered.

If this was correct, that would mean the dungeon cores weren’t living things. They were artificial, like magic items or…

He swore beneath his breath.

…Like golems.

What if they weren’t just like golems in structure and how their mana felt. What if they were golems?

He thought about what Lagor said about the first golems. They had connections to their masters, where they shared their consciousness and took on their masters’ thoughts and emotions. There was also the shapes of golems: the humanoid form was not necessary for them to function.

If one wanted to make a golem into an orb of darkness, one could make a golem into an orb of darkness.

His eyes narrowed.

When he was trying to push the dungeon core’s mana into the Traveller’s, he’d felt the dungeon core’s aggression and desperation. After going deep enough into the dungeon core’s essence, he was able to feel the connection between it, the Ravener and the other dungeon cores.

What if the dungeon cores were golems with connections to the Ravener? Connections far stronger than what golems would have to their creators. Connections strong enough to also connect with other dungeon cores at the same time?

Or…

Were the dungeon cores the golems, or were the dungeon cores the golem cores, and the dungeons themselves the bodies? The dungeon core in the Cave of the Traveller used its mana to animate the surrounding caverns, and shift them as it wanted, similar to how a golem core animated a massive body of clay, stone, iron or other material.

Perhaps a dungeon core turning a cavern or cave into a dungeon was similar to how implanting a golem core into a sculpture would animate it and turn it into a golem.

He shifted the sample plate around in the piccoscope, examining different particles.

There. Tiny little nodes that looked like they had burst apart.

They were completely destroyed to the point they would never function again, but definitely looked like the cracked remains of the pathways connecting a golem to their masters’ mana and thoughts so it could receive instructions.

This golem theory was gaining more and more traction.

Alex frowned.

Golems, however, were a mortal creation. An attempt to mimic the creation of life by way of wizardry, and perhaps to improve upon it in certain ways.

If each dungeon core made flesh and blood monsters—monsters that breathed, ate, and lived—then why would it need to create artificial constructs in order to make those monsters?

A disturbing possibility occurred to him.

Golems were a mortal creation.

What if mortals had created the dungeon cores too?

It would help explain why mortals could interact and control one. When a golem’s master died unexpectedly, several things would happen to the golem: they would go berserk in some cases or simply shut down. In other cases, if they were largely autonomous to begin with, they could continue to exist; mimicking the tasks their owner had set for them when living. If a golem was broken, a wizard or crafter could sometimes fix the golem’s core and connect to it themselves, essentially becoming the golem’s new master.

The mana of the dungeon core was nearly dried out when Alex connected to it. Was that why he’d briefly gained control of it?

He thought about the Ravener.

Where had it come from?

None of the legends or history texts really ever said, only that it was in Thameland and Uldar fought it.

Had it been working with mortals?

Were mortals helping it by creating its dungeon cores?

Alex chewed his lip.

Or was he completely wrong? He’d had golems on the brain for months, maybe he was reading too much into the connections.

Either way, he had a new lead, and he’d also found out the pathways that made the dungeon core function were definitely annihilated.

That was good. It helped confirm the dust wouldn’t suddenly be controlled by the Ravener out of nowhere. It also meant there would be only so much he could learn from analysing this sample.

As he took the dungeon core’s powder out of the piccoscope, his frown became heavy.

One day, someone—whether that was him or a professor he trusted, or even some wizard from Generasi—would need to perform deep analysis on a better specimen. A living or about as ‘living’ dungeon core as they could get.

For now, though, he had other readouts to look at once he was done with the lab.

He cleaned up and said goodbye to Amir, hoping the next time he saw the supervisor, he’d be on time.

Alex had used the last of his lab time to complete his Potion of Flight, something he was—quite frankly—nearly giddy with excitement over. Wizards could do a lot of really cool stuff, but flight was one of those things everyone wished they were able to do at least once.

Now, that power was in his hands.

What was also good was he’d already come up with some ways to alter the potion’s recipe slightly to be useful against opponents. An idea had come to him on a possible way to bring his musings to fruition on the potion bursting into a gaseous state. By using slightly more dandelion essence—packing the essence with extra mana—he might be able to make the buoyancy of the potion itself change, meaning it would expand and blast outward when it left a sealed space.

All of that he could work on later. In the next couple of labs, he was going to have the freedom to concoct some potions of his own choice—including potions he’d previously made. The purpose of those labs would be to train him in brewing large batches, and the reward was he’d be able to keep whatever he brewed.

This was the gateway to autonomy when it came to alchemy. Eventually, at least.

He had sat down within a secluded copse of trees, and now carefully retrieved the readouts he’d hidden in his pockets earlier.

The first was the mana spectrometer readout.

“Awesome,” he said.

It showed the entire structure of the dungeon core separated into the neat coloured bands. Now he’d be able to study it and see how much was substances he knew about.

The viscometric device results were promising. When liquified, the substance became what was often called prime mana viscosity. Essentially, it was thin enough to combine with many substances, while thick enough to create strong bonds whenever bonded to a substance.

“It’d be fairly easy to make magic items with this stuff,” he noted. “Or construct more dungeon cores from raw materials whenever one was destroyed. Hmmm, and now for mana conductivity. Let’s see wha—”

The words stuck in his throat looking at the readout from the manohmeter.

The dungeon core’s mana conductivity was astounding.

The reading showed the mana lost almost no speed when it was being transferred through the substance, and there was no waste of mana. With most substances that weren’t the pure mana circuitry of spellcraft, there was at least some wasted mana—a bit of energy lost during mana conduction through a material.

At least, through most materials.

One of the reasons quartz was used to construct golem cores was that it was relatively cheap, and its high mana conductivity meant a golem core would generate mana far more efficiently overall, and conduct that mana into the golem’s body at a faster speed.

One of the problems with constructing very large golems was they required materials with higher mana conductivity to construct their golem cores. If a material with lower conductivity was used, the mana generated within the golem core would take longer to flow through the body of the golem.

In the end, the golem would be slower, weaker and clumsier.

Wasted mana also meant that—even if a golem core produced an immense amount of power—much of it would be lost trying to pass through the golem core, which resulted in less power overall.

For certain materials in golem core construction, conductivity was king.

And this substance?

This substance might have been the emperor of those materials.

“I’m… I’m reading this right, aren’t I?” He stared at the number for the power output—how much energy the mana had after it passed through the dungeon core’s remains.

It was higher than the amount of power the mana had before it was fed into the substance. It likely meant something about the dungeon core energized mana. It made any mana that passed through it stronger, faster and more efficient. Like some sort of catalyst.

Materials capable of that were very rare.

He took the sack of dungeon core remains out of his bag.

The substance would be excellent in magic item construction, but—if utilized correctly—it would be nearly perfect in golem-craft. Rather than just power a golem, it would make it so that the golem could use less power and still function just fine.

Though it could mean that if the golem had a core designed for a lot of power output, this stuff would make sure all that mana was super-energized.

If the brass golem they’d worked on—designed to play multiple musical instruments—could bend steel now…

“What would a battle-golem with this stuff in its core be capable of?” He was nearly vibrating with excitement. “And this same stuff has similar properties to chaos essence, meaning the resulting golem would have the capability of evolution.”

He dug out two notebooks and began writing rapidly in both.

The first notes would be the report he’d make concerning his findings on the dungeon core. He planned to bring it with him when he eventually spoke to Baelin about the Fool.

The other notebook contained his design for his dungeon core. Using the Mark, he went over it again, jotting down some potential numbers.

“If I replace the quartz and copper with this stuff, then…”

His eyes widened at the results of his calculations.

“And if I just made the core a little bigger to dedicate more sections of it for the purpose of power generation… and with the dungeon core remains infusing my golem core…”

He laughed to himself like madness had taken him.

Professor Jules was right.

He was going to do some horrifying things.

Chapter 45

Design Improvements

“What do you mean we need to make the hole bigger!” Selina demanded. Her face tensed as though she wanted nothing more than to climb up on a stool to reach her brother’s throat so she could strangle him. “That means we’d have to re-draw all the armour-looking stuff around that part!”

“Listen, listen,” Alex said. “Trust me, it’s going to be better this way. Here, look at these numbers!”

He showed her two lines of mana output calculations, one using his original materials and one using his dungeon core remains. “Do you see how much bigger they are?”

Selina blinked at the lines of calculations. “Alex… I don’t know what any of that stuff means.”

“It means boom!” He made a smashing motion in the air. “Wham! Wham! Smash! My golem—”

“Our golem,” she corrected.

“It’s my golem: it’ll only listen to me… But if you’re a good little sister, I’ll let you ride on one of its shoulders and build stuff for you.”

“I am good; you’re the bad one that keeps changing it all the time!” Selina gestured at the completed torso. “It looks really good, Alex!” She leaned in, pointing at some of the elegant filigree they’d sculpted. “We’re going to ruin all of that for a bigger hole!”

“But with the bigger hole, that means a more powerful golem core, which means more smash!”

“Alex… maybe it’s already got enough ‘smash.’”

Alex gasped and recoiled as though she’d literally thrown ice water on him. “Too much smash?” he said incredulously, as if she were foaming at the mouth. “Have you lost your mind? There’s no such thing as too much smash. That’s like the first thing you learn in alchemy.”

Actually, the first thing he learned in alchemy was how to do things safely and by procedure, but Selina didn’t need to know that. For now. This sounded better.

“Alex, that sounds like one of the stupid things only you would say, like when you’re naming stuff…” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re going to let me name it, aren’t you?”

“Pffft, I can name my golem.”

“No, you can’t! The name will be stupid!”

“Y-your name is stupid!” he said quite maturely.

The little girl rolled her green eyes so hard, they could’ve rolled out of her head. “No, your name is stupid!”

“No.” He drew himself up to his full height. “Your name is stupi—”

“By the sapphire sea, really?” Khalik’s deep voice came from the entrance to the room. “This is how you two argue when no one is around? And here I thought you were crafting wonders.”

Alex slowly turned, his body now a gate on rusty hinges. Selina moved so quick, she almost seemed to teleport and suddenly became deeply engrossed with sculpting the golem’s fourth arm.

Her cheeks were flaming red.

Khalik was leaning against the doorway with a bag in his hand, one that—judging from the wonderful smell coming from within—was lunch.

His head was cocked to one side and his eyebrow was raised.

“H-hey, Khalik,” Alex said, embarrassment washing over him. “H-how long have you been there?”

“Around the moment you lied to your little sister. And told her that the first thing one learned in alchemy was that there’s never too much smash.” Khalik shut the door behind him and sauntered into the room.

Selina looked at her brother like he was the most offensive thing that had ever lived. “Alex,” she said dangerously.

“Okay, okay, okay, to be fair. In my defence. To be my own advocate here,” he said with his hands held up as though in surrender. “The first thing they teach you in alchemy is a bunch of safety stuff that you’d find suuuuper boring, so really, I just did you a favour by saying what I said.”

Her eyes narrowed in a heated glare.

“Oh, come on, I’m entertaining you!”

She continued to glare at him, clearly disgusted, though he could see she was fighting a smile.

“Ah yes, that mix of disgust and amusement,” he said. “That fuels me, Selina.”

His sister groaned and turned back to the golem.

Khalik shook his head. “I know what it is like to have such an immature sibling.”

“Yeah, that’s right—” Alex began.

“My condolences for having such an immature sibling, Selina,” Khalik said.

“Hey!” Alex protested.

Selina beamed and began puffing out her chest. “Thank you, Khalik.”

“You are most welcome.”

“You’re both bullies!” Alex cried. “You’re both bullies and I’m the victim here!”

Khalik chuckled, setting the food down on a nearby table. “So, this is what all my clay summoning is amounting to,” he said, passing his fingers through his beard. “Quite incredible progress. I swear the both of you were far worse at sculpting when you began some months ago. You’re prodigies.”

“Well, she’s the prodigy. I’m using… different ways.” Alex said as he gestured meaningfully toward his shoulder.

“Ah, so that is why you improved so quickly.” Khalik nodded. “Well done.”

“Really?” Selina turned to look at him in shock. “You’ve been—”

“Shhhh!” Alex said, glancing at the door.

She clasped her hands over her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” he said gently.

“Still, that’s cheating. You’re cheating.”

“I’m helping both of us get better, so I’m doing us a favour. It’s not cheating; it’s teaching.”

“And speaking of teaching,” Khalik said. “How goes your progress, my young temari?” he said, using his mother tongue’s word for student.

Alex smiled, falling into himself and casting a spell.

It was the latest one he’d learned. He made sure to go slowly and carefully as he constructed the spell array. Oddly enough, he found that—despite this spell having very little to do with any other spell he’d learned—it was one of the easiest for him to cast.

The magic circuit formed, and the magic reached somewhere very far off. He could feel the magic circuit’s every contour and the rush of something quickly approaching.

A weight dropped into his hand: a fist-sized stone from the elemental plane of earth. He grinned and held it up toward Khalik. Summon Stone had been the very last spell he’d planned to learn on his own when he got to Generasi.

Lesser Heat was the one he thought he’d learn first, but it had actually been harder to cast than Summon Stone.

Khalik nodded, drawing himself up and speaking like Baelin. “Very good, Mr. Roth. You are becoming very proficient and much faster, and the stone is larger too. You are indeed progressing like a proper young wizard.” He glanced at Alex’s shoulder. “And how goes your… other project?”

“Well, very well,” Alex said.

He glanced at the notebook lying beside his bag. His findings on the dungeon core remains were recorded in it, organized into a fairly extensive report.

After his last lab, he’d gone over his reference books and examined the results of the dungeon core’s composition, comparing it with the list of known substances he’d worked with in first-year potions and the far more extensive list he’d worked with while aiding Professor Jules.

The results were revelatory. A large amount of its composition was remarkably similar to chaos essence, and several other compounds matched many magic-rich minerals that assisted in alchemy that created life. There were also substances that acted as mana catalysts and even a few that were used in the branch of alchemy that aided life enforcement: elixirs and pills that advanced one’s progress in cultivation.

There was nothing in the material itself that he could detect to explain the dungeon core’s ability to convert fear to mana or any other emotional connection to magic. Likely, the aspect of the dungeon core responsible for converting mortal fear to mana, was tied to its ‘life force’ or consciousness, much like how a demon’s chaotic nature was tied into its soul.

From there, he was able to create some hypotheses as to how dungeon cores worked.

The spirit or life force of the thing converted fear into mana. That mana would then be run through the dungeon core and catalysed so it was far more energized and could do more powerful work. From there, it would be able to create life using the material within itself responsible for life creation, and make those living things more powerful through the part of itself responsible for life enforcement. Then it could craft those creatures into any shape it wished using the mutagenic part of itself similar to chaos essence.

He shook his head.

If he was right—and he could very well be wrong—then the Ravener’s dungeon cores were unbelievably advanced pieces of magic. There were spells and alchemy—very high-tier spells and alchemical processes—that created what were called homunculi.

These homunculi were forms of life forged entirely by magic. Except they were crude, and the processes to create them was very long and costly. The poor creatures were also soulless, as no wizardry or alchemy could craft a soul.

Perhaps far in the future, somebody would make that blasphemous discovery.

Yet the dungeon cores not only created varied, advanced forms of life, but did so automatically while also warping terrain around them. Powerful stuff.

What he would give to be able to examine a living one.

And if it came to that—trying to take control of one again—he was far better equipped to do so. Not only was he more skilled at mana manipulation, but examining the dungeon core’s remains gave him insight into how they worked and how to guide his mana through its pathways.

He doubted he’d be able to take control of one at full strength, but he was at the stage where he’d be able to try, and if it became too much for him, he knew how to disengage.

The only thing left now was to repeat some of the analysis. Good data collection involved repetition to ensure that the data was reliable and valid. Data gathered from one experiment or one session of analysis could have problems: there could have been any number of confounding variables that messed with readouts or reactions.

He would need to be sure of his research to the best of his ability before he went to Baelin. Part of him just wanted to tell the chancellor everything and get it over with. Over time, Alex had come to trust him quite a bit. Not as much as his cabal members, but enough he felt fairly confident he wouldn’t react negatively to his situation.

Another part of him wanted to make sure he’d done as much work on his own as he could before going to Baelin. Nothing about the substance indicated it’d be useful for demon summoning—which might have put him under suspicion—and he wanted to present as much of his own evidence as possible.

In the end, he’d become attached to his secret project, and rather than go to the chancellor like a child seeking help, he wanted to go to him as a Proper Wizard. One who’d used his own wits and adaptation to solve as much of a problem as he could before going to an authority figure for help.

It would be like COMB-1000. Baelin would be his safety net, but only after he’d tried his best with the problem beforehand.

He took a deep breath.

It wouldn’t be much longer, though.

At the very least, he’d tell Baelin before he brought the dungeon core remains anywhere near any golem he was going to make. He hoped that wouldn’t result in Baelin confiscating the substance, but—while he hadn’t found anything to indicate it would be dangerous when used in a golem—he definitely would like an older and wiser pair of eyes to check over his work first.

“Well, then, it looks like things are going well,” Khalik said, glancing at the golem. “And when do you think you will finish your monstrosity?”

“Whenever Alex stops changing things every time he blinks,” Selina said sourly.

“I’m better now,” Alex insisted. “I don’t think I’m going to come across much more that’ll make me change the design again. I’m pretty sure Lord Smasho the First is coming into his final shape.”

“No!” Selina shouted. “No, not that name!”

“Alex, I swear on my mother and father’s honour,” Khalik warned him. “If you name your war golem ‘Lord Smasho the First,’ I will pick you up and toss you into the sea myself, then blindfold Grimloch and tell him there’s a wounded seal for him to eat in the waters.”

“Alright, alright, jeez! I was joking!” Alex said, laughing. “Come on, guys, it’s just a joke! Even I wouldn’t name a golem something stupid like Lord Smasho the First.”

Selina and Khalik exchanged glances.

Later that evening, Alex Roth opened his golem-building notebook, flipped to the page that had his list of potential names and crossed out Lord Smasho the First.

“What the hell?” Alex slowed to a stop on the darkening street.

Instead of the usual crowd of workers heading to workshops for evening shifts, leaving work to pour into restaurants, or hurry home, the street was like a minor encampment of mercenaries and monster hunters.

Alex glanced around, watching as they entered weapon shops, restaurants, and other venues that provided arms and equipment.

“Well, it looks like hunt-mania is spreading,” a familiar voice said behind him.

Alex turned around to find Minervus; three of his golems were by the young man’s side, watching the crowd with their strangely doll-like eyes.

“Hunt-mania?” Alex asked.

“I see you weren’t in town this morning,” Minervus said. “The bounty on the mana vampire has risen again. The monster attacked a country noble’s son near the docks. The family has added their own reward for the monster’s destruction to the city’s bounty.” Minervus shook his head. “Fools. Still, I suppose it is tempting. Think you’ll go for it?” his voice had a detached tone to it, a cold neutrality.

“Pffft, no. I value my life. How much even is it?”

“With all the contributing funds?” Minervus’ face remained stoically wooden. “One thousand and five hundred gold coins.”

“One thousand what now?”

Chapter 46

Hunt-mania

One thousand and five hundred gold coins.

The number made Alex weak in the knees. He stood in the street pondering it as Minervus made his way through the crowds to get to work, though there was still quite a bit of time before their shift started.

Alex watched the flesh golems push their way through. Some of the adventurers—a few with shining badges of the Delvers’ Guild on their chests—shot glares at the three constructs, but none moved to create a larger fuss.

There was equipment to buy and hunting to be done.

Hunting for something worth fifteen hundred gold coins.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t heard about larger sums or things costing larger sums. Golems regularly sold for many, many thousands of gold coins. He was sure the sum wouldn’t be that much to someone like Isolde and definitely not to someone like Khalik.

But there was something about it being a reward for a mana vampire’s destruction that brought it closer to home for him. This wasn’t like the price for a powerful magical construct he couldn’t dream of buying for the foreseeable future, nor the cost of an advanced piece of lab equipment owned by the university. Those were distant, abstract notions to his current life.

This was a bounty for a type of monster he’d actually fought before. An almost reachable reality.

A thousand and five hundred gold piece reality.

Alex shook his head and let out a stunned whistle.

If he were still working for McHarris making one silver coin per shift—and if he worked every day without missing a single one—it would take him a staggering forty-one years to earn that much gold.

Even now it would be an incredible sum. Each of his shifts at Shale’s netted him two gold coins, and each of Theresa’s at the beastarium paid her one. Together, they would have to work more than three years to earn fifteen hundred gold coins.

Between the two of them—each working three days per week—they were covering their basic expenses, which was thirty gold coins for the apartment, the junior school and Theresa’s course auditing. They had a handful of expenses above that, but all in all, they were breaking even and even starting to save a little each month.

The reward for the mana vampire who’d boarded the Red Siren had been a big help, and Alex hardly needed to touch his and Selina’s inheritance.

But that still hadn’t let them make much headway toward some of their bigger goals. He really wanted to buy a place of their own in Generasi City, but the prices were far beyond his reach. He was sure that—with a good job—he’d be able to afford something eventually. Though he had no idea how long that would take.

Selina loved it in Generasi. It was clear she did, and he’d hate to have to drag her away from this city that was giving them all a new start when he finished his studies in four years.

And this reward of fifteen hundred gold pieces?

He sighed, deep in thought.

It would be a nice start toward buying some property here. It could also mean other opportunities. He loved alchemy, but it was such an expensive branch of wizardry. Practicing it safely and correctly called for high-priced tools, a safe and clean workspace, and a competent assistant or two to lend a hand when one worked with complex alchemical devices.

That amount of coin could begin funding some alchemy supplies for him…

All that gold… just for killing a type of monster he’d killed before.

He shook his head as reason began returning.

‘Don’t be stupid, Alex,’ he thought. ‘You barely survived a starving one. There’s no way you would stand a chance against one at full power… would you?’

He looked down, flexing one of his arms. The now powerful muscle swelled in his shirt. Temptation came back.

Alex Roth wasn’t the same young wizard who’d been ambushed by a mana vampire on the Red Siren. He—as strong as he’d become—could have broken in half the ‘him’ he was when he’d first arrived in Generasi.

He also knew more spells.

He now knew how to regenerate his mana.

In speed, agility and reflexes, his present physical abilities were as different as night and day compared to then. He’d also been part of groups that beat a bonedrinker, an earth elemental and more. Had gone up against undead skeletons and a menacing haunt in a dangerous underground complex. There was a lot going for him now.

Of course, he also possessed a magical Mark that messed around and rendered him vulnerable, especially if he was alone in a combat situation.

‘Just because you’ve thought of ways around it and improved yourself, doesn’t mean you’re some super powerful barbarian warrior, or an archwizard, or a super deadly martial artist. Don’t let greed cloud your better judgement now. Besides—’

He looked at the crowd.

‘—you’ll definitely have a helluva lot of competition.’

Looking more closely, he realized many in the crowd didn’t have the same lethal look that the well-armed, hard-bitten monster hunters that made camp near the city walls had.

As a matter of fact, he recognized many of them: workers from some of the surrounding shops. Folk that came to work here day after day and bought their meals here, socialized with their co-workers, and at the end of the day, went back to their homes and peaceful lives. Now, they walked around with shiny new weapons and equipment, looking less like monster hunters and more like children playing at being soldiers and warriors.

Baelin’s words about the mana vampire from a conversation a time ago drifted back to him: ‘Please do not be so foolhardy as to go after it yourself. From the way this one has evaded detection and the pattern of its attacks, it is likely old, powerful and cunning. Know your limits, and let professionals handle it.’

He should probably do just that.

Anyway, he wouldn’t even know how to find the thing in the first place.

His eyes clicked to Shale’s.

Still, though, he did wonder whether or not golems would be useful for hunting a mana vampire. Maybe he could subtly ask during his shift.

“Are golems useful for hunting mana vampires?” Lagor repeated Alex’s question. “Oh, boy, don’t tell me all that hunting-mania’s gone to your head too. Don’t do anything stupid. I need all my assistants here. And alive. And not so broken they’ll never work mana again.”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Alex said.

He, Minervus and Carmen were helping Lagor install a golem core into the completed body of a clay golem. It had been a busy night with them working intensely to get the work completed on this final rush job for the week. Unfortunately, the golem core had been late to arrive. While Lagor and his assistants built the body, another crafter’s team forged the core. The core was a bit of a specialty: designed to power some magical items of lightning magic that would be implanted into the golem’s arms.

Since they’d received it so late, they’d really had to push to get it fitted into the setting in time. Now, they were taking a breather and having their last break before activating the construct for the very first time.

“You’re not thinking of going after it, are you?” Lagor pressed him.

“No, no!” Alex said. “I was just curious. I’ve been seeing so many people suiting up to go after it and it got me wondering if maybe some of them would try and make a golem to take it down.”

“Good,” Lagor said, a grim look taking his features. “We’re down enough assistants as-is.”

Alex knew what he meant. When he’d arrived for his shift, he was shocked to learn that at least three or four staff members were missing: assistants to some of the other crafters. Fewer assistants had been one of the reasons Lagor’s team received the golem core so late. Apparently, all of the missing either sent word they were sick or a family emergency had come up.

The orc crafter seemed to have doubts about their excuses.

“Fifteen hundred gold coins is a tempting amount of wealth,” Lagor grunted. “But your life’s worth a hell of a lot more. Ugh, I hate hunt-mania.”

“Wait, that’s really a thing?” Alex asked, having missed it the first time Lagor used it.

He’d thought it was just a term Minervus made up.

“Of course it is. I specifically told you about it, didn’t I?” Minervus said with acid in his voice.

Alex resisted the urge to respond.

“Oh yeah, there’s such a thing, for sure.” Lagor grimaced. “Last time it happened was about ten years ago. A wily young wyvern flew in from the north on a hot wind and nested in the southern countryside. First, it started stealing milk from cows, sneaking into barns in the dark and suckling while the cows were asleep. Then it graduated to eating a couple of the young calves, then goats, then a full-grown cow or two.”

Lagor listed the wyvern’s deeds on his fingers, shaking his head all the while. “It was just considered a nuisance at first, and we do have the odd monster menacing the countryside or the port at times, but then it ate a miller on his way home one evening. That’s when the city took notice. Well, then it started breaking into the nobles’ wine cellars and drinking up their vintages. That got them really mad. But the bloody thing was smart.”

He spread his arms as though he were the wyvern about to take flight. “It only flew at night and it flew high. Only picked fights with monster hunters that had no wizards with them, or wizards it could catch off-guard. The reward kept climbing. When it hit a thousand gold coins, suddenly, a bunch of the city folks got big ideas. Hunt-mania, it was called. Everyone got it into their heads they could set themselves on the path of riches by hunting the thing down, claiming the reward, and selling the valuable parts to alchemists. Students and honest, simple workers dropped everything to become monster hunters. And a lot of people died.”

Alex grimaced. “And what happened to the wyvern? Did a professional monster hunter get it?”

“No,” Lagor snorted and amusement entered his eyes. “It wasn’t even a wizard either. It was a stableboy.”

“What?” Minervus piped up, raising an eyebrow. “Was the stableboy perhaps some sort of mighty beastfolk?”

“Nope, he was human. He just hit on an idea. You see, wyverns are immune to most poisons, but the stableboy realized it must’ve liked alcohol a lot if it kept breaking into wine cellars. So he bought a bunch of cheap booze from the market with his family’s savings and added a big batch of his grandpa’s moonshine recipe. Apparently, Grandpa was an herbalist, so it was strong stuff. The boy set it out on a hill in some barrels one night and waited.

“The wyvern flew down and drank its fill. The damn thing got so drunk, it threw its guts up and passed out right there on the hill. The stableboy walked up, put a pitchfork through the beast’s eye and made himself rich.”

“That’s a great story,” Alex said. “Like a fairy tale from old times: the clever youngster overcomes the big beastie.”

“No, it isn’t a great story,” Lagor grunted. “Cuz now, everyone thinks about him and goes, ‘Hey, if a stableboy can kill a wyvern, then I can kill a mana vampire, or a griffin, or whatever the city wants dead.’ But all they end up doing is wasting their time or their life.”

“Oh,” Alex said.

He was reminded of Professor Jules’ story about how young students got themselves killed by looking for monster organs that were worth a lot in wizardry, before the academy gated much of that knowledge away from them.

‘I suppose most folks would go for dangerous opportunities if the reward was right,’ he thought. ‘Including me, maybe. Didn’t I brave silence-spiders and a cave of portals just for the chance to become a wizard?’

He shook his head at himself.

Maybe he would’ve gone after the mana vampire if he were more powerful and didn’t have the Mark to deal with. Or maybe if he were desperate enough.

Lagor glanced back up at the golem. “And to answer your question: it’s complicated. Mana vampires can drain golems pretty damn easy because they’re constructs made with mana. Apparently, their mana’s not as nourishing to them as mana and spells from living beings, but they still go for golems if pressed. Sorta like a snack, I guess. That said, better a golem gets drained than you. And while a mana vampire is draining a golem, you—and preferably some friends that aren’t wizards—can come in and smash its skull open.

“Plus, if you’ve got a really strong golem, then it could rip a mana vampire in two before the creature could drain it. So, it all depends on the golem and how you use it. But enough of that for now, we got work to do. Let’s stop hanging around and get this thing started. The faster we turn it on and run the tests, the faster we can get it ready and be helping the other teams.”

Alex sprang up from his seat as Minervus and Carmen got up and put their masks back on.

This would be an important moment.

While he’d been around for the first activation of other golems, this would be the first time Lagor would be allowing his assistants to directly guide the mana into the core to start one up.

It would be a crucial experience for when he activated his own.

Hopefully, it would all go as to routine.

He glanced up at the golem core prepared by the other team.

It seemed to glow in readiness.

Chapter 47

Rampage

“You’ll be following my lead,” Lagor said as he and his three assistants drew their mana conductors. “I’ll go in first and use my mana to jump-start the mana process. Carmen, I want you to power up the section that controls its movements, and Minervus, you’ll empower the section that’ll connect with its master to receive instructions. Alex, you’ll work on the section responsible for connecting to the embedded magic items, in this case, the lightning rods. Once you have your tasks completed, then come join me in activating the golem’s power generation. Got it?”

Carmen, Alex, and Minervus acknowledged the crafter before climbing the small scaffold in back of the large golem.

Lagor reached over to a metal cup-like device connected to a long tube in the wall and spoke into it. “First floor! Workshop room three! Test golem activation beginning! Look alive!”

His voice boomed throughout the workshop.

They all took positions at equidistant spaces behind the golem’s back, and raised their mana conductors like they were drawing swords to fight a duel. As one, they slowly pressed their conductors to the hole in the golem’s upper back.

Alex closed his eyes and waited for Lagor to make the first move.

Vooom.

He stiffened, awe-struck.

In his interactions with the crafter, it was sometimes easy to think of Lagor as a broad-shouldered tradesman, or a quick-witted engineer, and not as what he really was: a wizard.

At this moment, the truth of who he actually was became undeniable.

Lagor’s mana pool was enormous.

If Alex’s pool had grown from the equivalent of a shallow well to a deep forest pond, then Lagor’s was a massive lake. Alex’s own mana shuddered as the crafter’s surged close by, filling the golem core.

Even with the more advanced mana regeneration techniques he was learning from Val’Rok, it would’ve taken him days to build up enough mana to equal how much Lagor was putting out.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt Minervus’ and Carmen’s mana follow Lagor’s into the golem core, and his followed shortly after.

Alex’s mana surged through the tiny pathways built into the golem core with an incredible familiarity. He activated the Mark and images appeared. First, he saw himself working with the cubes from Val’Rok’s class; next, his work in potions labs, and finally, the time he pushed his mana into the dungeon core.

It was the images from the dungeon core that the Mark seemed most focused on showing him. It helped guide him through the pathways within the golem core until he reached the section responsible for connecting the core to the lightning rods built into the forearms.

He proceeded, slowly and steadily, letting the Mark show him what he was doing right, and gradually increasing his efficiency in his task. He felt the precise pathways to the lightning rods and explored them lightly at first, making sure he’d felt out each and every corner of the mana pathways.

Then, Alex began to draw from his mana pool and poured his mana deep within his section of the golem core. He gritted his teeth as he felt the pathways begin to spark with energy.

He applied his mana regeneration technique at the same time, producing more energy while he continued to pour mana through the pathways. Even as he did so, it was quite obvious he had a long way to go before he’d be able to generate enough energy to power a golem core like Lagor could. Still, what he was creating was enough for the task he’d been given, and the more his mana poured through the paths, the stronger the connection between the golem core and the magic circuits within the lightning rods was. Alex’s mana began to flow back and forth between the core and the rods, strengthening the connection until finally—

Voom.

The pathways began to direct the mana back and forth on their own. He pulled away from his section and joined Lagor to also direct his mana into activating the golem core’s internal mana generation as they’d been instructed to do.

He was the first assistant there, and he gritted his teeth in focus. Lagor’s mana—masterfully directed—enveloped all the inner mana-activators within the power generator, pouring power into them to jump-start each reaction. Alex joined him, targeting some of the activators the crafter wasn’t currently working on and took a deep breath as he felt his mana rapidly draining out of him.

It almost felt like a mana vampire was drawing mana from him. Each activator required a lot of power to jump-start, and he was barely able to provide enough. It wasn’t that he was having trouble with the technique, it was more a question of trying to fill a lake with a bucket of water.

Soon, Carmen and Minervus joined him and Lagor, adding their mana. Still, it was clear that neither of them made a huge difference in how quickly the process was proceeding: most of the power needed was coming from Lagor, who appeared inexhaustible.

If Lagor had that much mana, Alex shuddered to think how much his professors like Ram and Jules had. And Val’Rok—who specialized in mana manipulation—would likely have an even bigger reservoir of it.

He didn’t even want to think about what sort of bottomless sea of magic dwelled within Baelin.

Or the Ravener, considering all the dungeon cores it could produce. If it even used mana.

He brought his mind back to task. He was starting to feel sparks of power lighting up in the golem core. The core fed on their combined mana like a hungry infant, and Alex was sensing the beginnings of a new mana developing and surrounding his own: it was the golem core’s.

It was starting to gain enough mana for its internal reactors to hit that critical stage where they became self-sustaining. At first, the mana it produced was a trickle. Then a stream.

Lagor concentrated, continuing to feed it.

“Ugh,” he grunted. “Gotta talk to Farro about his designs: this thing eats mana like a pig.”

He gave a strong push of his mana.

Voom.

Alex felt a shock and all four of them were nearly pushed completely out. It was like the sun had come into being with the core. A sun made of mana. An enormous surge of power poured through the core, connecting with all the other activated sections and glowing through the golem.

There was a surge in the air itself as the construct came ‘alive.’

Alex watched with wide eyes as the golem core shone with a burning power.

“Alright, everyone back!” Lagor barked, reaching over to a hook to retrieve a thick mana vacuum and connecting it to the core. A massive waste container sat in the corner of the room. They clambered off the scaffold and stood facing the golem.

Lagor and his three assistants stepped back to view their creation. Alex gaped in awe.

He’d been working at Shale’s long enough to be present for the first activation of other golems in the workshop, but this time was different. By connecting with this one so deeply, he could actually feel the power coming off of it, bringing it to ‘life.’

“Remarkable,” Alex muttered.

“You get used to it.” Carmen looked over at him. “First time, though, everyone reacts like that.”

Minervus however watched intently.

“Hm,” Lagor noted. “It’s giving off a little more waste mana than it should. Might need to give the core a little reconfiguration before we send it off. Right then, I’ll connect to it by myself for now.”

Lagor—whose connection with the golem was strongest—shunted out his assistants, causing a wrenching sensation to wash through Alex. With only one wizard connected to the construct, it shuddered as the connection solidified and Lagor’s mental presence contacted it.

Alex called his Wizard’s Hands, carrying a clipboard and paper pad with a checklist.

“Right, step test first,” Lagor said. “Golem, take three paces forward.”

There was a grinding sound.

An earth-shaking one as the golem core prepared to move the body for the first time. Soon, the golem’s movements quieted as it took its first giant step forward.

Thm.

The ground seemed to shake from its weight.

Alex noted down the length of its step as measured by a series of notches on the floor beneath it. Minervus recorded how long it took to make that step, and Carmen recorded general observations about its balance. As the examination continued, Lagor’s verbal commands became less and less detailed so he could observe how capable the golem was at responding to subtleties in commands. This was to test how well it responded to intent, since he was no longer breaking down every single step of what he wanted it to do.

Finally, he fell silent, giving it commands through sheer will alone, transmitted through mana manipulation.

Lagor continued through the process: having the golem raise its arms, rotate them, swing them from side to side and balance on one foot. He then instructed it to proceed to the side of the workroom and begin lifting a series of weights that had been placed against the wall, each of increasing mass.

All the while, the assistants recorded various observations about its movements, while Lagor noted the feel of the mana coursing through it, and how well it responded to commands.

At last, they reached the final test.

“Right, then, time for a little light show,” the orc crafter said. “Golem. I want you to use the lightning in your arms to blast that target in the back.”

He pointed to a copper target grounded into a stone in the floor. The towering construct turned toward it and raised its arms.

Crackle.

Two blasts of lightning shot from its hands and struck the target. The magic briefly crackled in the air before it finally disappeared.

“Hohoho!” Lagor laughed beneath his mask. “Now I see why Farro made it draw so much mana—that’s a lot of power! This thing’ll make one heck of a—”

His humour faded.

Alex watched him for a moment then froze as well.

Something was off.

Although the lightning had finished striking the target, Alex could still feel a charge in the air.

Minervus had gone very still.

Carmen’s body went stiff as—

‘Wait, forget her body; is her hair standing on end!’ Alex thought, his fear rising.

Swearing, Lagor threw a switch.

The mana vacuum hummed to life and mana began to pour from the core and into the waste container.

With it, the charge started to recede from the air.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief, until he noticed Lagor still looked highly alert.

“Grrrrrrrrrrrm.” A grinding, earthy growl echoed from somewhere deep within the golem’s body.

Its form flashed as bright as a thunderbolt.

“Get down!” Lagor shouted, diving to the ground. “Now!”

Alex leapt to the stones, with Minervus and Carmen ducking down as one.

Craaaaaack! Booooom!

Lightning blasted out in all directions from the golem, nearly blinding Alex.

Electricity coursed through some of the metal in the room and blew the mana vacuum off the golem core. No longer restrained, the golem turned, and Alex felt its mana surge as a deep, terrible growl echoed from within it.

Lagor was on his feet in an instant, running to grab the cup and hose he’d spoken into earlier. “Code white! Code white! Berserk golem in workshop room three!”

He looked at his apprentices. “Everybody out—Now!”

Before they could move, the golem surged for Lagor. Electricity crackled along its body with sparking fists clenched. Lagor ducked a sweeping blow as it ploughed past him.

Boom!

Its fist crashed through a piece of equipment and cracked a stone in the wall. Lightning crackled around the split. The golem whirled, stomping toward the assistants; they lay between it and the door.

Alex yelped and rolled out of its path just as a massive clay foot came down, shaking the ground beneath him. It surged for the doorway.

Minervus looked up at it, his face a mask of concentration.

Boom!

The door burst inward.

His flesh golems—heeding his call—rushed into the room. The rampaging monstrosity was more than two feet taller than they were and must have outweighed them by half a ton or more, but they charged in without hesitation, slamming into the giant construct. The force of their charge sent the gigantic golem stumbling back, but lightning blasted through Minervus’ golems and their bodies instantly went into spasms, their mana-animated muscles contracting from the shock. They fell away from the larger construct.

Lagor shouted an incantation. Large, glowing metal chains shot out of the earth and wrapped around the creature, quickly tightening. The golem struggled against its bonds while Lagor shouted the same spell over and over, enwrapping it in a web of chains.

Another growl emerged and another wave of lightning blasted from it, but it was channelled into the metal chains and grounded into the stone floor at its feet. One of the chain’s links popped as the golem threw all of its strength against its restraints.

“Get those security golems in here!” Lagor shouted toward the shattered doorway.

Crack.

Pieces of clay cracked off as the massive construct tore one of its arms free. It scooped a bulky piece of equipment off the floor and lifted it up to toss at Lagor.

“No!” Alex ordered one of his Wizard’s Hands to distract its attention while the other grabbed the mana vacuum.

Carmen jumped to her feet and shouted an incantation.

She began to transform. Her body narrowed, lengthened and flowed until her human form was gone, replaced by a giant, sinewy form of a serpent at least thirty feet long.

Her scales looked to be made of stone.

She shot forward with shocking speed, coiling around the golem and trying to pull one of its arms back toward its body. It still held on to the piece of equipment.

The serpent shuddered as lightning coursed over her scales. “Can’t… hold it… forever!” she hissed. Alex barely recognized Carmen’s voice through the creature’s hissing tones.

“Dammit!” he swore, diving behind the golem while a Wizard’s Hand brought the mana vacuum around its back with him. He was aiming to plug the vacuum back into the core, but the creature was thrashing so wildly, it was making his plan impossible.

Lightning blasted through the air again as it thrashed harder.

Pop. Pop.

More chain links burst apart. Carmen hissed, fighting to hold its arm.

“Dammit all, there’s no helping it! Destroy the body!” Lagor roared as he fired thin green rays of magic that turned sections of the construct to dust.

The golem fought to free itself as Alex considered the best way to get it plugged in. Maybe between his own effort and using both Wizard’s Hands, he could manage to get the vacuum reconnected to the core.

Then Minervus was beside him. “My golems will hold it! We’ll work together so you can re-attach the mana vacuum!”

The narrow-faced young man looked at his smoking golems. They shook off the electricity coursing through them and jumped back on the berserk golem, joining Lagor’s chains and the transformed Carmen to try and hold it still.

There was a sickening scent as their flesh began to sear.

The clay golem’s thrashing finally slowed from their interference.

Its core became possible to reach.

Alex shot a Wizard’s Hand forward.

Click!

It reattached the mana vacuum to the core.

The golem’s roar grew louder as its mana began to drain.

It strained against Carmen’s serpentine coils and shifted its aim, still holding the large piece of equipment.

Alex gasped.

It struggled to turn toward the mana waste container. He didn’t know if it had enough awareness to come up with a strategy to throw the equipment, or if feeling its mana being drained was making it respond to the threat, but either way, that container rupturing could cause an explosion that—considering how much mana was already flooding it—could easily kill them all.

Boom! Boom!

The ground shook harder.

The sound of metal on stone echoed from the doorway, and Alex whirled toward the noise.

Two more golems made of solid iron entered the door. The personal security golems of Toraka Shale.

The earth-shaking constructs closed in on the clay golem with ponderous footsteps. The first one grabbed it by the shoulders, holding the towering clay construct still as though it were a child. Then the second tore the golem core from its setting.

Instantly, there was a whoosh of mana from the air as the energy left the clay body. For a few heartbeats, the lightning rods continued to spark in the golem’s forearms, until they flickered and sparked out.

Carmen’s serpentine form slipped off the golem, flopped to the floor, and transformed back into her humanoid shape. She lay panting against the stone while Alex fought to get his pounding heart under control.

Minervus shook his head while Lagor swore under his breath.

More pounding footsteps entered the room.

“No!” A man was the first to enter the room, and Alex recognized the skinny form of Farro, the crafter who’d made the core. “What happened? Look at all of this damage!”

“Your bloody core was defective!” Lagor shouted. “That’s what happened, and it nearly took all of our lives!”

He stomped toward the other crafter, as though ready to lay him out with a single punch.

Minervus whirled on Alex. “You!” he cried, his eyes alight. “You were responsible for activating the part of the core that connected with the lightning rods, and it was after it used the lightning rods that it went berserk! What did you do?”

Alex froze as everyone in the workshop turned toward him.

His eyes narrowed.

‘Carmen might have turned into a serpent, but you’re the real snake, Minervus,’ he thought. ‘And you finally made your move.’

Chapter 48

The Opportunist

In Alex’s experience, people tended to treat ‘opportunists’ like lepers. And he couldn’t really disagree with that treatment most of the time.

An opportunist tended to be bad to be around. They’d wait for any chance to advance themselves—often at someone else’s expense—while pretending to be a harmless colleague, friend or ally as they waited for their opportunity to strike.

Alex was something of an opportunist himself. He adapted to situations and strategized, looking for the right circumstances to successfully execute a plan.

His revenge on McHarris was a perfect example. He’d longed for it for years, but waited to make sure he only sought it when he’d have the opportunity to enjoy it the most, while ensuring McHarris couldn’t retaliate.

But he didn’t look for opportunities to benefit himself even if it hurt others—unless they hurt him or were really huge jerks—but this wasn’t the case with Minervus. His track record showed that.

The second-year student decided that abandoning his COMB-1000 classmates when he thought it would benefit him was the right way to go, then he’d tried to get those same classmates on his side during the vent-drinker wrangling class. He’d tried to convince Alex not to apply for the job at Shale’s to give himself a better opportunity, but then acted like a quiet, helpful co-worker ever since. He’d even teamed up with Alex just now to battle the golem.

But an opportunity to eliminate a rival had arrived, and the old Minervus was back out.

“There were no problems with the golem core’s pathways when it came to connecting the core to the lightning rods,” Alex said calmly. If he panicked, showed too much anger or got defensive, it’d just lend credibility to Minervus. He needed to be cool, calm, collected and have confidence in his own skill. “Everything went to procedure and your mana was running through the core with mine, Carmen’s and Lagor’s when we activated it. Did you feel anything abnormal?”

He turned things back on Minervus, but the young opportunist came back quickly.

“I didn’t, but I wasn’t in your section,” the pale, narrow-faced student said, looking at the dully glowing core in the iron golem’s hands. “I’m not saying you weren’t following procedure; I’m just pointing out that with your… lack of experience—”

Alex noticed his eyes flick toward Farro—the crafter that made the core—as he said it.

“—that it might have been easy to miss something. You are a first-year student, after all.”

“A first year? At Generasi?” Farro’s face washed red behind his moustache and goatee. He was a fine-featured man and looked more like a rakish duellist from a stage play than he did a golem crafter. “Lagor, you let a first-year connect the golem core to the lightning rods? Are you out of your mind! It’s any wonder the core didn’t explode and electrocute you all!”

Alex gritted his teeth.

What he wanted to do was bring up that Minervus was responsible for the part of the golem core that engaged with the creator’s mental commands. That could allow him to counter-accuse him… except it wouldn’t solve the problem. It would be his word against Minervus’, until they figured out what actually happened. Minervus had more experience with golems and was in a higher year.

He could dig his heels in, and the emotional Farro would still likely focus on Alex for now. He didn’t want to do anything that would escalate the situation.

“Alex has proven himself a valuable member of my team,” Lagor growled, shooting a hard look at Minervus. “As has Minervus, as has Carmen. They worked well as a team, and reacted fast and together in the crisis. No panic, no show-boating. If it weren’t for them, your core would have let that golem do a lot more damage than it did.”

Lagor glared at the bent piece of equipment the golem had been preparing to throw. “A lot more. Lives might’ve been lost. Your core was drawing too much energy. There was an imperfection in it, Farro: you gave us a rush job and left us to clean up the pieces!”

“Me?” Farro glowered. “The core used more energy to start up because it had to power two third-tier lightning rods! I can’t exactly have it be as efficient as a messenger golem made of bloody balsa wood!” He glanced at Alex. “Alex Roth, am I right?”

“That’s my name,” Alex said cautiously. He kept his voice neutral, not wanting to start licking the crafter’s boots and begging. The last thing he needed was to give the man more reason to focus his anger on him. He needed time to think.

“What’s your previous experience been in golem crafting?” Farro demanded. “Have you ever participated in the first-time activation of a golem before?”

“This was my first,” Alex said. “So I followed Lagor’s directions to the letter.”

“No one’s questioning your ability to follow directions,” Farro said. “What I’m questioning is your qualifications for such a procedure!”

Alex glanced at Minervus.

He caught the tail end of a smile disappear.

He cursed inwardly.

This was exactly what that sneaky bastard wanted. No matter how you looked at it, this had been a disaster and blame was going to be assigned for it. Farro would likely be the first candidate to have blame cast on him, and so what would the man do if he were suddenly presented with an easy target?

Well, exactly this. Blame someone else.

‘Well done, you bastard,’ Alex thought bitterly. ‘But now what do I do?’

Turning things back on Farro would be a problem; a crafter’s assistant accusing a senior crafter? No way that would end well.

“I’ve worked with Alex since I was hired here.” Carmen was climbing to her feet and wiping sweat from her brow. “Both he and Minervus are students in first- and second-year, but they both perform their duties like they’ve been working in the field for years. They know what they’re doing, and I’m willing to vouch for that.”

She looked tired but was uninjured even as Shale’s medical aides sped through the throng of gawking staff, and went to her and the others who’d fought the golem.

‘Yes, thank you, Carmen!’ Alex thought, using the precious moments she’d bought him to think of a way out of Minervus’ trap. His mind worked as the medical staff carefully examined the lot of them.

“I’ll vouch for him too,” Lagor said. “I interviewed every member of my team and judged that they were ready for this step. What about you, Farro? I understand that two of your assistants are missing tonight. Means you and your lone assistant must have rushed to finish up by tonight. With just the two of you… Liable to be mistakes made.”

“You’re accusing me,” Farro said flatly. “After we’ve worked so well together.”

“We all make mistakes,” Lagor grunted. “Why pretend we don’t, when you know it happens? Then sometimes we make ’em again, especially when we’re hurrying. Except they might kill us next time around.”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Farro said. “But I’m telling you, I didn’t make a mistake. The golem core was functioning as intended. Someone must have messed up in the activation process. I know you’ve got strong control over constructs, so I doubt it was an error in your control, Lagor.”

Alex’s brow furrowed, thinking of all the factors.

Lagor’s anger had focused on Farro and on a potential flaw in the core. It made sense: the golem nearly killed him. Minervus focused them on Alex as a scapegoat, accusing him of making a mistake.

He didn’t think he’d made a mistake. He called up the Mark. It showed him an unbroken line of images of himself powering up his section of the core. There was nothing in the Mark’s detailed memories to indicate any mistake on his part.

What was going on?

If the core wasn’t the problem and he hadn’t made a mistake, what could have happened? The golem body? No, Lagor, he, Carmen and Minervus built that carefully. They’d made many golems together and none of them had ever gone berserk before, either during testing in the workshop or after they’d been delivered to the customer.

So then…

Alex paused, glancing at the body again.

“Wait!” Alex said. “Could there be something wrong with the lightning rods?” he asked. It was the one factor they weren’t talking about. “It did go crazy once it tried to use them, right?”

Lagor grunted and walked over to the golem. Farro followed the orc crafter. Lagor cast a spell and his hands began to glow with a green light. They melted the clay wherever they touched the body, causing it to run like hot candle wax.

His hands sank into the arms of the inert golem and drew out the lightning rods. The crafter’s face took on a look of deep concentration, and Alex watched intently as he examined the rods with mana manipulation. He swore under his breath, tossing them to Farro. He examined them as well, then gasped.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Lagor said, glancing at Alex. “Good suggestion. Saved us time.”

“What, what happened?” Alex asked.

Carmen watched with interest, and Minervus had gone stark still.

“These lightning rods have been tampered with,” Farro said, his face washing red with rage. “This would look bad for Shale’s!”

“Tampered with?” Alex couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Lagor grunted darkly. “The spell arrays are altered slightly, just enough to misalign the mana circuit. They were fine when I first received them: I examined them visually and tested them, and they were perfect.”

“The spell array seems to have been changed to increase the misalignment over time,” Farro said. “It was done in such a way that it wouldn’t be noticeable at first, then at some point, the rods would malfunction and blast out in all directions, electrocuting the wielder. Likely to death. Looks like what happened was that the rods blasted through the golem’s body, wrecking a number of pathways and shaking your control, Lagor. Then the golem reacted to what seemed to be an attack.”

“Is… is someone targeting the shop to cause problems for Toraka Shale?” Carmen asked.

“Maybe…” Lagor looked at the inert golem. “But the rods came directly from the client with instructions to embed them in the golem. I have no idea where they got them from. Maybe whoever sabotaged those rods is targeting them. Either way, we’re done here. We stop all production for the night and catalogue all of our materials, then investigate this. Everyone’s doing overtime, and you’ll get your proper pay. I want to make sure nothing else in this shop has been tampered with. After that, it’s time to report this to the city.”

The inspection lasted until well after sunrise. Every single piece of equipment, material and tool was catalogued, and an in-depth examination was done for possible sabotage, but no other items in the workshop showed any sign of being interfered with.

As the morning wore on, the city investigators arrived and questioned everyone involved with the incident, including Minervus.

The narrow-faced young man had dropped all accusations after the revelation of the rods being sabotaged. That said, he hadn’t escaped a very harsh lecture from Lagor about accusing a teammate before the investigation even started. Alex smiled at that, but his smile faded quickly.

He had to admit it, what Minervus had done was cunning. He’d been able to come up with his accusation on the spot and take advantage of a situation that just happened to present itself.

What was key, though, was he hadn’t overplayed his hand. There was no falling apart by trying to convince Farro and Lagor repeatedly of his point, which would have removed his own credibility in the process.

No, when it was clear his moment had passed, Minervus once again became the helpful crafter’s assistant that was doing his best to aid everyone else in the shop. He’d played his hand, didn’t get what he wanted, but in the end, lost nothing. He had gotten a lecture from Lagor and a warning, but no greater punishment.

Of course, his accusation would make any marginal trust gained from them working together grow worse, but Alex doubted he’d care anything about that.

The problem now was, when would he do this again?

That was one of the problems with opportunists. Just because an opportunity to get what they wanted passed, didn’t mean they wouldn’t try again when the next chance to benefit themselves came along.

As Alex finished his shift—and was told how much his overtime pay would be, a small consolation for the night—his eyes followed Minervus as he packed up, checked his golems, and made his way out through the back.

Frowning, Alex gathered his supplies and followed.

The four of them headed through the alley toward the street. He trailed them, using all the stealth craft he’d trained through the Mark.

When Minervus was close enough to the street, he called out to the young man and jogged up behind him. The three golems and their master all turned at the same time, and with the same speed. Alex caught a brief frown on the other student’s face, which quickly washed away.

“Can I help you?” he asked in a neutral tone.

His golems leaned forward slightly, almost like a prelude to aggression.

“I just wanted to ask you something. But, keep in mind, we’re pretty close to the end of the alley, so you’ll have to keep your voice down if you don’t want anyone to hear what’s being said,” Alex said as he reached Minervus.

Minervus glanced back over his shoulder at the morning crowd and his eyes narrowed.

‘That’s right,’ Alex thought. ‘I dunno if you’d go so far as to attack me when we’re alone, but understand that people would hear the commotion.’

“What do you want to ask me?” Minervus asked, clearly impatient. He looked tired. They were all tired, though.

“Why did you pull that crap in there?” Alex pushed. Granted, he knew exactly why Minervus pulled that crap, but perhaps he could get a clue about what he would try in the future if he at least asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Minervus said.

“Oh, come off it, man, I know you don’t want me there. You don’t like me and want me out. Why?”

For a moment, Minervus looked genuinely confused. “Don’t like you? I don’t really have an opinion on you. If anything, you work well and we work well as a team. That’s all that’s required of a co-worker.”

“We did work well as a team,” Alex pushed harder. “We helped get control of the golem together and we did good work. So why are you trying to throw me under the wagon? If you think I work well, then why all that stuff with your bullshit accusation? Why do you want me gone?”

Minervus sighed. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. You want to be promoted, right?”

“I don’t know—”

“Oh, now you come off it.” Minervus frowned. “I’ve heard about your accomplishments in first year. That level of work isn’t done by someone with no ambition. So you want to rise in the workshop and it would suit me very well if I were to rise in the workshop first. Ergo, even if you aren’t gone, it would be good if the higher-ups were to remember your inexperience when it comes time for promotion.”

Alex’s jaw clenched.

It was about what he’d suspected. That made the snake standing in front of him very dangerous. Any mistake he could pin on him, he would. He’d have to think of a way to get around this guy, as well as ways for more than a little revenge.

“And what if I tell Lagor about this little conversation?” Alex asked.

“About the conversation that no one else is hearing?” Minervus asked. “Well, I haven’t said much. I brought up your inexperience in good faith. That’s it. We then talked about wanting to be promoted. So, with that in mind—”

Minervus glanced to the end of the alley. “—I’m going to go home and sleep. Then I’m going to use my days off to relax in the countryside and visit one of the wonderful food festivals: winter sausages, you see. You, on the other hand, can think about whatever you think this was all you want. Good day. Or maybe I should say good morning. I’ll be looking forward to our next shift.”

With a nod, Minervus turned and stepped out of the alley, flanked by his golems.

Alex’s jaw clenched.

Work had just become a lot more dangerous.

Mana vampire in the city and countryside, Minervus at work… danger of different kinds everywhere.

Well, at least school had been fairly safe lately.

Chapter 49

Lances, Cries and Shock

“Ido believe you are all ready to take on the xyrthak, one of the most dangerous denizens of the Barrens,” Baelin said from the front of the class.

‘Whyyyyyyyyyyy!’ Alex screamed internally.

The entire class went quiet at the mention of xyrthak. Alex, Thundar, Khalik and Isolde glanced at each other from where they were sitting side by side.

Murmuring spread throughout the class.

Since this class rarely had a lot of applicants, the classroom Baelin used for the theory portion of Art of the Wizard in Combat II was definitely on the smaller side compared to Alex’s other classes.

The general look of the room was a cross between a hunting lodge, an anatomy laboratory, and a war room. Maps of distant lands with strategic points highlighted covered the walls: all listed the names of kingdoms and empires that had long fallen. Scores of books sat on bookshelves, each a treatise on battle wizardry or combat in general. From the ceiling hung the skeletal remains of a wyvern with its bony wings extended. On the walls, skeletons of various monsters were mounted beside precisely drawn illustrations of the anatomy of monsters from the Barrens. Some of the diagrams were of creatures they’d fought, while some Alex had never seen before.

They were seated along long tables and benches like in a hunting lodge, but the seats weren’t made of the hard, roughly hewn woods in a typical lodge. Instead, they were soft and cushioned in something that looked and felt like a cool moss.

There was a far different atmosphere in this classroom compared to the small, plain one they’d occupied during the first semester. This one was a lot similar to the mixture of comfort and eccentricities found within Baelin’s office. Alex wondered if the switch to this room was something of an initiation, like the charm-pendants Baelin had granted them. When considered together with this classroom, it almost made Alex feel as though he’d become part of a secret, exclusive hunting club.

Perhaps Baelin decided to teach them in a regular room first, just so they wouldn’t be frightened off. Almost like he was laying a trap…

Alex shook his head, pulling himself out of his drifting thoughts.

The xyrthak. He remembered the long, reptilian flying monster that Isolde had described when they’d wrangled the vent-drinkers. Somehow, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

From the way she’d talked about them, it sounded like facing one would be way beyond their skill set for a long time.

Isolde raised her hand. “Um, Chancell—” She caught herself. “Baelin, isn’t this a little… premature? Not that I am questioning your judgement, of course.”

“And why shouldn’t you question my judgement?” Baelin cocked his horned head. “I am your teacher, not your parent, and most of you are grown adults. If you do so respectfully, then of course I should expect to be questioned or even challenged. As for this being premature? The answer would be yes… in some other years.”

He waved his hand over the class. “I shall be blunt, as well as pay you a compliment. In all my years of teaching, your class is one of the most advanced and impressive classes of the Art of the Wizard in Combat I have had the good fortune of teaching.”

He gestured to a map of the Barrens. “Usually by this point in the year, we would have lost several members of the group to the various monsters and hazards you would have faced. Not killed—most of the time—but injured or otherwise unwilling to continue. In one year, I had the misfortune of only having one student remaining by this time, so we were forced to cancel the rest of the course for her safety.”

“Really?” Malcolm asked, glancing at Rhea and Shiani.

“Absolutely,” Baelin said proudly. “In previous years, that one task alone of finding your orbs within the crevices often led to injuries or students dropping out. The mental damage a haunt can inflict unnerves many, not to mention the physical injuries both major and minor of an encounter with the undead skeletons or the traps.”

He looked directly at them, while seeming to also look through them. “I remember one student who joined the course in his fourth year: a gifted young man with battle magic who’d heavily specialized in fireballs, explosions and the like. But all of his training had taken a very narrow focus, tailored to fight on an open battlefield as a war mage. When attacked in a corridor, he found his main spells to be utterly useless. Of course, he possessed plenty of other useful magic, but since he’d specialized in none of it, he wasn’t used to that sort of fighting and was pulled down, and sadly, gravely injured.”

He shook his head. “A lot of the fight went out of him then, which was a true shame… a very, very bright young man. In either case, his issue wasn’t power, but rigidity. One can have the sharpest sword in the world, but if it is brittle, it will snap in half the first time it strikes a shield. While you all might not be the most powerful class I have ever taught, you have shown great flexibility. So what am I to do? The next practical lesson in the syllabus would have pitted you against gorgers: eight-foot humanoids that bear the intelligence of muupkaras, but are… well, eight feet tall. But they would not have provided you with much of a challenge.”

“That sounds like it’d be a bloody challenge to me,” Alex muttered beneath his breath.

“No, it would not,” Khalik scoffed.

“I dunno, you haven’t been around when something too-many-feet tall goes on a wild rampage.” He shuddered, remembering the golem.

“A golem is a lot more of a threat than the same sort of creature made out of flesh or bone, Alex. Think about it. Thundar is over seven feet tall, is strong and uses spells. Eight-foot creatures that are little smarter than beasts… we would chew through them like Brutus through his breakfast.”

“Grimloch would probably eat half of them all by himself,” Thundar whispered, leaning into the conversation.

“Actually, you’re right,” Alex said. “Damn, now I kinda wanna see that.”

“Shhh!” Isolde shushed them.

“Sorry!” all three of them whispered as one.

“My point being that gorgers would be no challenge at all to you,” Baelin continued. “It would be a waste of your time, as well as one of the opportunities you have to engage in good, challenging practice while in my class.”

He gestured to the xyrthak’s skeleton. “Instead, you shall battle one of the more dangerous monsters of the Barrens. You will be working together as a single group for this one. Xyrthaks are far too dangerous for even well-experienced wizards, and so would be far too dangerous to have you divided into small groups. Your task will not be an easy one, however.”

He made a grasping gesture with his hand, conjuring the image of what looked like a blue egg roughly the size of a human head. “The challenge will be to defeat a nesting xyrthak and obtain an egg from its nest. It does not matter if you kill the xyrthak, drive it away, or incapacitate it, but you must face it and defeat it while obtaining one of its eggs.”

His large hand spread open and the illusion of the egg hatched in his hand, and out of the image floated a lifelike map of an area of the Barrens.

“Oh, by the elements,” Isolde muttered. “That’s a mana vent.”

“Shhh,” Alex shushed her in revenge for earlier, and Khalik and Thundar snickered.

Isolde stiffened and slowly turned toward them.

All three were looking away by the time her death glare reached them.

Isolde’s concern was valid, though, his own petty vengeance aside. The mana vent would make things especially difficult for them when it came to approaching the nest. The nest lay at the top of a crooked tower of natural stone, rising just south of the mana vent.

Approaching from the north would be impossible.

Even approaching from another direction would still make things difficult once they got close to the vent. Granted, they were tougher than they used to be: more experienced. Likely, they could tolerate the vent’s effects better, but it would be dangerous to get too close.

“Unlike in previous classes,” Baelin continued, “I will teach you many of the xyrthak’s capabilities before you face the creature. I said you were a gifted class, but even experienced wizards can be devastated by an angered xyrthak if they do not know how to guard themselves. As such, you will go in prepared: heavily armed with knowledge, and whatever preparations you choose to make.”

He turned to the board and paused before turning back to the class. “Above all else, remember this: a xyrthak is an incredibly dangerous beast, and is especially adept at killing creatures gifted with strong mana. That includes all of you and some of your entourages. With that in mind, make sure you go into this with an open mind and caution. Just because you have exceeded expectations so many times during this course does not mean this will be easy. Be prepared. Be vigilant. And make sure you have your affairs in order. You do not want to be distracted during this class.”

Alex thought about Minervus, about the research he’d done on the dungeon core and the construction of his own golem. There was a lot on his mind.

He’d have to focus and clear it.

“Xyrthaks are reptilian creatures that are very distantly related to dragons, pteranodons and sea serpents. While they are not as ferocious as a dragon of their size, and most definitely not as strong or intelligent, they have abilities that make them more feared by wizards than many dragons are.”

Alex remembered Isolde talking about a xyrthak’s mana-disrupting cries and something about a lance.

Baelin floated up from his place at the front of the class and drew a staff from the air. He tapped the xyrthak’s jagged, teeth-filled beak. “A xyrthak’s bite is deadly: strong enough to tear through leather and flesh, and to crush bone. It can easily break most protective spells that any of you are capable of casting. Unless, of course, some of you aren’t telling me something, like Malcolm’s study of teleportation. In any case, I digress.”

Clack. Clack.

He tapped the horn of the skeleton. “A xyrthak’s lance is a terrible thing. It is constantly surrounded by a field of force magic, which vibrates at an extraordinarily high and disruptive frequency. This not only protects the lance when it strikes something with it, but gives it devastating destructive capabilities. A xyrthak’s lance can tear apart steel with ease, and its force coating allows it to break apart protective force spells like they were water.”

Alex’s blood ran cold, and he looked at Khalik and Thundar. The minotaur was starting to look worried, but the prince was focused: no hint of fear lay in his eyes. He only nodded as Baelin continued to describe how the xyrthak could kill them in all kinds of nasty ways.

“Further, a xyrthak can fire a ray of force from its lance that has a range of roughly fifty to sixty feet.” Baelin conjured another illusion, showing a lifelike xyrthak firing a shimmering line of force that tore apart the illusion of a cliff face as though it were soggy bread.

Alex glanced at Khalik. “I reeeeally think this thing might eat us. Like, we could give it a good fight, but that lance’ll turn us into bloody slush.”

Khalik shook his head. “Come now, think of the vent-drinkers. They scatter when they are attacked and cornered, do they not? Perhaps they developed such a response to avoid this very force ray. I know large birds—or a creature with that wingspan—won’t be able to turn quickly, most likely. If we spread out, we can cause it to struggle and hesitate in picking a target.

“Yeah, and then it’ll… wait.” An idea started forming in Alex’s mind. “If I throw in my forceball, or hell, all of us conjure as many magical sustained spells as possible to distract it, then that should make it struggle for targets.”

He raised his hand. “Baelin?”

“Yes, Alex?” The chancellor paused.

“How smart are these things? Are we talking sentient-smart, animal-smart?”

“They are sentient,” Baelin said. “More so than a muupkara, but they are dull-witted and slow of thought. They are also used to being very rarely challenged. There are stronger predators in the Barrens, but the xyrthak’s quick flight—they can outrace trained falcons—and mana-disrupting abilities make them rarely challenged by other creatures. Speaking of which—”

He tapped the rib cage. “The xyrthak has an organ between its lungs that can lace its cry with a mana-disrupting ability. This can be very dangerous. To an unprepared or weak wizard, it can cause a mana reversal. It can be resisted by measure of will, mana manipulation or by simply having a pool of mana too large for it to disrupt. But it is best and safest to avoid the attack altogether: it has a radius of approximately fifty feet.”

“Hmmm,” Alex muttered. “A lot of its powers don’t have the greatest range. That means it’d have to swoop low to get us.”

“We could use that,” Isolde whispered. “That’s within spell range and perhaps other tricks.”

“As for its defensive abilities.” Baelin gestured to its bones, and Alex noticed cracks around the wings and rib cage. “A xyrthak’s scaly hide is tougher than plate armour, but its bones—while thick—are hollow. A strong enough blunt force will greatly harm a xyrthak. Finally, a xyrthak is incredibly far-sighted: it can see for miles when soaring about the Barrens, but within a certain distance—” He tapped the skull’s eye holes. “—objects turn hazy.”

Clap!

Rubbing his hands together, his staff was suddenly gone. “Now, let us break into a discussion of possible strategies… Though many of you are already doing so.” His goat-like eyes twinkled.

Alex, Khalik, Thundar and Isolde startled, and he noticed several other members of the class startle as well; clearly, they were also having discussions. He gave a guilty look to his cabal members and settled in for the discussion.

An uneasy feeling began to grow in him.

This xyrthak was dangerous. Very dangerous.

It might be the most dangerous opponent Alex had ever faced. Even the hive-queen didn’t have a cry that could cause mana reversal by being too close.

He thought about his experiments with the dungeon core, his secrets and his worries. He thought about the golem’s rampage.

Alex wanted to show Baelin he was as competent as possible… but what if he never got the chance? For that matter, there was Isolde and Thundar to think of too. Khalik knew his secret and his capabilities. What if the other members of his cabal wanted him to do something the Mark wouldn’t let him to do?

His jaw twitched uncomfortably. He’d talk about this with Theresa soon, but it would have to be after his shift tonight. Theresa would be spending the evening with the Watchers of Roal and she’d been getting awfully excited about something concerning that lately, though she’d been evasive about it.

He shook his head. He could think about it after his shift. After he dealt with whatever Minervus might throw at him.

Alex knew something was off as soon as he saw the workshop from down the street. For one thing, most of the staff were outside instead of in the building.

Lagor was talking with more of the city’s investigators.

He grimaced.

Had there been more sabotage?

His pace quickened as he headed toward the group and slipped through the crowd.

When some of the staff saw him, they elbowed each other. Some grimaced.

Carmen caught his eye—he noticed her face was very pale—and slipped away from where she stood near Lagor, meeting him before he reached the group.

“Hey, Carmen, what’s happening?” he asked worriedly, eyeing the shop. “Is there something wrong? More news about the investigation?”

“No…” she said slowly. “Alex… I, the investigators are probably going to ask you questions.”

“Questions?” Alex asked, both worry and anger surging. Did Minervus try something else? Did he manage to find some way to implicate him in the sabotage? “What sort of questions?”

“It’s about Minervus,” she said.

At first, his anger surged and he immediately anticipated he was about to find out exactly what Minervus had done. But… something in her tone gave him pause. A strange possibility began to occur to him.

The next words out of Carmen’s mouth shocked his body like ice:

“Alex… Minervus was found dead this morning,” she finished.

Chapter 50

The Impetus of Death

“Dead?” Alex’s brain slowed to the point it felt like he was trying to think through tar. “Are you serious?”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like that,” Carmen said. “The investigators arrived about half an hour ago and have been asking all of us questions.”

“Did it have something to do with the sabotage?” He glanced around, wondering if would-be attackers would suddenly jump out of the shadows.

“No. It was the mana vampire.”

“What?” he gasped.

“It seems he’d gone out to the countryside,” she continued, her eyes dropping. “He was with his golems and… all that mana must have attracted it. The investigators said the golems must have wounded the creature because two of them had blood on their clothes, but it still got past them and… you know.” She inhaled deeply. “Apparently, they found him because his flesh golems were rampaging through the area after he… died… By the gods, can you believe it? We were just working together. We fought the rampaging golem together. And now he’s just gone.”

‘And now he’s just gone.’

Something about those words struck a terror in Alex that went right into his bones. ‘Just gone.’ One moment, he’d been walking to the workshop—everything normal—and the next, he finds out Minervus was just gone.

No climactic finish, no hints, no nothing. Just dead out there in the countryside, because a mana vampire got hungry.

That could have been any of them.

“Did… did they catch it?” Alex asked.

“No. Lagor asked and they told him that they’d hoped to use the golems to find it, but it was too late.”

“Huh? How would they do that?” Alex asked.

“The golems would’ve had a slight connection to Minervus’ mana while the mana vampire was…” she shuddered. “…digesting it, since the filthy creatures leak mana for a bit after they feed. But by the time they could be subdued, it was too late. The connection was gone.”

Alex remembered first learning that when he’d fought the starving mana vampire on the Red Siren. His mind shifted to the times Minervus had participated in COMB-1000 with his class.

“Jeez, that seems like a lifetime ago,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Carmen asked.

“Nothing, just… remembering stuff about Minervus,” he said.

“Were you two close? I know you were both students.”

“No. I mean not, it’s just…” He had actively disliked Minervus. Seeing him get fired or booted from the university would have put a nice, big smile on Alex’s face. But dead? Drained by an overgrown magic-hungry parasite? He winced at the thought.

There was also another feeling there, a feeling of relief.

He’d never have to worry about Minervus trying to ruin things for him at Shale’s ever again. With a deep breath, he acknowledged that thought and pushed past it. The situation was complex. He couldn’t say he’d mourn Minervus at all, and his position was safer now that the young man… wouldn’t be around anymore. But that didn’t mean he celebrated his death, only that he was thankful he was safer at work.

Quite a complex situation indeed.

Minervus had gone out to the countryside for some special food, from what he’d told him. Hadn’t he said something about his family being into gourmet foods? Well, his family had lost a son. Alex didn’t know what his mother or father were like, or if he had siblings or anything, but the family just lost a son. One who’d managed to make it to his second year in the greatest University of Wizardry in the world.

And now his spirit was in death’s grip and his body was just…

Alex shook his head. None of that really changed how he personally felt about Minervus in life, and he didn’t really know how to contextualize all of that.

“I understand,” Carmen said. “You don’t want to talk about it. It’s hard when someone—even an acquaintance—dies.”

“Yeah… yeah,” he said, realizing he’d just trailed off and never answered her question. “Alright, uh, so what now?”

“Right now,” Lagor’s gruff voice came from close by.

Alex started in surprise. The orc crafter and the investigators had approached them from the side, getting close without him realizing it.

They hadn’t been trying to be stealthy or anything. He’d just missed them.

He was clearly rattled and had been deep in thought.

Lagor seemed to read it on his face in a heartbeat. “Right, here’s the deal.” His voice was tinged with strain and a bit more gruff than usual. “These investigators want to ask you a few questions, then you’re both taking the week off. I’m taking the night myself, and don’t worry about the orders: Toraka and Sim themselves are coming to take care of our share. And you’ll receive your pay for the week. Use the time to do what you need to do. This work is finicky enough without the weight and shock of a colleague’s death so heavy on your shoulders.”

Alex could only nod blankly as the investigators came to talk to him.

An anxious feeling was growing in his belly.

It was only when he was walking back to catch a sky-gondola that he realized what he was feeling. His emotions about the death were also mixed with a great, big helping of fear. He’d known the mana vampire was stalking the city and countryside for a while now, but it hadn’t hit so close to home until now.

Alex Roth wasn’t the type to just fold up in terror at the thought of death. He wasn’t going to let Minervus’ passing suddenly make him quit his job and seal himself up in his apartment until the mana vampire was caught. He was cautious by nature. If he were the kind of person that utterly halted their life when death brushed past, he would have completely given up when the fire took his parents.

If he were that kind of person, then—at the first sign of a silence-spider—he would have turned around and ran back to try and find safety in Thameland until the Ravener was destroyed.

But this death…

Clnk.

Alex nearly jumped three feet in the air, and when his feet touched the cobblestones, his body tensed, ready to spring into action. He spun toward the source of the noise, catching sight of a group of monster hunters emerging from an alleyway with lanterns in hand. They—oddly enough—were following a cat with glowing blue eyes that padded along the stones, searching around like a bloodhound. It looked at Alex for a moment, then started off down the increasingly emptying street. The party of monster hunters continued following behind it.

He calmed his thundering heart. In the quietness, a familiar voice drifted to him from above.

Alex glanced up and saw a sky-gondola floating just above the rooftops. It was at such an angle, he could see who was inside from where he stood in the street, and the familiar form of Lucia the sky-gondolier met his eyes.

She still had the same half-dead tone of voice, and he caught snippets of the routine speech she gave each time she got a client. Just an endless cycle…

He thought back to the scar she’d shown them.

Did she have a warning when she’d been injured? Was there anything she or anyone could have done to prevent it? Or was it one of life’s sad accidents that people spent their years cleaning up after.

Caution was good, but sometimes—even if you had five flesh golems protecting you, and made clever, opportunistic decisions to advance yourself in life—none of that would matter when you ran into a mana vampire by chance on your way to get some food.

He felt himself drifting closer and closer to a certain decision, one that his more cautious nature railed against.

He felt the same as when he’d told Khalik he was the Fool. Only this time, his decision could carry far greater consequences.

He sighed. “I need to talk to someone about this before I do anything.”

Quickening his pace, he made for the sky-pier.

When he arrived at the insula, he found the apartment door locked. Tiptoeing inside revealed Brutus asleep on the floor, and a glance into Theresa and Selina’s room revealed the small form of his little sister sound asleep.

But no Theresa yet.

He glanced across the insula and saw that things were dark in Khalik’s apartment as well. Nothing for it but to wait, then.

Silently locking the apartment door, he crept back down stairs and took a seat at a stone table in the courtyard. Only a few others were there: a young couple who looked like they were finishing a very late supper lit by candles and the starlight above, and a studious young man muttering to himself as he squinted at a textbook.

His table was lit by a far less romantic light source: a forceball.

Alex watched them for a few heartbeats, just going about their normal lives. Could they be the next Minervus? He shook away the dark thoughts.

He sat alone—far from either table—and waited for his best friend to return from the Watchers. Eventually, impatience built and his foot started tapping the ground, then his fingers the tabletop. So he pulled out his notes on both his golem and the dungeon core.

Conjuring his forceball for more light, he flipped through the notebooks, taking in all the work he’d already done on both projects and contemplating the work left to do.

“Dammit,” he muttered, imagining what would happen if he were suddenly killed. What would happen to all this work and where would it go? What would happen to Selina?

With a sour feeling, he was reminded of the night he’d received the Mark and was faced with that sense of being doomed. Part of that feeling was a falsehood: just because someone he knew died at the hands of a mana vampire didn’t mean he was going to be its next victim, or that he was even in any more danger than he had been before he’d learned about the death.

But it put things into perspective, just like the demon’s attack had.

“Alex?” he heard Theresa’s voice from just outside the courtyard.

“Hey.” He waved at her, putting his notebooks away and crossing the stones to meet her. She was flushed and had a look of elation in her eyes mixed with confusion when she saw the look on his face.

Her training and life enforcement was paying off, she was definitely more muscular than when she’d arrived in Generasi. The transformation wasn’t as drastic as his, but then again, she’d already been in great condition when they arrived.

He shook his head. He was distracting himself again.

“Did something go wrong?” she asked.

“Theresa, can we go somewhere for a bit? I need to talk to you about something.”

She studied his face. “Okay, we can talk, sure. Is this, uh… a private conversation?”

“Yeah. But I don’t wanna wake Selina up.”

“Okay, come on. We can go to this spot I know.”

Theresa led him from the insula toward the university’s main castle. Soon, a hill rose up ahead, with a single immense tree rising from the hilltop. It looked ancient and beautiful in its own way.

He and Theresa sat beneath it, and he glanced around, seeing no sign of students or teachers close by at the late hour. In the far distance, he saw a patrol of Watchers of Roal floating along on their stone disks.

“We won’t be overheard here,” she said, looking up fondly at the tree. “This is where most of our life enforcement classes are held… and there’s always something soothing about this place. At least to me… What’s happening, Alex? Anything with the priests?”

“No, not that… but remember how Minervus tried to get me fired?”

Her expression soured. “Yeah. What’d he do this time? Wait, don’t tell me that’s why you’re here—”

“No, I still have my job. It’s just that Lagor gave me and Carmen the week off… cuz, well… Minervus is dead, the mana vampire killed him.”

Her eyes went wide. “By the Traveller. I can’t believe that. When?”

“This morning. Gone, just like that… So it got me thinking about something I wanted to talk over with you… just to make sure my head is straight.”

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath.

“I’m thinking about telling Baelin. As in, no more waiting. No more preparing. As in, as soon as his office opens in the morning, I want to march up there with my notebooks.”

His jaw clenched. “You never know what’s going to happen, Theresa. I’m thinking about telling him about me being the Fool, about the dungeon core’s remains… I’m thinking about telling him everything.”

Chapter 51

Consultation and a Leap of Trust

Theresa’s jaw dropped. “Holy… Alex, this is big. This is a big, big, big decision you’re talking about here.”

“I know,” he said emphatically. “I know, I know. But you know what keeps going through my head?”

“What?” she whispered.

“What happens if—”

“Wait, lower your voice,” she said quickly, glancing around.

He realized his volume had risen and he hadn’t even noticed. “Thanks. This situation’s got me rattled.”

“Yeah, I can see why. So, what were you saying?”

“Right, right,” he said, getting back on track. “All I keep thinking about is what happens if that’s me next time? What if that golem had gotten me when it went berserk? Or what if I come across the mana vampire—”

“Alex, I’m worried about it too, but just because it killed Minervus doesn’t mean it’s going to get you. If it got him in the countryside, that means there’s probably no connection between it and you.” She grimaced. “The poor bastard just got unlucky.”

“True, all true, I thought that too. But just… say for a moment it does happen.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’d make it wish it never crawled into this world.”

“And, I’m sure I’d appreciate that,” he said with a weak smile. “I’d be cheering you on from the afterlife, chanting ‘bloody vengeance!’ the entire time. Hell, I might even become a ghost just so I could have a front row seat, but that’s beside the point.” He searched through his rushing thoughts. “Anything could happen, and then what? What if my secret comes out? After hiding it from everyone I know, what if it comes out I was the Fool anyway?”

“Okay. You’re worried something might happen to you—Uldar forbid it—and then you never would have told Baelin, who’s someone you wanted to eventually tell. All that would be left unfinished once you…” she grimaced. “…died. So, what would be the consequences if you didn’t tell him?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She glanced up at the tree again. “Well, my professor says that sometimes our minds can sort of… build realities for us. If we think the world is shit, then it will be shit to us. That kind of thing, we have to clear our minds and try to see the world as it is when we’re engaging in life enforcement or we could slow down, or completely mess up our cultivation. What we’re supposed to do is see the world for what it is and what it might be, according to her.”

The Theresa from six months ago would have had some advice for him in any important situation, but here she was quoting her professor like a philosophy student. As much as he’d changed, she’d changed in all kinds of ways too.

“Right. So… you’re saying because I’m kind of panicked, I could be seeing things like it’ll be the end of the world unless I do something drastic?”

“Exactly. And I’m not saying you’re wrong. I just think we should think through what happens if you don’t tell him and then one of those scenarios does happen to you.”

“Well, for one thing, Thameland’s history books sure won’t look too fondly on a dead Fool who ran from his ‘holy duties’ with dungeon core remains in his possession. That’s going to look real bad, and it might even come back on you and Selina, and ruin your lives.”

He shook his head. “But I’m also scared if I tell Baelin, then that could happen anyway. Listen, Professor Jules once told me that the reason I was getting so much attention and help from her was because I was excelling in her class. I know that Baelin and I do get along, but how far is that going to extend? What would be in it for him if he went against Thameland if they sent a bunch of soldiers here to come and take me? Being a Hero of Thameland means I’m already a target of monsters. Now that things are so bad back home, I’m pretty sure some people basically consider me to be a deserter.”

“Yeah,” she grunted. “I guess being branded by our god kind of counts as being conscripted into the fight.”

“Exactly, which basically makes me a criminal. Would Baelin stop a criminal from being arrested?” Alex thought about the chancellor’s idiosyncrasies, and his focus on advancing students and wizardry. “I dunno, maybe he might? Maybe not if I was a murderer, though, but, I dunno… Baelin’s from a different time. Anyway, my point is he might keep me safe here if he still thinks I’ve got potential. But my spellcraft could give him doubts since my Mark makes it so that I’m slower with some parts of it since the Fool tries to interfere so much.”

“Really? What about all that spell… modification… stuff you talk about?” she said.

“Isolde can do that too, and I should be faster… but I’m not, thanks to you know what. Look, Baelin might continue to see value in me or he might not. I just don’t know. At this point, well, I don’t think he’s going to tell the church, but maybe a lot of the help I’m getting goes up in smoke. He might even accuse me of putting other students in danger, you know, since I’m a target of the church, the Ravener and whoever else is involved with this whole thing.”

“Right…. And you saw what he did to that demon that put students in danger.”

He winced. “Well, he probably wouldn’t freeze my limbs and shatter them.” Alex recalled the skulls on Baelin’s shelves. “…probably.”

“Probably,” she said, frowning as she thought about all of it. “Probably… probably… probably. ‘Probablys and mights.’”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, everything you’re thinking about is based on what might happen. What happens if Baelin thinks you’re a danger? What happens if the mana vampire gets you? You didn’t want to tell Baelin before because you didn’t want him to think that maybe you were the one who summoned the demon because you had reasons for not wanting priests on campus. That’s a ‘maybe.’ Maybe, maybe, maybe. There’s a lot of possibilities to consider.” She sat a little straighter. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.” The words left his mouth without a moment of hesitation.

“Do you trust Selina?”

“Absolutely. She’s smart and brave and… hell, she’s going to be an incredible woman when she grows up. She’s not one to go around telling tales if you ask her not to.”

“Do you trust my parents?”

“Again, with my life.”

“And you trust Khalik?”

“Yes. Khalik’s got honour and he’s brave and…”

‘And I know his secret too,’ he added silently. He hoped one day the prince would trust Theresa enough to tell her, or at least the other cabal members. He really wanted someone to talk about how crazy it was that he was actually hanging out with a prince.

“What’s your point?” Alex asked.

“My point is that sometimes you live in your head.” She gently cupped the side of his head with her hand. He could feel the callouses from her swordplay. “You try to think of every factor and every angle, and that’s good. It’s what makes you, you. But what do we all have in common? I just named everyone that knows you’re the Fool. Put aside every thought and plan and think about why you told me.”

“Because I trust all of you.”

“Yes. That’s what it comes down to. I hunt alone with Brutus, not because he’s a cerberus or is deadly or anything like that. That’s all true, but what’s important is that I trust him. He trusts me too. He likes you more now, because he trusts you. I follow Professor Kabbot-Xin’s instructions because I trust her. It’s trust, Alex. So, what I have to ask you is this.”

She looked at him closely.

“Do you trust Baelin?”

Alex thought deeply about it. “Do you trust him?”

“No, no, don’t ask me; it has to be you that trusts him.”

“And I value your opinion, Theresa. I want to know what you think too.”

“…I don’t know what he’ll do with this information. I mean, neither of us can know. But, honestly? Look at Rayne from class. You said he was basically useless during your test, right? Him and…” She winced. “Minervus. And Baelin is still giving him a chance in class. He keeps us safe during tests and always watches over us. Like I said, I don’t know what that means in terms of him supporting you or not, but I’d trust him with a lot of things, and we already trust him with our lives every time we go into the Barrens.”

“…Right,” Alex said, recalling some of his and the chancellor’s interactions.

He thought about when Baelin supported him when he’d told the ancient wizard about his parents. He could be terrifying… but almost grandfatherly at times. He had no love for the gods and—

Alex shook his head.

He was doing it again. Thinking, supposing, trying to logic his way through the situation. He took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts, looking not into his mind alone, but into his heart. ‘Do I trust Baelin?’

Alex thought on that question for a time. Then he remembered Baelin’s reaction to Selina and her fire affinity.

“Yeah, I think I do trust him,” he said while acknowledging that he was still afraid. But then, he’d been afraid when he was about to tell Khalik too. “For better or for worse, I do trust him.”

“Then we agree. Alright.” Theresa stood up.

“Wait, now?” Alex balked, looking up at the moon. “You mean, go and tell him right now?”

“No, because he’s probably asleep,” she said, preparing to make her way down the hill. “If he does sleep, that is. But, first thing in the morning, since you’re serious about telling him as soon as you can. Which means you’re going to need your sleep. It’ll be a big day, and we might have to make a lot of decisions after you tell him.”

“Yeah, right,” Alex said, getting up after her. “Hey, um, Theresa?”

“Yeah?” She turned and looked back at him, and in that moment, he was struck by how the moonlight fell on her dark hair.

“Um… thanks for getting me… and thanks for having my back. Seriously.” He realized that if Minervus suddenly dying had led him to decide to stop delaying talking to Baelin, then telling Theresa how much she meant to him was also something he wouldn’t delay much longer. Though tonight was about Minervus’ death, his own fears and Baelin. It had to be about him and her when he told her. And he’d tell her soon. He reached out and took her hand. “Seriously, this means… like, a lot.”

“Hey, we’re here for each other, right?” Her smile lit up her face. “Now, come on, let’s get back before we fall asleep under this tree.”

Holding her hand, Alex didn’t think he would have minded that at all.

Sleep had come surprisingly fast when he went to bed. He’d thought that—since his body was used to being awake and at work at that time of night—he’d have trouble falling asleep, but he’d been so emotionally exhausted, he’d passed out as soon as he hit his bed.

It was early when Alex woke up, determined to get his day started. As he washed and got ready, he mentally checked himself.

His heart was beating fast. It was pounding in his ears.

He was sweating.

And cold.

Either he was getting a freak cold out of nowhere—which would be just the way: getting sick, bedridden and not able to tell Baelin—or he was anxious. He swallowed and moved faster.

Alex was already so nervous, he’d better get to the chancellor’s office before he talked himself out of going.

He finished getting ready and gathered all the notes from his analysis. He also gathered the rest of the dungeon core’s remains and the book the Traveller was holding in her cave. In his time in Generasi, he still hadn’t found a single reference to her language. Alex took one last look around his apartment. Brutus, Selina and Theresa were still deep in sleep.

He gave them all a silent wave before stepping out the door.

“What… meetings all day?” Alex asked in shock, staring at a sign on Baelin’s door.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” said a voice.

Alex startled and turned to find a grad student he hadn’t met before carrying papers. The elvish woman’s hands were full, and more stacks of papers were supported on a force disk behind her.

“Do… do you know when he’ll be back?” he asked nervously. “Or is he teaching classes today?”

Alex thought he might be able to try and catch him at the end of a class.

“I don’t know the chancellor’s exact schedule,” she said. “But he doesn’t teach many classes. And if he does come back, it won’t likely be to see students. He has a lot to do today.” She winced. “A lot.”

That was right. Minervus.

The school, no doubt, had received news one of their students had been killed. Of course there’d be a lot for the chancellor to do today.

“But you say he might be back?” he asked.

She shrugged. “When he gets this busy, sometimes he returns to his office to do some extra work. You could try again later, if you want?”

“Right,” he said, sitting down against the wall by the office doors. “Thanks a lot for that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re really going to wait there?”

“This is important. I’ll wait as long as I can.”

She gave him an odd look. “Good luck, I guess.”

She walked down the hall and he settled in for the wait.

The day passed at a crawl, which to Alex, felt like weeks. Professors and graduate students passed him, sometimes ignoring him, sometimes asking how he was.

Several of them told him to come back tomorrow, but he refused, thanking them for their concern and determinedly continued his wait. His stomach growled loudly in the empty hallway and he soon began to regret not packing a lunch, snacks or maybe even supper.

Maybe he could just run down to one of the eateries and grab a quarter of a quail or some bread real quick? He stood up and stretched, thinking about going to the lav too. But how would he know if Baelin showed up and left if he was gone?

‘No, I’ll have to tough it out. I can’t take that chance. I don’t want to walk away from here,’ he thought. ‘And next thing you know, a bunch of stupid bullshit comes up, and then I don’t get the chance to tell him, or I lose the nerve, or something really bad happens.’

And so, he sat back down and continued to wait, watching the sun slowly drift across the sky through some of the nearby windows until it was the orange of evening. Professors were starting to pack up for the day and head to the stairs to make for home.

Yet Alex still continued waiting.

‘Ah, shit,’ he thought. ‘I never got the chance to tell Selina what I was doing. I guess Theresa’ll tell her where I am and that I’m okay. Maybe—’

Alex felt a surge of mana.

Click. Creeeeaaak.

He nearly flew up as the door beside him swung open. From his sitting position, he looked up to see the towering, horned form of Baelin looking down at him with his piercing, goat-like eyes from the doorway.

“Alex?” Baelin glanced up at the evening sky. “How long have you been here?”

“Uh, all day.” He scrambled to his feet.

Relief and disappointment went through him at the same time. Relief at finally seeing the chancellor, but disappointment at… well, finally seeing the chancellor. A part of him had been wavering between hoping Baelin wouldn’t show up and wanting him to.

“Truly?” Baelin said. “Truly. Well, I can’t say I’m too surprised… You worked with young Minervus, did you not? Here, come in, come in.”

Again, the door seemed to click with finality when it closed behind Alex.

“Uh, yeah, actually. But uh…” Alex glanced around nervously. He was starting to sweat again. “But uh… uh… that’s not exactly what I wanted to talk about. I know it’s late, and I’m sorry to take up more of your time, but I really, really needed to tell you something as soon as possible.”

Baelin paused in silence for a few moments, then looked at the massive stacks of paperwork covering his desk. He waved his hand over them, spoke a single word, and Alex felt the magic circuits for the teleportation magic form, sweeping the papers away.

The chancellor leaned back against the now empty desk. “Normally, I would say it would be best for both of us if it waited until morning. However, I can see a desperation in you. It appears something urgent is bothering you. So, tell me, what is it that has you so troubled tonight?”

Alex froze, panic surging through his body.

This was it. No going back now.

Gulping, he pulled his notebooks from his bag with shaking hands.

“Baelin, I… in Thameland… we have—” He took a deep breath. “If I don’t just spit it out now I never will, even if I have to explain it all later: I… I received something called… the Mark of the Fool.” He forced the words from his lips even as his gaze dropped to his feet.

“I’m one of Uldar’s five marked Heroes, meant to defend Thameland against the Ravener. And I, uh… came to Generasi instead.”

Alex waited, taking another deep, now shaky breath, then slowly looked up to see the chancellor’s reaction.

Chapter 52

The Chancellor’s Reaction

Baelin was as still as a statue, seeming like a flesh-coloured gargoyle someone had draped rich robes over. He wasn’t breathing and—in a moment of wild imagination—Alex thought he might have somehow died right before his confession.

Then he saw the chancellor’s eyes. They were moving, as though rapidly reading something in the air that Alex couldn’t see.

“…I see,” Baelin finally said, his tone unreadable. “I see. Perhaps you would like a seat.”

“Yeah… yeah, that would be great,” Alex said, quickly going to sit down at the desk. The suspense was killing him, but try as he might, he couldn’t read what the chancellor was feeling or thinking.

Baelin rounded his desk and sat, one large hand stroking his beard. He stayed in silent thought for another long moment before looking directly at Alex.

“First of all, I want to thank you for telling me. This is a great deal of trust you are putting in me. It was not easy, was it? Did you debate it for some time? Consider who you could trust first, then at last settle on me—aaaah, Minervus.”

The ancient wizard nodded. “I see. Death has caressed a life near you once again, and shifted your perspective… Is this not why you are sharing now?”

Alex felt as though—once again—the chancellor had seen right through him. “Yeah… you’re right. It… I wanted not to do it, and I wanted to do some other stuff…” He waved his notebooks, which Baelin watched with curiosity. “And I… but… Minervus.”

He realized he was still trembling.

“Here,” Baelin said.

Thmp.

A large goblet of hot cider was suddenly in front of Alex. He hadn’t even felt it coming. “Th-thanks.” He took it with a shaking hand.

The warmth and tart sweetness of the drink helped. “S-so what happens to me now?”

“Now? We chat about it for a bit now, then I shall get back to work. You will go get a meal, go home and get some sleep because you look exhausted, and then we shall chat more in the upcoming days.”

“R-Really?” Alex stammered.

Baelin cocked his head. “Of course, we will need to speak of this at length. And I doubt a quick discussion at the end of a veeeeery long work day would be sufficient. But I can see this is urgent, so we will speak some now and that will let me formulate what we shall need to discuss… and do, later.”

A stab of guilt went through Alex. It was the end of a very long workday for Baelin. On top of his regular duties, he was likely dealing with the aftermath of Minervus’ death, mana vampire problems, and the ongoing hunt for whoever summoned the demon.

Alex knew that if he had to deal with all that, he would have about as much ability to think at the end of the day as a plate of fried eggs.

He appreciated the chancellor taking some of his time to talk to him tonight, in spite of everything, and he was really hoping the conversation wouldn’t end with him being told that the Watchers of Roal were on their way to remove him from campus.

“I’ll… I’ll answer all of your questions,” Alex said.

“Mm… Am I to understand that your Thameish brethren would be searching for you?”

Already they were going into one of the topics he feared most. “Um, yes… yes. That’s right. Our priests—that’s to say the priests of Uldar—can apparently sense any of the Heroes when they get close. Their holy symbols begin to sing, like a choir. Apparently.”

Baelin raised an eyebrow. “Hmph, singing holy symbols how… very deific. And have any priests discovered you here in Generasi?”

“No,” Alex said.

“I see. One of the books on the lower floors of our library describes a certain divine ward placed upon your realm to stop both monsters of your Ravener and Heroes from leaving. How did you get past this ward?”

Alex gulped and pulled out the book the Traveller had clutched in her hands. “This… well, have you heard of the Cave of the Traveller in Thameland?”

“Yes, one of the professors in the Department of Conjuration brought it up at a conference earlier this year as a point of potential study.” He thumbed his beard. “So, you crossed into the cave and materialized in Generasi.”

“No.” Alex shook his head. “In the Rhinean Empire. Then I took a ship to get here.”

“I see…”

“There’s more. There was a dungeon and… well, it’s a lot to explain but I’ll try and make it quick.”

Alex jumped into an abridged recounting of how he, Theresa, Selina and Brutus journeyed from Alric, met the Chosen and fought the silence-spiders in the Cave of the Traveller. He told him about the dungeon core and how he’d broken it.

“Hold now.” Baelin raised a hand. “You were able to control this dungeon core? You caused it to change terrain?” His eyes turned distant and seemed to look at something Alex couldn’t see. “Nothing in the original research mentioned this, at least that I can currently recall.”

“There’s nothing about it in our history either,” Alex said. “From the legends, it should be impossible. Completely impossible. But a lot of things don’t make sense about the Ravener and the Fool, at least as far as I know.”

“Yes, indeed, which brings me to a further question.” The chancellor was examining him closely now. He snapped his fingers and a massive book appeared, floating in the air. A quill hovered above it, dipped into an ink well on Baelin’s desk, then rapidly scratched a note into the book.

“I have read about the Marks, including the Mark of the Fool, and my predecessor has met one of your Sages, but you have lived experience, so please, correct me if my understanding is incorrect. In searching my memories of Thameland’s lore of the Heroes and the Mark of the Fool, I recalled that this Mark hinders your spellcraft, ability to fight, and any chance to pursue divinities, is that not correct?”

“Yes,” Alex said.

“I see. And this… limitation—”

A sour note entered Baelin’s voice, and Alex’s heartbeat quickened. Was that sour note sympathetic? Was it against Uldar or was it against him?”

“—placed on you by your god should—according to what I know of the Mark—completely preclude you from studying here at Generasi. So, how is it that you are here, and… studying?”

“Well, it seems there’s… I don’t know how to describe it. There’s some loopholes in the Mark’s hindrance, and even some ways to push through it.”

He explained his experiments with the Mark and what he’d done to come as far as he had in wizardry.

“I seeee, I seeee,” Baelin continued to seemingly look right through him.

Scrtch. Scrtch.

The pen kept scratching away in the book.

Alex gulped, noticing something about Baelin. As the evening went on, the darkness deepened in the room, and now and then, Baelin’s eyes caught the receding light and seemed to flash like a cat’s—or Brutus’—in the dark.

They flashed red.

“Ah, it is getting dark in here, is it not?” the chancellor said, and—far from being increasingly exhausted—he seemed to be growing more fascinated and energetic as Alex continued his story. “Here, let me fix that.”

With a snap of his fingers, Baelin conjured a roaring flame in a massive fireplace Alex was half-convinced he’d never seen before. Yet, there it sat in the corner of the office as though it had always been there.

Alex told himself he must have missed it. Then again, the university had moving benches. A fireplace appearing on command in the chancellor’s office would be easy to believe.

“That brings me to another question: why Art of the Wizard in Combat? It would seem that with these… limitations, it would have likely been the worst course in all of Generasi for you to partake in.”

“Oh, no way,” Alex said. “I’m pretty sure that course would be battle magic: spells that directly attack kind of double the Mark’s interference, since it’s both combat and spellcraft.”

Scrtch. Scrtch. Scrtch.

The quill wrote faster.

“I see, but still, the Art of the Wizard in Combat puts you in great danger, and forces you to face foes. Why take it at all?” Baelin frowned. “Was it due to it being ‘the chancellor’s course?’”

“Uh, okay, this is a bit awkward.” Alex scratched his head, his mind suddenly pointing out he hadn’t cut his hair in six months. “So, I actually had no idea you were the chancellor until the assembly where you announced investigating that potion explosion.”

Alex wasn’t sure, but he thought the chancellor looked pleasantly surprised. “I see. Then why?”

“Well, it seemed like the perfect course for me. It would teach me how to fight using all my resources, mind, and ability to adapt to win a fight and defend myself without having to hit anyone. Like… after getting attacked by those monsters in the cave that the dungeon core spawned, and that mana vampire on the ship I took to come here, I figured I could use a course like that since the Mark doesn’t let me just punch or kick my way out of bad situations. Especially if like… I dunno, there’s some kind of interest in keeping it quiet that dungeon cores can be controlled by people.”

The quill continued to write.

“Well, I can certainly say that such a discovery did not exist in Generasi’s past research on dungeon core remains. Likely, if that information were known, our Potions Department and other alchemical divisions would have been clamouring to get to Thameland and source more samples hundreds of years ago. And is this all you found out about it?”

Alex winced. “No… I uh, kinda sorta have been doing some of my own research on the dungeon core remains.”

Baelin’s eyebrows went up. “Truly? On your own?”

“Uh… kind of…” Alex said nervously. He presented Baelin with the notes on his dungeon core analysis. “I’ve had some extra projects for Professor Jules’ class. During some of those, I… did some analysis on the remains.”

“She would not be amused by that,” Baelin said flatly.

“I know, I know,” Alex said. “But… I just… I really thought if I could analyse it, I might be able to come up with something that could help my friends, family and kingdom. But like… with all the stuff I already found out… oh, by Uldar, how do I put this?”

He scrambled for a way on how to phrase it.

“I don’t mean to offend you or anyone at Generasi, but I didn’t know who I could trust. I… maybe you have to be Thameish to understand, but the Ravener is our great enemy. The biggest. We’ve had different wars with different realms in our history, some rebellions, and a really bad civil war, but those are all like… tiny potatoes. Finding out what I did was huge. It would be like finding out demons were originally supposed to be pets for mortals or something. It all seemed impossible. Like all of our history is just wrong on the Ravener and stuff.”

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts again.

“And then, I came here. And I didn’t know if people would say that the Mark would mean I was a danger to the university, or that I was just too hindered by it to succeed at Generasi, and that I should go back to Thameland. I didn’t know who might want the priests to know… but I wanted to get the research done and find a way to present it.”

Alex rose up in his chair and rotated his wrists, continuing to try and get his thoughts out.

“I thought that maybe if I came to you with as much of the analysis that I could do, then maybe you would see more value in it… and I gotta admit, me. There’s also useful properties in it and… yeah.”

“And so, you examined an unknown substance right under the nose of your alchemy professor,” Baelin said, and his words made Alex wince. The chancellor was squinting at the analysis Alex had written in his notebooks.

The floating quill was writing very, very fast now.

“And if I’m not mistaken, the authorities and priesthood of Thameland should still be searching for you?”

“Yes,” Alex said, his mind imagining Baelin suddenly throwing him out of his office for putting the school in danger. “A classmate from Thameland said they were looking for the Fool… it’s why I’ve been avoiding the priests, and I’m very… uh, very glad you keep them off the campus.”

“Truly, that is quite the boon to you.” Baelin nodded, glancing at Alex’s golem notes and the Book of the Traveller with an almost hungry gleam in his eye. “Might I assume those are for me to examine as well?”

“Go right ahead,” Alex said.

The chancellor took both the notes on his golem-crafting process and the Traveller’s book, going over them in detail. For a time, it was like he’d forgotten Alex was even in the room. He silently read both books—at the same time—first giving most of his attention to Alex’s notes on his golem-crafting process, and then turning his attention to the Traveller’s book.

“Well, this is interesting,” Baelin said.

“W-what’s it say?” Alex leaned in, also afire with curiosity.

“That is the interesting part: I haven’t the foggiest clue,” the chancellor gently closed the book.

“Oh,” Alex said, trying to hide his disappointment.

Baelin gave him a pointed look. “I know many languages, Alex. Many, many languages. But this… this I have no experience with. I must say, I have not seen anything similar to it before.” He looked at the book almost like a child that found a new toy. “A member of my cabal might have, but…”

The goatman turned back to Alex, placing his hands on the desk and lacing his fingers together. He’d let go of both books, and they’d neatly closed and stacked themselves near Alex. “Apologies, back to the point. Let me sum up.

“You are a Chosen Hero by your god, meant to combat a menace to your kingdom. Your power gained for this duty is not useful for direct combat with enemies. You uncovered aspects of your history that seemed false, made a discovery about dungeon cores that shook your understanding of your kingdom’s conflict, continued your studies here because—it seems you truly wanted to be here—”

“Absolutely!” Alex nodded vigorously.

“—and you anticipate trouble coming for you due to your role, and so you decided to secretly research and expand on your discoveries. Do I have all of that correct?”

“Yes, that uh, that sums it up,” Alex said. It was a more abridged version of the story he’d told Khalik, but Baelin had neatly summarized the points.

“I see, I see,” Baelin nodded. “Well, I suppose this entire conversation must be making you very nervous. And I congratulate you on your courage in coming to me with this, even if it was caused by recent tragedies. It’s clear you had a lot on your young mind.”

He tapped his fingers on his desk. “Unfortunately, I cannot wave a magic wand and fix all of your problems, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“It’s not,” Alex said. “So… what are you going to do?”

Chapter 53

A Proposition

“Before I speak on that.” Baelin leaned forward in his chair, watching Alex closely. “Who else knows of this?”

“Um, just Khalik, Theresa—her parents—and my sister, Selina. No one else has found out, and the only other person I’ve told is you.”

“Good, very good,” the chancellor said. “Sharing secrets with those you know—and those that you have invested your trust in—is good, but each time you share a secret, you greatly increase the risk that it will be shared again. Do you wish to tell anyone else?”

“Um, Isolde and Thundar are in a cabal with me.”

“Yes, they would deserve to know. I would advise you not to share it beyond that.”

“I… Okay, but, am I going to be kicked out?”

“Oh my, no,” Baelin said. “Absolutely not. You are not going to be ‘kicked out,’ I am not going to return you to Thameland against your will, and I am not going to sanction you.”

“But… what about danger because of my Mark?”

“I will be blunt, if I had discovered this after some dire consequence had occurred—such as an attack on the school—we would be partaking in a very different conversation, Alex. But you came to me with this by your own will. It is, in a sense, unfortunate you did not feel that you could trust me or other members of the staff with this knowledge earlier, but it is also understandable. You are also not the first to study at Generasi with secrets chasing them.”

“Oh?” Alex asked.

“Absolutely not,” Baelin said with a wistful note in his voice. “I have had students come here after fleeing bad marriages. Students that were considered criminals in their homeland for unnatural acts in their pursuit of magic. There obviously will always be those attending who have secrets they will never divulge; everyone’s life is not an open book. I have also had students that were refugees from different planes of existence.” He broke into a nostalgic chuckle. “Three hundred years ago, there was one student who was actually a young dragon that decided to take the form of a human in order to learn about their own natural magic.”

“Oooh man, I wish I had gone to school with them,” Alex said.

“Those were interesting times, but most times are, depending on where you look. The point is, you are far from the first to study at Generasi with dire secrets following in your wake. Besides, wizardry is dangerous. If I sought to make the university completely safe, I would need to board it up, or perhaps dedicate it to the study of gardening… Then again, one can even injure oneself when hauling dirt.” He shrugged. “Now, what might be grounds for punishment would be your smuggling this dungeon core substance into a school lab and experimenting on it without permission.”

Baelin pointed to Alex’s notebook. “As a matter of fact, the only reason why I am not writing a note to myself to call Vernia—”

It took Alex a moment to remember that was Professor Jules’ first name.

“—first thing in the morning is because I see from your notes you were methodical, used safety equipment and did not engage in any analysis that would likely trigger dangerous reactions. You did break procedures, but you did so—oddly enough—in a safe manner. But let me be clear, Alex.”

A note of iron entered his voice.

“You did, in fact, betray your professor’s trust. You earned her trust through your responsible actions, and then you betrayed it by going behind her back.”

Alex winced. “Y-yeah.”

Guilt tore at him. He liked Professor Jules. A lot. He still didn’t trust her on the same level as he trusted Baelin—though she was in second place out of all the professors he’d had—but he hadn’t quite contextualized what he’d done in her lab as going against her trust until now. He’d just been utterly focused on trying to uncover the dungeon core’s secrets in a way that didn’t risk exposing himself or his loved ones.

“Ugh, now I feel a bit gross,” he said, looking down.

“I can understand the desperation that lay in those actions, and I also understand that—while you are a grown adult—you are a young adult. You also have had quite the responsibility placed upon you by your… deity, and have tried to do what you could. I think that—in that light—I can understand why you did what you did.”

Baelin sighed. “And I will admit, a lot of advances in wizardry are the result of a researcher flaunting safety and assuming risk. Especially in the past. And let us just say that when one produces results, others are less likely to find fault with them, as long as the data they have generated can be trusted. In many places in the world, wizards still raid each other’s towers with small armies of summoned minions, constructs, and mercenaries to kill a rival and take their research or discoveries.”

He shook his head. “If the conqueror then expands on those discoveries and shares them with other wizards, there usually are not many crying for them to face justice. They’re actually often looked upon as Heroes.”

A note of steel entered his voice. “We wizards can be terrible sometimes, but let us return to you. Let me be quite clear: all of your sneaking around laboratories ends. Immediately. You will swear to me here and now that you will never again use school equipment and lab space to engage in such activities without permission. Free research is for when you have demonstrated skill and sense, or for when you possess your own laboratory to potentially blow yourself up in. Preferably away from others. If I so much as catch a whiff that you are acting on your own in my school, then the punishment will be dire. Am I understood?”

The chancellor hadn’t raised his voice or made a single aggressive movement, but Alex squirmed in his chair. “Yeah, I won’t. And… I’m sorry, I was just… well, I was trying to do my best.”

“You were. And now you have been shown your mistakes. And now you will do better.”

“Yeah, got it,” Alex said, though part of him was a little disappointed he couldn’t complete his analysis. “Does that mean you want the notes and the dungeon core remains?”

“What? Oh my, no, I am no thief… anymore.” He laughed. “Ah, I come from very different times. The dungeon core remains and this research are—as far as I can tell—your private property. I could ask for reimbursement for the tiny amount of solvent and the moss you used in your analysis, but those few gold pieces the school would receive would just be petty for me to demand. Keep what you have. If anything…”

He took up Alex’s notebook again, flipping through it. “Make sure you do not lose it. Are you sure these are the correct results from your analysis?” He squinted. “I see all the calculations are correct, but is this truly what you discovered about the dungeon core? No lies? No attempting to inflate results?”

“No,” Alex said. “I might have done it secretly, but I did do it properly.”

“Then you may be on the cusp of a very, very important discovery, one definitely not seen in previous research,” Baelin said. “Most of the devices you used for your analysis simply did not exist the last time dungeon cores were examined here in Generasi. Are you curious as to what those studies found?”

“Absolutely.” Alex’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward.

“The research indicated the dungeon core was composed of several different mana compounds and had high mana conductivity—though not anywhere near as precisely indicated here. The researchers of the time suffered due to the equipment available in their day. There is a book deep in the library—one of the floors that contain sixth-tier spells—on the topic of how magical items can be crafted from dungeon core remains… but the aspect of the dungeon core that is similar to chaos essence was undiscovered, nor was the sheer level of mana conductivity it is capable of.”

He shook his head, stroking his beard. “Vernia would be salivating over this. It could catapult golem-craft forward by two hundred years or more. Not to mention the other items that could be made from this substance. Rather than simply infusing the substance to create items that hold magic, if it was used for more complex devices, my goodness. It seems to me alchemy in general could advance greatly with this material, and other disciplines of wizardry would most certainly follow.”

A note of excitement had entered his voice, one that Alex found contagious.

“And the fact that few know of this substance is… fortuitous. Your Heroes have been battling the Ravener for some time. It would not be far-fetched to say that dungeon core remains could have made their way to Generasi by any number of means…”

He tapped his fingers on the notebook. “This… this will require further investigation, perhaps even…”

His eyes shot to Alex.

“I will admit, if you had come to me with this six months ago, I likely would have taken this far less seriously. But you know what you’re doing, and your Mark of the Fool—how poorly named, my goodness, Uldar—seemed to have helped you gain the skill to complete this analysis. We get half-cocked students claiming they have discovered ‘the next leap forward in magic’ too often to count, but this is backed by good, hard work.”

“Um, thank you,” Alex said with sincerity.

“You’re welcome. Now.” Baelin leaned forward. “Do you want to continue down this road of discovery? You could leave the remains with me and be compensated for them. What you have generated is interesting enough for me to pursue myself, or even if I chose to step away, I could think of at least three professors who would be interested in pursuing the potentials in this discovery. You could be free of this, and continue studying in anonymity. But I shall argue that it would be in your best interest to go with another option.”

He tapped the book. “I propose I take point on the research, and you and I work together. Depending on what is discovered in the future—if you choose to disregard anonymity—then you could place your name on any resulting paper that is published. This could lead to scholarships, research grants and more. If this yields the sort of fruit I anticipate it will, then you will have a guaranteed future at Generasi, provided you continue performing as you do… and no longer go renegade with school materials.”

Alex considered his options.

In a way, the first option was tempting. He could at last get what he’d first wanted when he’d received the Mark: complete anonymity and the ability to study as just another student of wizardry at Generasi.

Yet he was finding the very idea of that distasteful. He wanted to continue along the path he started down—especially if Baelin would be accompanying him and greatly increasing his own safety. Ignoring the dungeon cores’ mysteries now would not solve his other problems.

There was still the question of previous Fools to consider—why there had been no record of them being useful—and if he walked away from research into the dungeon cores, the Ravener, and the past, then he’d be forgoing potential information that could help him figure out what was going on with his Mark.

Besides, he was still one of Thameland’s Heroes: even if he hid away from all research into his kingdom’s great enemy, that didn’t mean he would be out of danger. It just meant he might have less information to see it coming.

“I’d like to walk with you on this, Baelin,” Alex said. “I want to finish this. It’s just… I just want to make sure my sister and my friend are safe. …And my cabal too.”

Baelin laughed darkly. “I cannot guarantee safety, Alex. No one can. If I could, then there would never be any unwanted incidents at Generasi ever again. But I do believe you will be safer working with me.”

“Then, I’m all in,” Alex said enthusiastically. “If this is going to help my kingdom, me, my family and Generasi, then I want to walk the walk.”

“Eeeexcellent!” Baelin grinned widely. “Ah, here I was thinking this conversation would be one more issue to deal with, and instead, I find you come with a new path of wizardry to explore. How good it is that I came back to my office!”

He waved a hand in the air, conjuring a key made of shining silver metal. “I keep a few laboratories, including some on campus for students under my… personal guidance. I propose we use one to continue this work together and—when I am needed elsewhere—for you to continue to work on the project. I shall give you a key of your own later—on the express condition that you report to me everything you will be using that laboratory for, and make detailed reports—as detailed as in these—” He indicated Alex’s two notebooks. “—about your activities. I have magical aids in the Cell that can provide both you and myself with safety and aid if needed.”

“What? Really?” Alex asked.

“Indeed. We will walk this road together, but again: I am no supervising grad student that you can slip past. If you go beyond what I have given permission for? I will know.”

“Y-yeah. I’m sure you will… and uh, for what it’s worth, things are a bit different now. Like, a lot less desperate. I don’t think I’ll go behind your back and behind Professor Jules’ back again. I know those words might not mean much considering what I did, but… I won’t. Not again.”

Baelin stared at him for a time, seeming again to look right through him—Alex might get used to that gaze eventually, but this would not be the day. “Hm, I believe you are sincere. I will tell Professor Jules that we shall be working together on a project in alchemy. It might help you in her class as well.”

A stab of guilt went through Alex. “Will you tell her that I was analysing the dungeon core?”

Baelin shook his head. “Nothing ill came of it, so I will leave that decision to you. It is your act and you are an adult. If you choose to share one day you can… but know that she will likely be very displeased with you.”

Alex gulped. “I understand.”

He filed the secret away, storing it deep in his mind like the memory of the time he’d gotten away with stealing cookies from his mother’s kitchen when she’d thought his father had simply taken a few.

Still, he might tell Professor Jules later. A lot later.

Like maybe when he was forty or fifty years old.

For now, he’d just have to focus on making it up to her by being really, really dedicated to procedure for the rest of the time he was with her. Maybe do something for her and the grad students by the end of the year as well.

He shook those thoughts from his mind.

Something else was occurring to him. The golem. He’d been looking for a way to power it and now the most powerful wizard in Generasi was going to work with him.

“Baelin, um, that golem design,” Alex said. “Would it be possible if you might… y’know, kinda help me power it up for the first time. I figure the mana it would take would be something like… five minutes of mana production for someone like you.”

“Hm…” Baelin flipped open Alex’s notes on the golem once more. “Hm, hm, hm. I am afraid I shall not help you in that regard.”

Alex gulped. Would he stop him from building the golem? Was he going to say it would be too dangerous? Too beyond his ability? Would he make him take the substance out of his calculations? He wouldn’t need to use all of it for the golem core… so, now what?

Baelin held up a hand as though to calm Alex’s thoughts. “Fear not, I do not refuse in order to stop you. I refuse in order to aid your learning.”

Chapter 54

Allies

“My learning?” Alex asked.

“To be blunt: I think if I were to help you power it now, that would rob you of some incredibly valuable learning.” Baelin flipped the pages of the golem crafting notebook to Alex’s diagrams. “See this? This is advanced work. I am sure this Mark helped guide you on the path to create this construction-plan—from how you described it—but there is some real creativity here. You made certain, rather creative choices for the construction of this construct, and were able to come up with a plan to bring that vision into reality. That implies interest, passion and talent. I would like you to see this through to the end.”

“Oh, uh… I haven’t found a way to power it yet,” Alex said.

“I can think of several ways, though they are unconventional, so I do believe you will. Whatever means you find and utilize, you will be able to carry that learning with you for all your years. Continue walking the path you are on, and I have no doubt you will find success.”

Alex sighed, a little disappointed, yet also a little proud of the progress he’d already made. “Alright, I’ll do my best.”

“It is all that anyone can ask. Now, might I see the dungeon core remains?” the chancellor asked.

“Yes, absolutely!” Alex handed them over, watching as the goatman carefully opened the sack and examined the contents. “Before you use any of this for anything, we will re-conduct these analyses and see where they lead us. If we confirm your results, then I think if you construct a golem with the substance, it will provide another excellent opportunity for more data.”

“Awesome, that’s awesome.”

“Hmmm, there is also the matter of your Mark… You do realize that some individuals would say its use would constitute cheating, do you not?”

A chill struck Alex right to his bones.

“Fortunately for you, I am not one of them.” Baelin chuckled. “The Mark was placed on you, and you had no choice in the matter. You had already proven you had quite the necessary proficiency for study at Generasi before you received this Mark, and lastly, there are many different peoples with many different talents and natural abilities that attend here. This Mark gives you certain advantages, but then again, your sister—if she chooses to walk the path of wizardry—will have incredible advantages over other students in fire magic courses due to her inborn affinity. Should that be considered cheating? I think not. But in spite of that, I think you should keep this information between you, I and those you trust dearly.”

Alex nodded. “I’m going to tell my cabal-mates too.”

“Very good. Very much like a Proper Wizard would. Alright, so with that in mind, I do believe it is time for both of us to retire for the evening.”

Suddenly, Baelin chuckled.

“What’s funny?” Alex asked, smiling nervously.

“Your revelations are somewhat of a surprise,” Baelin said, his tone unreadable. “I had thought there was something going on with you, Alex, but I must admit, this was the least likely of my guesses, and one I had quite nearly ruled out.”

“Wh-what did you guess?”

“My first theory was that you received some sort of spell from an ancient relation from a bygone era. Some intergenerational magic that imparts their knowledge into one of their descendants. It is not unheard of. I also considered you might have encountered some magical phenomenon you did not understand that had left its imprint on you, or that you had an affinity that we perhaps did not understand as yet. I had briefly considered the Mark of the Fool since they had gone missing, but dismissed the very notion because of your skill with spellcasting.”

His chuckle burst into a full deep laugh. “Perhaps I am the one that should be called the Fool!”

“I’m pretty sure everyone would be too scared to say that to you. I know I am. Also, anyone stupid enough to say that to you would probably be very, very, very, super, unbelievably-extra dead with a side of potatoes.”

Baelin snorted. “Perhaps five hundred years ago, yes. Now, I am far more mellow in my dotage.”

Alex shuddered at even thinking about being that old. That was nearly thirty times his age. It didn’t even sound like Baelin was referring to five hundred years ago as a time when he’d been young. “Uh… how old are you, Baelin?”

“That’s not a very polite question to ask the elderly, Alex. It makes us feel old,” Baelin said. “Also, I am afraid I cannot give you an answer. When I was born, ‘writing’ was not really much of a thing, and things like the exact march of days, months and years were not so important. The only thing that mattered was whether the snows would drive south into our hunting grounds or not. As such, I do not know.”

“I… I’m not even sure if I know what that means,” Alex said.

“I do not expect you to. Suffice it to say, I am unnaturally old. That is all that matters, in the end.”

“Right. Oh, just one final thing… did you want to see the Mark?” Alex asked.

“Would it require that you remove your shirt?”

“Uh, kinda… yeah.”

“Then not now. I would, however, like to examine it at a later time and see exactly what I can make of… your god’s ‘gift’ to you.”

“Okay, then!” Alex rose, gathering his notebooks and the dungeon core remains, relief washing through him.

He’d done it. After all this time, he’d actually done it.

“So? How was that? As you imagined?” the chancellor asked as he stood up from behind his desk.

“Uh, no, I kept imagining all kinds of bad stuff happening. I thought it’d be a lot worse,” he said honestly.

“Well, then, there’s some weight off of you. I will call you to my office again soon,” Baelin said. “Then we’ll get this more organized. In the meanwhile, I’ll search the library and see what I can find on the Marks and anything about the Ravener, Uldar, and Thameland that might be recorded there. I do fear that with the death of Minervus, though, it will be some time before I can do this. You understand.”

“I’m just thankful we can do this at all, Baelin.”

“Of course, of course, now…” He looked at the firelight for a moment. The light of the flame flickered across his eyes and shining golden beard clasps. “In light of the Mark… are you still comfortable participating in the xyrthak combat class?”

“Absolutely. I want to take a crack at it. If I run away from it now, that’s just going to leave me less prepared if I have to face something like that in the future.”

“Spoken like a Proper Wizard.” Baelin opened the door to the hall. “Very well. I shall see you in class, then. I look forward to seeing what this research will generate. The door will shut itself after you exit.”

“Thanks a lot, Baelin.”

As the door was slowly closed, he found the chancellor had already conjured an illusion of a map that he was examining.

It took Alex a few moments to realize it was a map of Thameland.

He was still wondering about that as the door closed.

As his footsteps echoed through the hall, he thought about what just happened and also what lay ahead.

In a single conversation, his life had changed again. Now—more than just emotional support—and friendship, he actually had an ally against the Ravener. A powerful one too.

Then again, he supposed it wasn’t really an ally against the Ravener, per se.

Baelin never talked about wanting to help Thameland or defeat the Ravener: he’d only talked about the potential advancement to magic that could come from their research into dungeon cores. He’d offered to help Alex specifically, but he’d also said if Alex had come to him without the results, his reaction might have been different.

In a sense, they were allies because of the potential for a new road to open for wizardry, as opposed to any great moral cause. To Alex, that was good enough. It would have been a bit too much to hope that Baelin would suddenly get up and lead a one-wizard campaign of destruction against the Ravener. If he could even fight it one-on-one.

‘I wonder who would win in a fight between Baelin and the Heroes?’ Alex wondered. ‘He’s really powerful, but so are the Heroes. Cedric single-handedly demolished all those silence-spiders with no problem, and he’s probably even stronger now that he’s had more experience fighting the Ravener’s monsters. Plus, there’s four of them…’

He steps slowed to a stop.

Allies.

He pushed aside all daydreams of immortal wizards locked in a death battle against divinely-marked Heroes.

Now, it was time to tell his allies his secrets.

Alex swallowed. He hoped it would go well. He really liked his cabal-mates, and it would be awful if they thought less of him.

In any case, he was sure Thundar and Isolde would at least find it a big deal.

“What’s the big deal?” Thundar asked, sipping some milk out of a green coconut with the top cut off. “That sucks, I guess?”

Alex raised both brows.

He and the minotaur were sitting in a copse of trees away from prying eyes and ears. Alex had just unloaded all of his secrets and was prepared for the minotaur’s judgement.

“I-it is a big deal!” He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and prepared to launch into an explanation. “The history of the Heroes is a huge—”

Alex re-explained the role of the Heroes in Thameland, and everything he discovered.

Thundar nodded along.

“Look… it’s like a tattoo?” The minotaur scratched his fur. “It’s a tattoo that makes you good at some stuff and bad at others?”

“No, it’s—” Alex started, but words failed him. “You see, the thing about that is—” He tried again and stopped, sighing. “Okay, so maybe that’s exactly what it is!” Alex said, a bit frustrated. “But like… with danger and priests and monsters and… stuff! It’s a big deal!”

Thundar shrugged. “I get it. It sounds real tough and I’m glad you told me, but if monsters come, we kill ’em. If priests come, we’ll beat ’em up. That’s what a cabal is, right? It’s simple. Only thing this tells me is that I’ll be going to you for all tutoring from now on.”

“I… bu—”

“Look, I got this uncle, right?” Thundar held up a hand and made a swiping motion across his wrist. “Deadliest guy with a bow in the entire tribe. Horrifying. Then one day, a forest drake bites his hand off. So, he gored it to death with his horns, then had the crafters make him a hook out of its bones. Wasn’t as good with a longbow anymore—but he could still hit a bullseye well enough from close—so he got it into his head to train with the war-axe, and strap a shield to the hook-hand instead. Now, he’s the deadliest guy with an axe in the entire tribe. You kick ass in combat class, and that’s the most important part to me…”

Thundar leaned in. “Now… about that tutoring.”

Alex gaped at the minotaur.

‘Okay, okay so… that’s different. I guess he doesn’t care, but he doesn’t understand the full context, that’s all!’ Alex nodded to himself while Thundar looked at him like he was crazy. ‘Isolde… now she’s going to find it a big deal. She’s so proper, I’ll need to be careful with her. She won’t see it the same way Thundar does.’

“I see,” Isolde said, nodding in a proper manner.

They were seated on a bench on a hill overlooking the sea. As with Thundar, they were all alone. From the gazebo they were seated under, they saw not a soul.

Silence grew between them as he watched her.

There was no hint of shock or disappointment. Just a thoughtful arch to one sculpted eyebrow.

“That’s all?” Alex demanded.

She frowned. “Are you… angry?”

“N-no. It’s just… I had built up this whoooole thing in my head and it was a big deal… really? ‘I see.’ That’s it?”

“No. I have a few questions.”

“Oh, thank the Traveller, what’s up?”

“What are the limitations to your spellcraft exactly, what can and can you not do? Will you be defenceless in a time of combat?” she asked.

“No. I’ve learned ways to hinder opponents and even do some damage to them if I’m clever about it. I’ve learned ways to defend myself just fine. I’ve also got ways to support a group when trouble comes.”

“I see, that is perfect then.” She sighed, seeming to relax somewhat. “I should say that it… irritates me a little that this Mark has aided you so much in your studies. It almost makes me wish I had such a boon. At least the part that helps, not the part that hinders. Look how it will allow you to work closely with Baelin.” Her jaw clenched for a moment. “You said this Mark uses your own memories to enhance your learning, not impart knowledge to you?”

“Yeah, it points out what I did right so I can focus on that, but I have to actually practice and study for that to help me.”

“I see, so you still need to put in work. Now I know your performance is due to your efforts and intelligence, but also has been aided by this Mark. Just as I have been aided by my grandfather’s teaching and my upbringing. It means you didn’t just trounce me on pure talent, and that, in a sense, is a relief.”

‘Thaaaaat’s what you’re focused on?’ Alex thought.

“But what about the death and horrible monsters… and stuff?” he demanded.

“If I feared such things, I would make for a poor court wizard in the empire. When we agreed to form a cabal, we agreed to join together for mutual protection. I do not recall our oaths ending at: ‘if one of us actually encounters trouble.’ I am no coward, Alex. I would not be in Baelin’s class if I were.”

She gave him a pointed look. “And besides, we have agreed to extend our cabal to the end of the school year, and so I shall watch and see how things are. Also, I expect that when I encounter danger, that you shall aid me as well?”

“Yeah, of course,” Alex said.

She gave a rare smile. “Then there is no issue. Thank you for trusting me with this secret, and for not waiting until some horrible circumstance revealed it and utterly destroyed any trust between all of us.”

‘Well… it was a horrible circumstance for Minervus,’ his mind dryly noted.

“I do wish you told me of this information earlier, as there could be potential dangers, but your homeland is far, as are those dangers. Again, I see little reason to panic like a frightened child. Admittedly, had you told me earlier in the year, I might have judged you more harshly, as I would not have had the opportunity to see your capability first-hand. I suppose things worked out for the best.”

Alex was twitching.

On a logical level, just because things had worked out with telling Baelin and the rest of the cabal, didn’t mean they would have worked out if he’d told them earlier. They themselves said the reason they’d accepted things so readily was because they’d come to know him. If he had opened up with telling them all about the Mark, it seemed it might have gone very differently.

On an emotional level, though, he felt like screaming.

All the secrecy and agonizing, and trouble, just for things to turn out okay? How dare his friends be so supportive! Where was the disaster he’d been imagining in his mind for the past six months?

Why wasn’t he in chains, being dragged back to Thameland!

“Er, Alex, are you okay?” Isolde raised an eyebrow. “You have been… twitching, strangely, for a while now.” She paused as though in realization, and then leaned in. “Is it because of the Mark? Is it working right now?”

Alex barely resisted the urge to jump up from the bench and throw himself into the sea.

Alex cracked his knuckles as he and Selina stood side by side in their workshop.

In front of them lay the golem parts they’d completed: the head, the torso, the right leg and pelvis, and its four arms.

Only the left leg wasn’t finished, and that was nearly complete as well. Later, Khalik would come by to help fuse the limbs to the torso.

“Well, little goblin,” Alex said. “This is it. This is when we finally finish putting together the golem’s body.”

“I’m so excited,” Selina said, barely able to keep herself from jumping up and down in anticipation.

Alex smiled. The next step after the body would be working with Baelin to finish analysing the dungeon core’s remains. Then—if all turned out well—he would create the golem core. Things were changing.

It was all coming together, but those weren’t the only big events coming up.

The semester was flying by, and soon it would be time for his class to confront the xyrthak in its lair within the Barrens.

Chapter 55

Forging a Body and Plan

“Ooooh, careful with that part,” Alex said to Selina as they worked on sculpting the massive foot on the golem’s left leg. “If we sculpt too much filigree in this area, then the foot could get caught on stuff when it’s walking.”

“Hm, that makes sense,” Selina said, reshaping some of what she’d shaped.

Alex smiled at her progress. With all the work he’d put in with the Mark, he’d become a talented sculptor in these past few months, and teaching Selina what he’d learned—along with her natural talent—allowed her skill to grow right along with his. He was immensely proud of his little sister.

They continued carving the leg and a silence fell over them, one tinged by a bit of sadness. In a way, he didn’t want the sculpting process to end. It had been the longest project he and Selina had ever worked on together with such focus and—as much fun as he had teasing her—he dearly loved spending time with the little goblin.

He’d miss not having the project for just the two of them to share, even though he was still really excited at the idea of the golem’s body being completed.

A glance at Selina showed she was also looking a little sad as they sculpted toward each other, until at last, they finished putting the finishing touches on the leg. Together, brother and sister stepped back to look down on their handiwork.

“We’re done,” Selina said in amazement.

“Hold on, let me check.” Alex retrieved a measuring snake construct from the worktable and it began to circle the leg, taking measurements and comparing them with the golem’s other leg, and the two sections of the pelvis where the legs attached.

He’d been using the Mark continually, checking to see if the arms and legs were symmetrical—and though it guided him with mathematical precision—he still did a check whenever they finished each stage.

“Alright, we’ve got it,” he said after the measurements were confirmed. He raised his hand.

Selina rushed over and—Slap!—put everything she had into their high-five.

“I can’t wait to see it standing up,” Alex said.

“Then why keep waiting?” Thundar’s voice came from behind them.

Alex turned. Khalik—the massive Najyah perched on the prince’s arm—Thundar, Isolde and Theresa, with Brutus close behind, were piling into the room.

Alex noticed Najyah was blind-folded. “What happened there?”

Khalik made a face. “This overgrown chicken thought to hide and play dead again, but my ability to trace her mana and our connection is much stronger than it has ever been. She is being punished for her tricks…”

Najyah made a loud, mournful cry.

“…and she sulks now,” he said.

“Hah!” Alex laughed. “And what about the rest of you?”

“You told us of this monstrosity, and Khalik said he was to help you finish fusing its parts into a whole. How could we not see for ourselves?” Isolde assessed it. “Hm, a ferocious design. And quite large too.”

“Yeah! It’ll smash everything!” Selina cried giddily.

“Ah,” Isolde nodded, smiling warmly. “The excitement of childre—”

“Yeah! It will smash everything!” Alex also cried giddily.

The words died on Isolde’s lips and she just shook her head. She gave Theresa a pointed, questioning look and the other young woman just shrugged her shoulders.

“I couldn’t keep any of these guys away even if you wanted me to, Alex,” Theresa said, smiling as Brutus bounded over to sniff the golem curiously, and Thundar walked over to… sniff the golem curiously.

“Hoo boy, wish we had this basher when we were fighting the earth elemental,” Thundar said. “And that it was finished in time for the xyrthak. I’d like to see that big, overgrown flying bird-lizard try and mess with us with one of those fists in its beak; or a boulder thrown by one.”

Alex designed the arms to be thick and the fists absolutely massive. He was sure even a xyrthak would be feeling a punch from this thing for days. “Well, unfortunately, the golem won’t be ready, but I’m sure we’ll be okay if we work out a good plan with the rest of the class.”

“I have no doubt,” Khalik said confidently. “Now come, let us get this finished.”

Using his Lesser Heat spell, Alex heated the golem’s left leg to dry it faster, then he and Khalik lifted the limb and moved it into place beside the golem’s pelvis. With Thundar helping, they positioned the golem parts on a giant floating dolly cart: it could tilt upright by command and support enormous objects, much like Alex’s golem.

Once they’d finished that step, Khalik applied the Shape Earth spell he’d learned in his earth elemental magic class, and—under Alex’s guidance and Selina’s encouragement—he fused the legs to the body.

Excitement tinged the air.

Isolde, Theresa and Thundar leaned in with anticipation.

The right arms were attached next.

Then the left arms.

Finally, they fused the head and neck to the shoulders.

With a spoken command from an excited Selina—Alex had given her the honour of instructing the enchanted dolly to bring the golem to the standing position for the first time—the magical, giant dolly slowly rose to a vertical position until the golem was upright before them.

It was, in one word, impressive: ten feet of clay ready to be powered by mana. Its body was like a massive, armoured warrior with four arms of colossal proportions, and hands that could easily palm Thundar’s head. Its face was almost a mirror of the ferocious, fanged goddesses from the Traveller’s Sanctum.

The only difference was that its sculpted teeth were the image of Grimloch’s shark teeth instead of the needle-like fangs of the goddesses, and its head was covered with a far larger, more intimidating helm.

It looked every inch an unstoppable juggernaut.

“Yeeeessss,” Thundar said excitedly. “Now order it to crush Khalik!”

“Hey!” The prince glared at him.

“Fine, fine… crushing Isolde would be easier anyway,” the minotaur sneered.

“A fair point,” Isolde said. “But certainly crushing the largest of us would be a better test of the golem’s capabilities, therefore Thundar would be far more suitable to—”

“Ooooh, you traitor!” Thundar snorted.

Isolde sputtered. “How is that treachery? You were trying to crush me and Khalik!”

“And as the rightful leader of the cabal—”

“Oh, by the elements.” She buried her face in her hands.

“—it is my right to say that my subordinates should be the test subjects of the war golem that’s going to add to our deadliness!”

Thmp.

Thundar looked down to see that Khalik was stepping on his hoof. “Heh, try again, you jer—Argh!”

He yelled as the prince delivered a swift kick to his shin.

“You shi—”

Alex cleared his throat, nodding toward Selina, who was innocently gazing up at Thundar in amusement. The minotaur fell into a stewing silence.

“So, while that was hilarious,” Alex said, “the golem can’t crush anybody until its golem core is completed and it’s all powered up. Can’t wait for that, though.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about golem core stuff,” Theresa said. “But I do know both you and Selina did an amazing job. I don’t think I’d ever want to fight this thing.”

“Thanks!” Selina grinned. “It’ll protect all of us. But I can’t think of a good name.” Her face soured like a small, frustrated raisin.

‘Well, less small than it used to be,’ Alex thought.

Selina was starting to enter a growth spurt. He, Theresa and Selina recently paid a visit to the school seamstress’ enchanted emporium for new clothes for her. Some of the baby fat had disappeared from her face—though her brother’s baking still kept plenty on—and she seemed to be standing a little taller every day.

Early in the summer, just after second semester ended, she would turn eleven. He frowned. She still hadn’t said much about herself and wizardry, or if she wanted anything to do with it.

A decision would have to be made soon. She would need to be enrolled in the program for next year that began magical training for youngsters at the junior school who were interested. Of course, she could wait longer if she wanted to, but—if she did want to become a wizard—an early start on education in the magical arts would be advantageous.

It had really benefited Isolde and Khalik, from what they had said.

“When will you construct the golem core?” Isolde asked, going behind the golem and squinting at the hole for the core in its back. “I… have some awareness of how this is supposed to go.”

“Oh, I’m hoping to do it soon, but it depends on how quickly Baelin and I go over the analysis of the other core again,” Alex said, lowering his voice. “We’ll have to confirm everything, then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Right,” Thundar said. “Still can’t believe that thing makes monsters—you said it was the size of your head?” He shook his head. “That’s crazy. There’s all kinds of things in the world.”

“And speaking of monsters,” Khalik said. “Any more thoughts on the xyrthak? The time is coming soon.”

“I had a couple,” Isolde said. “I was speaking with Shiani and Rhea—delightful people—and we thought that since the creature’s vision is poor from close range, we could do well by creating a screen of smoke. Both know spells that create more smoke than flame, and that will trouble the beast. As for myself—lightning can seize the musculature, which can interfere with flight. I think that would be a boon against the creature.”

“Mhm,” Khalik nodded. “Thundar?”

“Agh, I talked with Grimloch, Malcolm and Eyvinder. Malcolm said he might be able to ice its wings, but that’s a lot of area to freeze and he’d need time to do it. Eyvinder can move earth, but we’d need to lure the beast closer to the ground for him to really do his work. And Grimloch.”

The minotaur pulled his lips back from his teeth, and deepened his voice to mimic the giant shark man. “Gimme a boulder to smash it down, and then gimme a plate to eat it off of.”

“Oh wow, that’s cool,” Theresa said admiringly. “I wonder if… no, never mind.”

Everyone turned toward her.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

“Well… I guess he didn’t swear me to secrecy or anything.”

“Hmm?” Khalik asked.

“The other day, Grimloch came around and uh… well, he asked me if I could tell him anything about life enforcement. Maybe show him how to start it.”

Everyone froze.

“Oh, that is cheating!” Alex cried enthusiastically. “That is so cheating! Can you do it?”

“Well.” Theresa frowned. “I don’t know… I wanted to ask my professor about it before I said yes since I’m just learning, but I dunno, I’ve never really taught it to anyone before.”

“Hey, you guided me through that thing the other day,” Alex said. “And you taught me about meditation.”

“Wait, you know meditation stuff?” Thundar asked. “I’m into something similarish, and listen, there’s this instructor, and if I got a lot better at it, then—Ah, maybe we can talk later?” He gave Alex a shifty look when his friend’s face broke into a sly grin.

“I got faith you could do it.” Alex added to Theresa, “Do you want to teach him?”

Theresa blushed a little. “Kind of… yeah. I think it’d be cool, plus like… I’m so much stronger and just… everything since I started life enforcement. Could you imagine what he would be like?”

“That is a lot of life to enforce,” Khalik said. “And if he could start down that path before the xyrthak—”

“If he can,” Theresa said. “We’ve had more students drop out and a lot failed when they tried their path of life enforcement at the beginning of semester two. And I have no idea if I’m the right person to help him.”

“Yes, if he can. That would be a great help,” Khalik said. “What about you, Alex?”

“Well, I had a chat with Caramiyus and Angelar,” he said. “Rayne too… even though he’s a little freaked out by what happened to Minervus. I can’t believe they still haven’t caught the damn thing.”

“It is why the city fears such creatures so much.” Khalik sighed. “But they have been caught before, and someone will eventually destroy it and collect the bounty.”

“Yeah, two thousand gold now, when you add in what Minervus’ family put up. Anyway, Rayne doesn’t want to be the only one flying when the xyrthak comes for us, but I could make a few Potions of Flight. I’ve got a free lab in Jules’ extra lab sessions that I can use to make anything I’ve made so far. I’m thinking of churning out as many Potions of Running Enhancement, Flight and Haste as I can. There’s a few ways I can turn a Potion of Flight into an aggressive solution too, plus, if I’ve got my forceballs up there moving around, that’ll mix things up and make more targets to confuse the xyrthak.”

“Right,” Khalik said. “And some of my earth spells could impede its wings, especially when combined with Malcolm’s ice magic. Alright, well, it looks like we have a plan forming. We can coordinate all our resources with the others and see what we can do.” He shook his head. “No solution for its cry, though. That is troubling. We will need it close enough to have an effect on it, but not so close that its cry can ruin our mana.”

“That’s where I might help,” Theresa said. “My bow’s draw strength is way too low for me now—I could handle one a lot stronger—but it’s still a good Thameish hunting bow: I’ve killed bears with it. But Baelin said the xyrthak’s scales are like plate armour, and after talking to an armourer in the city, I know there’s no way my bow’s getting through plate.”

Her look turned hard. “So I think I’ll head into town to get a stronger one before we hunt it. If I can get a few shots into it—into the softer parts around its long neck or its wings—with some good heavy steel broad-heads, I might be able to wound it at a range, or at least close enough—yet still far enough away from all you wizards—that it won’t be able to use its cry on you.”

“Hey, here’s an idea: something useful from battle magic,” Thundar said. “I know a spell now—Blows of Lead—that enhances the weight and sharpness of weapons on impact. I can only make it last for about three-ish minutes or so, but it should help your arrows punch through.”

“That sounds great,” Theresa said.

“Right then.” Alex nodded. “Then we spend the next while prepping.” He looked up at the golem. “And I need to give you a core.”

Chapter 56

Stealing the Enemy’s Weapon

“Ah, you are early,” Baelin’s voice said from behind him.

“Argh! Oh, holy shi—” Alex startled and whirled around to see the towering chancellor in the hallway. Alex’s force disks—filled with papers, notebooks and more of the dungeon core’s sample—shuddered with him. “Gods, I didn’t hear you behind me at all, Baelin.”

“Hm, a Proper Wizard should be prepared and aware of their surroundings,” the chancellor said, glancing at the window.

They were in one of the tallest towers in the main castle—one free from offices and containing only a few rooms secured by tall doors of a deep, black metal. The amount of magic emanating from each door nearly made Alex’s head spin.

“Well, here it is.” Baelin gestured to one of the doors. “This is the lab where we’ll confirm your findings—or disprove them—and where you shall finish your golem if things prove positive.”

Baelin looked at the gigantic monstrosity floating on the giant magical dolly. “Went for pure power, I see. I approve. I heartily approve! Now, then.”

He snapped his fingers and two keys appeared in his hand, and he offered one to the young man.

“Shall we begin?”

Alex understood this was a laboratory used for Baelin’s students, but it still felt like he was coming into a chamber that had been built for a monarch.

It was enormous. Judging from the dimensions of the room, it seemed too big to actually fit into the rest of the tower.

Unlike the Cells, this laboratory had massive windows overlooking the campus, though Alex had a feeling they were made from something a lot sturdier than glass.

The equipment in the room shone as though it was brand new, and looked far more robust and complex than the versions Alex was used to. Even the mana spectrometer was larger and probably more powerful.

“Most of this equipment is beyond you for now,” Baelin said. “But I shall train you on each piece, which will grant you experience with more advanced mechanisms of alchemy, and also allow me to monitor how quickly your Mark helps you learn. You shall gain skills, as well as provide valuable data for us both.”

“Th-that sounds great,” Alex stammered, gawking at the numerous advanced devices.

‘Look at all the stuff I get to play with!’ he thought excitedly before remembering Baelin’s stern warning. ‘Er, I mean, use in a responsible manner. But I’m gonna have fun anyway while I’m doing it.’

“First things first,” Baelin said, looking at Alex with an amused twinkle in his goat-like eyes. “We will go to each piece of equipment that you previously used in your analysis of the dungeon core. The devices here are more advanced versions, naturally. Then I would like you to repeat exactly what you did in your previous analysis while I observe. We will see if you produce similar results. This equipment is more sensitive, and should readily reveal if there are any anomalies.”

Alex nodded, getting his safety equipment ready and going to wash his hands. “Sounds good. Let’s hope things turn out the same way they did before.”

Baelin showed Alex everything in the laboratory, but the pieces of equipment that really caught his attention were the mana vacuum and its waste container. The container was enormous—dwarfing even the one they used in Shale’s Workshop—Alex could only imagine that the sheer level of power tossed around by reactions generated from experiments in a lab like this would be unbelievable.

A mana vacuum that size would be a necessity.

“You must really like alchemy,” Alex said. “This is like the emperor’s carriage of laboratories.”

Baelin shrugged. “It is not my favourite subject of magic, actually. When I first learned wizardry, there was no such thing as alchemy. Spellcraft was thought to be the language of the spirits. Potions were brewed by way of open fire and little else. I study it, as I study all things in wizardry. In truth, some of my own cabal are far superior in the art.”

“Jeez,” Alex scratched his head. “I can’t even imagine that.”

“Imagine, what?”

“That anybody could be better than you at any kind of wizardry.”

Baelin burst out laughing. “Oh, you flatter me, but you know not what you say. I am mighty, yes. Very mighty. But many things in the cosmos are mighty, and many things have knowledge of magic that I have yet to begin to comprehend.”

“Oh. That actually sounds exciting.”

Baelin raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Alex shrugged. “Like, if you knew everything about magic and there was nothing left to learn and discover, it’d be kind of sad, wouldn’t it? The journey would be over and you couldn’t find anything new. At least you’ve still got more to investigate and learn.”

Baelin gave him a warm smile. “My thoughts exactly. A Proper Wizard never stops learning. If they do, they’re no longer a Proper Wizard. Still, things that surprise us become increasingly rare… and that’s what makes your dungeon core so exciting. Come, let us see what is what.”

With that, Alex jumped into his analysis.

Now that he’d completed it once—and with the Mark guiding him—he was able to go through the processes a lot faster. Having access to better equipment and not having to hide what he was doing also made things go smoother.

In short order he’d run a solid and liquified sample through all the previous devices he’d used, and was amazed at how these machines displayed results.

Not only were there paper readouts, but results were also displayed on floating illusions right above each device in full, three-dimensional detail.

Alex blinked in wonder at the illusions, while Baelin looked on in indifference. As though such a thing was as commonplace as rocks by the side of the road. What did clearly excite him, though, were the results themselves.

Each test continued to confirm what had been determined in the previous analyses, and Alex took abundant notes with increasing excitement.

Baelin then took over, showing Alex new devices that measured the substance’s planar alignment, its vivacity—its ability to produce life or healing effects—and its age.

“Interesting,” Baelin said. “See this diagram, Alex?” He pointed to a circle composed of smaller, multicoloured orbs. “This shows a breakdown of the planes of existence as we know them… an extremely simplified breakdown.”

He pointed to a circle in the middle. “That is where we are, the material plane. And the four surrounding circles are the elemental planes, with the para-elemental planes between. The outer circles are the many outer places, though again, this is simplifying the structure.”

“What does it actually look like?”

“Like a four-dimensional mess of constellations, geometry and swirling masses of power. Even the deities of our world—or any other—can’t fully codify all of the planes.”

“Huh, and what’s that green dot mean?” Alex pointed to a dot that appeared in the central circle.

“That indicates from which plane the substance originates. And this indicates the material plane.” Baelin frowned. “Remarkable, chaos essence and chaos essence-like substances are rare in the material world, and yet your Ravener seems to produce cores made out of the substance… The age test indicates this dungeon core and its substances are only months old. Fascinating.”

Alex nodded. “It makes the material from scratch?”

“Yes. Think of it like carving a piece of furniture, only that you conjured the wood as you built the furniture. This is an incredible fabrication.”

Again, that book and quill appeared, hovering around Baelin’s shoulder and jotting down notes rapidly.

“So… do you think I can use it in my golem core?” Alex asked.

“Absolutely. It would please me greatly to watch and see how it would work.” He gestured to the wall and there was a shimmering in the air.

With a hiss, six humanoid forms manifested that looked to be made of solidified air—only the strange refraction of the light passing through them made their presence known.

“These are my Unseen Aids. They will aid anyone in this lab that has my permission to use it… or harm anyone who is not accompanied by anyone who holds one of the room’s keys, if I so desire. They have no intelligence, but will follow verbal commands and have the ability to perform actions required in alchemy. They can also understand the names of any tool or device in this room.”

“Right, uh…” Alex glanced over the aids. “Um, second-from-the-left.” He pointed to the unseen aid that was, well, second-from-the-left. “Raise your left foot.”

The half-visible construct raised its left foot into the air.

“That is Secundus, actually,” Baelin said. “Now, if you’re quite done playing…”

“Ah, yeah, got it, got it,” Alex said. “Alright, here’s what I need,” he addressed the constructs.

He gave his orders quickly, in the same decisive manner used by Lagor in the golem works. The constructs paused for a moment, then Baelin nodded and they sprang into action.

They set up the main devices Alex would need for the process: a symbol-cauldron, the mana vacuum, and a long handled mana conductor. The cauldron could heat itself with a command word, and Alex did just that while the constructs prepared his ingredients alongside his Wizard’s Hands.

The main ingredient for the golem core would be the dungeon core remains: roughly half of what he had taken from the Cave of the Traveller. It would form the mana generation centre of the core’s structure and shape the connections that would conduct mana to the rest of the core. Its similarity to chaos essence would also grant the golem its ability to evolve, and he would need to work around that.

He had slowly obtained the other ingredients over the past few weeks: pyrite or fool’s gold, which helped a golem mimic life as pyrite mimicked gold; tungsten, which was quite compatible with the flame magic for the fire-gems; the ‘flowers’ of chromium crystal dendrites, an excellent material for helping a golem process instructions and prevent the core from corroding from its own mana, as well as other materials to simply form the bulk of the structure.

One advantage with working at Shale’s was that he was allowed—as an employee—to purchase materials for a golem at a significant discount. The dungeon core’s remains also replaced many of the most expensive ingredients needed for the golem core.

Now would come the real test: combining those ingredients.

He had the constructs grind the dendrite flowers into a fine powder while he poured the pyrite and some of the other ingredients into the cauldron.

First, he would need to create the base for the rest of the ingredients. He commanded the cauldron to increase to very high temperatures and braced for the blast of heat he often experienced when building golem cores at work.

It never came. To his surprise, the fool’s gold began melting into a puddle of shining yellowish metal at the bottom of the cauldron.

He waved his hand over the mouth of the pot in surprise, then looked up at Baelin.

“It conducts all heat directly into the material without blasting it elsewhere,” Baelin said, seated in a comfortable chair several feet away. The chair hadn’t been in the room moments before, and Baelin casually watched Alex through his mask while that floating quill continued to record all the steps of Alex’s process. “A cunning construction by one of my cabal-mates. A very expensive one, as you can imagine.”

Alex nodded, glancing around the room again. He was fairly sure most of the devices in here were extremely expensive.

‘Maybe one day,’ he thought, imagining himself owning a room full of such fine devices before returning to his work.

He began to stir the pyrite into the other ingredients to form the base, taking care to put much of his mana into some of the other ingredients that were more vulnerable to heat. He stabilized them long enough to combine them with the melted pyrite as he stirred, and began to bond them together with his mana.

It was a tricky process that could see a novice very well waste a ton of mana trying to get the ingredients to bind. The Mark and Val’Rok’s classes were invaluable for doing this step, since they taught him much about efficiency when it came to mana manipulation.

He used the Mark as he worked, letting it guide him through the process as it had so many times at Shale’s. Even now it pointed out things he had done correctly and that he should repeat, and he guided the reaction slowly to make sure he was being precise.

Soon, the ingredients began to glow with a golden light, indicating the process was well underway. He nodded in satisfaction. It was ready for other ingredients.

He looked at the black powder of the dungeon core remains and smiled.

It was finally time to turn one of the Ravener’s weapons into his own, and—with Baelin close by to watch for any trouble—he was more than ready.

Chapter 57

The Forging

“Bring that over, Tertium,” Alex said to a construct holding the black dungeon core remains.

He heard the scrape of chair legs behind him followed by the click of Baelin’s cloven hooves moving across the tiles. “And so it has come to this point.” The chancellor leaned over. “Exciting moments to witness. Both the learning of a young mind, and the first application of a potentially magnificent substance. Your golem will prove an excellent proof-of-concept.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “I’m just sorry my friends and Professor Jules can’t see this.”

“Indeed,” Baelin said.

“Hmmm… Say, when we get this research further along, in time… would you be okay if we invited Professor Jules to be part of the team?”

To Alex’s surprise, the chancellor winced. “I do, ah, believe that is an inevitability.”

“Oh?” Alex asked. “What happened when you told her about us working on a project together?”

Baelin sighed, and for a moment, he did not seem like such an ancient, mighty wizard. “Well, first there was her accusation that I poached her student: which, to be fair, I did not. Even if we overlook the fact that you came to me, students can be apprenticed to more than one professor at Generasi.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.

Did… did Baelin sound a little defensive?

“Then of course, she wanted to know everything about the project,” the chancellor continued. “I told her nothing that would reveal your secrets, but I did say we had a potential lead on a new substance, and what that new substance might be able to do. The gleam in her eye, Alex… I suspect wild dragons wouldn’t be able to keep her away.”

Alex chose not to mention the gleam he’d seen in Baelin’s eyes when he’d seen the results of the dungeon core’s analysis.

“That’d be kind of cool, though, if she could be involved.”

“Oh yes, she would be an excellent asset to any research team,” Baelin agreed. “When she comes with her request to join—after she thoroughly interrogates you, no doubt—I will grant it.”

“That’s great… Hey, you know who else might be able to help us?” Alex thought for a moment. “Isolde. She’s great at mana manipulation, and she’s good with spellcraft—better than me, for now, and she’s also good in alchemy. And since she knows everything about this, she’d be a great addition.”

“Aaaaah, looking out for your cabal-mates already, are we?”

“Yeah, I’m not going to lie, if Khalik and Thundar were interested in alchemy, I’d be asking if they could come in on it too.”

“Ah, well, I am sure their knowledge, as well as the trust you have in each other, will still prove its worth in this endeavour. There will be a time—I think—when it will call for far more than alchemy. But I digress: I do believe Isolde would be quite valuable if she would be interested. This will all be moot, however, if you place the sample within the mixture and it blows the lab to particles.”

Alex froze.

“Well, no risk, no reward, as they say. Let us continue our party of discovery like Proper Wizards!” Baelin encouraged him.

An image appeared in Alex’s imagination. One of himself in itty bitty pieces, splattered all over the lab wall. He quickly shook it away and began.

Like he’d done many times in Lagor’s workshop, he stabilized the reaction of the melted ingredients in the cauldron in preparation for the mana-conductive material. He took the dungeon core remains from Tertium and frowned.

In Shale’s, when his team had worked with chaos essence, they had needed to use stabilizing agents and then their mana to keep the material stable while it bound to the other ingredients. The powdered dungeon core remains were already stable, so that part wouldn’t be necessary. This meant the procedure for adding it to the mixture would be slightly different. Alex figured he should still be able to work with it as though it were chaos essence. It was a reasonable assumption, he felt.

With a deep, steadying breath, he added the black dust to the hot mixture.

The reaction was immediate.

The yellow glow flared and a darkness began to mix with it, changing the light into a reddish-gold luminescence. It was so bright, he had to squint to see through his mask’s clear lenses. For a moment, he wondered if there were masks with lenses that could magically transition from clear to dark, to filter extremely bright light. That was something he’d definitely be asking about.

The reaction accelerated rapidly. Since the dungeon core’s remains were similar to chaos essence, having it double as a conductor and—a ridiculously good one at that—meant it reacted even faster and stronger. Alex concentrated, using the Mark and his experience with invading the dungeon core with his mana to help guide the reaction.

As he passed his mana through, it began to grow more and more vigorous, over-stimulating the other ingredients beyond his expectations or experience. He called on the Mark even more, using every ounce of skill he had in mana manipulation to try to keep the reaction contained.

The mana kept threatening to run out of control, bubbling like it would surge up the sides and out of the cauldron, but Alex’s focus held. It was a struggle, the process took far longer than it did to make a typical golem core with Lagor’s team—but with the Mark’s guidance, he was finally able to manage the reaction.

Eventually, the reddish-golden glow dimmed to a level where it was no longer blinding, and he stabilized the reaction. Alex smiled, satisfied at having completed the hardest part. Now for the rest.

He called on Primus—the first of the six constructs—to dump the powdered dendrite flowers into the mixture. As the lab aid added the powder, Alex spread it around, but soon realized he needed to quickly increase the temperature of the mixture to melt the chromium crystals into it.

As soon as the powder melted, it began to act as a stabilizer. Once he had completely guided the reactions to fully bind the ingredients, he killed the cauldron’s heat. His golem core would remain liquid at room temperature until he engaged the final reaction to solidify and crystallize it.

Now it was time to slowly and carefully add the second to last ingredient: tungsten.

Tungsten was a tricky ingredient to work with. It was incredibly difficult to melt without magical fire or heat, and the temperature at which it finally melted was so high, other ingredients it was being mixed with just boiled away by the time it became liquid. It was a very useful ingredient for his purposes, though, and the chromium and mana in the mixture would help keep the whole thing stable. He instructed the cauldron to start heating the materials to their highest temperatures yet.

The intense temperature within the cauldron began to alter the tungsten and it started to melt, blending into the glowing reddish-gold light. Most golem cores had a teal glow, but different ingredients sometimes created different colours. Golem cores with chaos essence would shift in colour as though someone had trapped a rainbow in them, which was what he thought might happen when he decided to use the dungeon core remains for his golem’s core.

Instead, the colour remained the same reddish-gold, except it shimmered like light being shone through shifting water. He made a note of this and underlined it in his notebook while Baelin did the same.

Finally, the reaction stabilized. It would be ready for the last step, the crystallization process, once it had time to settle. Alex instructed the cauldron to kill the heat, and he waited for the glowing substance to cool. At this juncture, it would need a few days to rest.

“And now we play the waiting game,” he said.

“Indeed, and with good timing.” Baelin glanced through the window, noting the position of the sun. “There is a meeting I must attend shortly. We shall meet back here in, shall we say, three evenings and see this finished? You have the time?”

“Ach, I’ve got a shift at Shale’s that evening.”

“I see. Four it is, then. I could use that extra evening to check in with some of my other students I supervise.”

“Alright, until then. You can leave clean-up to me, if you want, Baelin.”

“That is alright; this being your first day in my lab, I’ll stay to make sure you’re familiar with where things go, and to ensure the aid constructs will be fully cooperative with you, and in future. Then you can be off to have a nice peaceful evening.

“In the future, I shall trust you to know how things go yourself.”

“Ah, Mr. Roth, just the young man I was looking for!”

Alex froze mid-step.

He had just stepped out of the main castle—and was noting the flag flying at half-mast in remembrance of Minervus—when Professor Jules’ words echoed from above.

Slowly and reluctantly—almost like he was about to face the xyrthak—he looked up and saw her floating down toward him on her stone disk. She had a pleasant smile on her face…and a dangerous glint in her eye.

“Ah, h-hello, Professor,” he said nervously as he landed in front of him. “What, uh, what can I do for you?”

“I was speaking with the chancellor the other day, as you likely know—”

‘Oh no,’ Alex thought.

“—and he mentioned you and he were working on a unique project,” she said. “And I was wondering if you had any insights that you might care to share on this substance he spoke of.” She looked at him evenly. “It makes sense that Baelin would call upon you to work on it since you are Thameish and have shown excellent proclivity in the alchemical arts. How long have you been working together?”

“Not long,” Alex said neutrally. It wasn’t an actual lie, and at the same time, it also didn’t reveal his earlier crimes. In a way, he wished Baelin hadn’t pointed out how he’d broken Professor Jules’ trust by analysing the substance by himself; the guilt was going to drive him nuts, especially every time he saw her.

“I see, well, this is an exciting opportunity for you,” she said. “I will still expect you to participate in helping with my projects, that is, if you so desire.”

“Absolutely,” Alex said. “And about this stuff we’re working on… it’s really something. I mean, if Baelin’s told you all about what it can do, then you know we might be really onto something here. Getting more of it might be an issue… but there’s a lot to be excited about.”

“Indeed. Well, I wanted to congratulate you, Mr. Roth, and… be careful. The chancellor is a mighty wizard, but while he does ensure the safety of his students, he takes more risks than I am comfortable with, and does not respect procedure quite so much as I. Guard yourself—you are young, after all—and do not get dragged into something you are not ready for.”

“I got it. Thanks, Professor,” he said emphatically. He really needed to do something for her. “And… if you want to participate, and Baelin’s okay with it, I hope you can get in on our project too. Having you there would be reassuring because you know so much, and then all of us could be on the paper.”

“Hm.” She looked at him intently as she began to fly away on the stone disk. “Well, we shall see what we shall see. I am very busy after all.”

Four days later, Alex unlocked the door to the lab to find both Baelin and Professor Jules already there, and deep in discussion.

He couldn’t hide the smile blooming on his face.

The two older wizards looked up from Baelin’s note-filled book near the table where Alex had placed the still-liquified golem core. The two of them had been excitedly discussing an aspect of it.

“Hello, Professor Jules,” Alex said, unable to resist some cheek. “I see you managed to clear a bit of your busy schedule. I’m happy you’re here.”

Jules’ eyes narrowed, and she looked at Baelin. “Might we have him expelled?”

“I could start the paperwork immediately,” the chancellor said.

“No, wait—Mercy! Mercy!” Alex pleaded.

“Good, hope that frightened the cheek out of you,” Jules said, and he could see from her body language that she was almost giddy with excitement. “These numbers on this substance, by every spirit and devil, I can’t believe your kingdom was sitting on something this grand!”

She gritted her teeth in frustration. “And the mana conductivity! Good lord, Val’Rok and Toraka would likely commit bloody murder for some of this.” She shook her head. “Aaaah, if only these studies were being completed a little further in our future when our equipment was more advanced! But I imagine things have to be even worse in Thameland, though. While I’m sure their court wizards are excellent, they can only do so much with whatever analytical equipment they do have since they don’t have access to Genarasi’s strong ambient mana as a power source.”

“Not to mention the… divine element.” Baelin frowned. “‘The Pride of the Kingdom of Thameland.’ Well, the Djinn is free of the lamp. Now, come, show your professors how you finish a golem core.”

“Your own golem.” Professor Jules shook her head, looking at the monstrous body Alex and Selina had carved. “My goodness, you did not go for subtlety, now did you?”

“Maximum smash,” Alex said intelligently.

She gave him a withering look.

“No, but actually,” he continued quickly. “I figured the dungeon core’s remains would lend itself to a lot of power generation, so I designed it to focus on power.”

“Hm, sound.” She nodded. “I approve… or, I would, if you were in your third year. Of course, you are free to pursue your own projects as you wish, but to think the chancellor is aiding in this.”

“I am observing, Vernia,” Baelin said. “Now, enough talk. Let us see this finished, shall we?”

Alex wasted no time in doing exactly that.

Placing his mana conductor back in the cauldron, he pressed it into the mixture along with a device called a Nillertoq Ray: a piece of equipment for freezing things at short ranges. It used a lot of power, but it was very precise at lowering the temperature of materials.

Alex positioned it above the mixture and began to blast it as he used his mana to guide the reaction through the mana conductor. His soon-to-be golem core absorbed the cold magic rapidly as a result of its powerful mana conductivity, and the process was much faster than with regular golem cores. At this point, Alex could guide the process much better since he was now pretty comfortable working with the remains.

The liquid shook and rose, crystallizing before his eyes. He used mana manipulation, guiding the substance and shaping it into the desired diamond-like form, and then, he cut power to the Nillertoq Ray. The room went quiet.

At last, his golem core was complete. A beautiful, diamond-shaped core that—while it no longer glowed—had kept the reddish-golden hue. It was immense compared to other cores he’d seen, and he was nearly salivating thinking about the power it would produce. Yet also a little worried at how much mana would be needed to start it up. Alex looked at his creation, bursting with both wonder and anticipation.

“It is rather beautiful,” Professor Jules said. “Well done, Alex. Well done.”

“I am eager to see it tested,” Baelin mused. “Have you solved the powering problem yet?”

“I’ve been working on it,” Alex said, calming down. “But honestly, I think I’m going to really push to work that out after the xyrthak.”

“Xyrthak!” Professor Jules said in alarm, looking at the chancellor. “Already? Surely they’re not ready!”

“Oh, they are,” Baelin said. “I have a very good group in Alex’s class. A fine generation of wizards who I am sure will move on to do great things.”

“Yeah, we just have to survive the super-lizard,” Alex said.

There were only a few more days before they’d be going to the Barrens to face the creature. He was nearly done with his preparations, as were others in his cabal.

Theresa had been preparing for it too.

He wasn’t sure if they’d be completely ready for everything it could throw at them, but they sure as hell would give it their all.

Chapter 58

The Hunters

Theresa ducked, avoiding the Watcher’s strike as his sword passed finger-widths above her hair.

Her great-grandfather’s sword whipped up like a snake’s strike, and her opponent barely got his staff up in time to parry. He yelped in surprise when her hunting knife suddenly shot forward—driving him back—and she followed like a wolf pursuing a wounded buck.

All around the fighting pit, the other Watchers cheered and jeered, thumping their staffs against their seats in approval. The Watchers of Roal were the great protectors of the University of Generasi and knew their spells well, but they did not call themselves wizards. They were warriors first, and to them, magic was simply another weapon like the spear or the bow.

And they wielded all their weapons well. Theresa’s opponent was no exception.

He wasn’t a small man: half a head taller than she was, and built like a blacksmith’s son. He was only a few years older but fought with the skill of a veteran.

“Damn, woman. What the hell happened to you—Argh!” He ducked a thrust that would have skewered him through the neck had the Spell of Ritual Combat not dulled both of their blades.

When he righted himself, sweat poured down his brow and his eyes were alight with pure exhilaration. “You’re three times as fast as when we started; what in all the gods happened to you?”

“Same as you,” Theresa said, spinning both blades in her hands with complete ease. “Practice.”

He laughed, parrying another one of her blows while chanting a body enhancement spell. Mana made his muscles swell and his agility soared.

But Theresa hadn’t been pushing herself as far as she could yet. She leaned out of the way of his draw cuts, then drew a deep breath, letting her enhanced lifeforce course through her body.

Awesome strength filled her limbs and her heart thundered. Everything slowed around her as her senses sharpened, and the world—the endless forest, as she saw it—became richer with detail. As she concentrated—letting go of everything that wasn’t her opponent, the terrain, and herself—she could trace every droplet of sweat on his brow, see the reflection of the arena in his sword, and hear the rustle of his clothes and chainmail.

Now, even his enhanced agility wasn’t enough.

He swore as her blades shot at him in a flurry of strikes, and he grunted when several blows struck his armoured arms and torso. Her leg shot straight up like a lever, driving into his solar plexus and blasting the air from his lungs.

The Watcher flew backward, then flipped to regain his balance and open distance between them. Her eyes went wide as she watched his lips finish an incantation.

A burst of icy wind blasted at her. Theresa leapt aside, but the tail of it still caught her leg, slowing her as her limb went numb. The Watcher chanted another incantation.

‘What is he going to do?’ she wondered.

She braced herself, trying to steady her affected leg.

His speed suddenly doubled.

Haste.

She remembered Alex talking about those spells.

She swore.

With her leg numbed, the Watcher broke through her defences. He used his staff now, keeping out of her reach and thrusting it like a spear. Impacts rocked her body. She dove at him, driving close, trying to ignore the numbness in her leg.

She parried the staff with her sword then caught his blade with her knife. Theresa drew her head back.

Bang!

Her head slammed into his nose, and only his Force Armour saved it from being shattered. But he was an experienced warrior—more so than she—and even as he reeled, his leg shot out and kicked her numbed ankle, tripping her.

With a yelp, she hit the stones.

He leapt at her, his staff pointed down, ready to blast her with magic from close range.

“Dammit, I’m done,” she said, acknowledging that if this were the battlefield, she’d definitely be dead. Frustration rose and she acknowledged it, then let it go. Now that she was still, she could concentrate her life force into her leg, and the cold magic quickly bled out of it.

Theresa frowned.

‘I can’t wait until I’m able to do stuff like this while fighting,’ she thought. With a powerful kip up, she jumped back onto her feet. ‘I know Great-grandfather would have been able to.’

She had been growing her martial skill and power over the months, both in preparation for threats from Thameland and for her goal of following in her great-grandfather’s footsteps. Her ultimate plan was still to explore the world one day, but before she could get there, she needed to explore and learn about herself. When she felt ready, she could go out and capture some of the power that let him build his life of glory.

So far, she had the impression that if her great-grandfather was an ancient tree, she was still just a sapling. She told herself to be patient, but watching Khalik, Thundar and Isolde learning new spells and growing more capable as part of their cabal, and watching Alex build his golem, made her want to grow faster.

What she was able to do wasn’t obvious to see, like a giant walking clay man, or magics with powerful effects. It was much less flashy; even the blade-spinning she’d learned wasn’t proper swordplay; that was just for the fun of it. In the end, she wasn’t a ‘Proper Wizard’; she was a warrior and a hunter, and she needed results to show how she’d grown in her own way.

Getting knocked to the ground and surrendering wasn’t exactly a good demonstration of growth.

Her opponent let out a long breath. “By every war god that’s ever drawn blood, I thought you had me again.”

“I thought I did too, Roland,” she said, a little disappointed as they walked out of the fighting pit. From the side, Brutus got up—still chewing on a large boar’s bone—and padded beside her as she greeted him by patting one of his heads.

All around the arena, the Watchers of Roal clapped and cheered as two more of their number stepped into the fighting pit. These nonlethal bouts served as exercise, practice, and entertainment for the Watchers. At the top of the arena, a statue of Roal—the ancient warrior-wizard who started their order—watched them all, her granite eyes stern and determined.

Theresa squinted at it.

Several of the Watchers had pointed out that she and the statue wore a similar expression, but Theresa didn’t see it. The statue glared ferociously at the world like it was some kind of… stalker of death or something.

“Your skill’s impressive, you know,” Roland said. “I mean it. The Watchers don’t take people who are scrubs with a weapon. I’m new, but I had to prove myself, and you’ve already beaten me once and gave me a good run for my coin this time. Six months ago, you could barely touch any of us.”

“Thanks,” Theresa said. “But ‘a good run for your coin’ wouldn’t matter if you’d been really trying to end my life. I’ve gotta get better.”

“Well, nothing wrong with getting better,” he agreed. “Still is a damn shame you don’t have the mana for wizardry. Get a few years of spellcraft under your belt and another few more years of swordplay, and the Watchers would draw blood for someone like you.”

“I’m just good at life enforcement.” She shrugged. “I don’t—”

“Theresa! Theresa Lu!” she heard a voice boom from outside the arena. “There’s someone here to see you!”

“Right, catch up with you later, Roland,” she said, giving the young Watcher a nod and heading for the exit.

She grimaced, hoping to Uldar it wasn’t Alex.

She’d been deliberately avoiding talking about her progress to him and other friends, including Khalik, Selina and Shishi. She wanted to surprise them with how much she’d grown. It had taken her weeks of observing the Watchers, practicing near them, and joining in on some of their physical exercises before they’d finally invited her to spar. Sparring with them was by invitation only. It wasn’t because they were particularly secretive, it was just they were good. She’d learned they used to allow anyone who was interested to challenge them in the fighting pits, but the practice ended because of incidents with certain students and members of the city—all from old and powerful families—where they’d embarrassed themselves and had their pride bruised.

Now, they did what they were named for: they watched spectators for a time before they invited any interested folk to join them.

Still, being welcomed had only led to months of getting thrown around by the warriors. It was only in recent weeks that her skill, exercise and life enforcement had finally started to close the gap between their least experienced members and herself.

She didn’t want her friends to see her practice until she could reliably beat at least some of the Watchers.

But it turned out her worry wasn’t necessary.

To her confusion and relief, it wasn’t Alex waiting outside of the fighting pit.

Towering far above the Watcher that had called for her—a massive bearman—stood the hulking Grimloch. The sunlight glinted off his teeth.

“You. Been looking for you,” the shark man rumbled.

“Um, hey to you too,” she said as the Watcher left. “How did you find me?”

“Ran into Alex. He said you came to practice here this evening,” Grimloch said. His snout twitched. “I smell blood. Yes. Whose is it?”

Theresa was honestly surprised at how sensitive Grimloch’s senses were. There’d been a bout earlier where someone’s shield slipped and they’d gotten hit hard enough to burst their lip. They’d poured red all over the place. “Uh, not important. What’s going on?”

“Teach me,” Grimloch said. “Teach me this life thing you were talking about.”

And people said she was direct.

“I dunno. I’m not sure if I can,” she said. “My professor would be a better teacher.”

“Don’t know her,” the shark man grunted. “Know you. Can go to her after you show me the beginning, if you’re willing. You’re smelling different week by week. Smelling less like prey.”

A shudder went down Theresa’s spine. The extra creepy thing about his statement was that she knew he wasn’t trying to be intimidating, bragging or frightening. She understood what he meant.

Grimloch was an apex predator… and he was all too aware.

That was one of the things hunters feared most in the wild: a predator that knew it had nothing to fear from you. An angry and frightened bear was dangerous. A cunning, confident and aggressive bear was how legends began.

“It’s dangerous,” she said. “Going down that path could cripple you. All that incredible strength you already have would be gone.”

“I’ll try it. I heal good anyway.”

She frowned, then sighed. “I’ll tell Professor Kabbot-Xin about you. And I’ll see what she says. Come to my class tomorrow.”

“Tell me where and when, and I’ll be there.”

“You made the right decision,” the professor said, sitting beneath the tree. “For one as new to the path as you, leading a test on your own would be dangerous.”

Rain pounded outside the wind-and-rain shield they had set up, barely hiding Grimloch’s growl of disappointment. The rest of the class was staring up at the shark man, though they were trying to do it discreetly, and failing in most cases.

Shishi was the only one who wasn’t actively staring, but the first time she’d met the shark man, she had openly stared at him with her jaw hanging open.

“However, if he trusts you, then having you aid in his testing would calm his energies, and provide you—and all here—with a learning opportunity,” the professor continued. “It could be done before class begins. If that is alright with you, of course. Do you want to do this, Theresa? Remember, you’re only auditing the course, and if you’re not comfortable with this, you certainly don’t have to do it.”

“Can… can I do this?”

“Having others aid with testing or other aspects of life enforcement is very common. If you wish to do it, I can take the lead in the test, and you can follow my energy. You have a natural affinity for the work we do here, perhaps because you are a descendant of Twinblade Lu, and you are growing to be quite skilled.”

“I trust you,” Grimloch said. “Seen you fight. Know you’re reliable.”

The huntress gave it deep, careful thought.

If she managed to do this, that would not only allow another to experience the path of cultivation, but a powerful ally would grow stronger. Grimloch didn’t have the Mark to interfere with his concentration and risk disastrous or even deadly results, so that terrifying possibility wasn’t an issue to consider. If she failed at it and things went badly, then she’d have responsibility for Grimloch getting injured.

She thought about her loss to Roland.

Would Grimloch trust and consider her reliable if he’d seen that? And just because she’d ‘grown quite skilled,’ that wouldn’t mean much if she messed up at an important moment. Her thoughts returned to how the Watcher could have killed her if it had been a real battle.

She was leaning toward refusing Grimloch, and just letting her professor decide what to do, when a deadly, multi-limbed monster came to mind: the hive-queen. The Theresa of then—far weaker and less trained than now—charged the burning creature without hesitation. Why was she hesitating now?

Would she do the same when they faced the xyrthak?

Her jaw tightened. “Alright… if you want to try, then I’m willing to try.”

Grimloch’s mouth did an unnerving snarling thing that was probably supposed to be a smile.

The professor turned to one of her graduate students. “Would you get us a testing bowl, please? In the meanwhile, Grimloch, I want you to join us in a ten-minute meditation. We shall see if you have the ability to concentrate long enough for this.”

The guided meditation passed quickly, with Grimloch going completely silent as he joined in with the class. His black eyes rolled back, exposing a dead, white surface, and he stopped moving. He hardly even breathed.

By the time the meditation was over, the student had returned with the testing bowl. The professor turned to Theresa. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. I am.”

She turned toward the towering Grimloch, then froze, looking at his giant hands.

Grimloch grunted. “You’re gonna need a bigger bowl.”

Another bowl was quickly fetched.

Once the testing bowl was set up, Professor Kabbot-Xin turned to Theresa. “Why don’t you proceed with the question, Theresa?”

The huntress nodded, remembering when she’d been tested. “Tell me, why do you want to learn lifeforce enforcement?”

“Because I’ve seen what it can do,” the shark man rumbled. “And I wanna see what I can do.”

She nodded. “Now place your hands into the bowl, Grimloch.”

“And you, Theresa, place your hands over mine,” her professor said.

All three closed their eyes, and Theresa let her mind call into the flow of lifeforce within herself, a flow that had grown much stronger. Yet now, when she touched her professor’s, a shock rippled through her.

Kabbot-Xin’s lifeforce was an ocean—deep, powerful and honed. Theresa was in awe as she followed her professor’s power. Then she felt Grimloch’s. His life flowed powerfully through him, but it was untrained and had not been reinforced with the power of nature. Theresa—looking at her own energy and feeling her professor’s—understood how much more hers could be.

For a time, their lifeforces circled around his while a strange… shift occurred in the shark man. The lifeforce calmed and it opened up to them. And with that opening, the professor reached in, and Theresa followed.

Their lifeforces touched and Kabbot-Xin reached deep into Grimloch and shifted… something in his core. Immediately, his body reacted. His lifeforce began to boil, ejecting impurities from itself.

They drew out of him a moment later.

The shark man shuddered then heaved, vomiting a stream of awful-smelling black gunk into the bowl. Theresa was suddenly very glad they’d gotten a bigger bowl.

She smiled up at him.

“Welcome to the path of cultivation, Grimloch.”

“What a… way to start.” He shuddered, wiping the blackened stuff from his lips.

“It hurts right now, but you’ll see, your lifeforce will get rid of all that stuff and you’ll feel much lighter in time.”

Just like she had.

Theresa set aside her frustrations, her confidence boosted somewhat by helping with the test.

She let go of her loss against Roland. She’d get another chance. Besides, as much as she kept thinking of it as a ‘what if it had been a fight to the death,’ that was only her insecurities talking.

‘See the world as it is,’ she thought. ‘That wasn’t a life or death battle; that was a sparring match. Leave it aside. It’ll distract you from what’s coming.’

She thought back to her reasons for starting life enforcement. “I want to protect my loved ones, and I want to follow my great-grandfather’s path, to gain his strength and step into the world prepared for its dangers.”

That was what she should be focusing on.

She needed to go to the city. She had a bow to buy.

She looked again at Grimloch and thought about the many weapon shops in the capital. “Hey. Have you ever used a crossbow before?”

An idea began to stir in her mind.

She’d been approaching the fights like a warrior, but she was also a hunter.

And teams of hunters killed at range.

Chapter 59

The Nest

“My, my, well, aren’t you all prepared,” Baelin said admiringly.

And he was not exaggerating.

His class had come looking like they were ready to go to war.

The entourages of every student bristled with weapons.

Hogarth, Svenia and Eyvinder all had longbows and javelins with heavy, barbed-tipped arrows. They gripped long spears and kept their usual side-armaments at the ready. They wore no armour. Chainmail or other metal armour would have done little good against the force-lances of the xyrthak, and would not only have slowed them down, but also made them overheat.

Theresa carried a spear as well as a thick, composite bow that Alex—even after all of his strength training—struggled to pull to its full draw. She had left Brutus with Selina for this challenge. There would be little the cerberus could do against a powerful airborne opponent. She also had her sword and hunting knife readied.

Grimloch—still new to the path of life enforcement—looked as powerful and vicious as ever, and he’d added to his natural deadliness with a crossbow the size of a ballista, an enormous spear, and several javelins. He looked more than ready for the hunt.

The battle magic students all had extra weapons. Crossbows were common. Rayne had two crossbows slung over his back, both cocked and ready.

“We are here to fight for our lives,” Khalik answered Baelin. On his arm, Najyah ruffled her feathers with a fierce gleam in her eyes. “Or to treat this as such. I am sure this xyrthak will not go easy on us, so why should we not do what we can to make its day difficult.”

“Spoken like a Proper Wizard,” Baelin congratulated him. “And the rest of you… if this were the early days of this class, I think—and do correct me if I am wrong—but most of you would be going into this trial with only your magic readied and tactics focusing solely on spellcraft. Now look.”

He gestured at them. “Non-wizard companions. Mundane weapons. Formations. Potions.” He nodded to Alex, whose bags were filled with various potions. “Well done, you are already being transformed by the rigours of combat and adapting. Now… before we begin, I will show you exactly where you will be teleported to. Then I shall answer any questions you might have. After, you will have ten minutes to plan out your initial tactics, and then, you will be sent into battle.”

He turned and conjured an illusion of a map showing an area of the Barrens near the xyrthak’s stone tower. Alex grimly noted the wild mana vent close by.

“You will be dropped here.” Baelin pointed to an area south of the xyrthak’s nest and away from the mana vent. “It is far enough from its home that you should have time before the creature attacks. Should it come immediately, at least some time before it reaches you. Did any of your preparations these past weeks yield any questions?”

Isolde’s hand shot up. “One of my peers recently informed me that a xyrthak mates for life. Since there is a nest, does that mean we shall face two of them?”

That had been a startling revelation they’d only heard about a few days before. Alex looked up at Baelin nervously, waiting for the answer.

Baelin nodded. “This one was indeed part of a mated pair, but the female killed the male early in their nesting. He seemed to have become weakened by a wasting sickness peculiar to the species, and xyrthaks do not tolerate weakness in mates, or offspring. For our purposes, this nest was the best choice for this exercise. Keep in mind, however, having to safeguard her eggs alone might make her more dangerous. What next?”

Many in the group seemed to be caught between feelings of relief at not having to fight two of them, and uneasiness at having to fight a more dangerous egg protecting mother-to-be xyrthak.

Malcolm put up his hand. “How long until the eggs hatch? Can you give us a rough idea?”

“I would estimate not for a good month or so,” Baelin said. “You will only have to contend with getting an egg and defeating the mother, and not with live, hungry xyrthak chicks. Who’s next?”

Thundar raised his hand. “Is that big lizard gonna be in its nest, or is it off hunting?”

A twinkle entered Baelin’s eye. “Now that is intelligence I think you should secure for yourself, young Thundar.”

“Mm,” the minotaur grunted.

“Is there anything else?” Baelin asked, looking around the class.

Alex raised his hand. “What if we suddenly realize we’re actually super crazy for doing this and want to go back home?”

Several snickers passed through the class, though some of his peers only threw him nervous looks. Anxiety hung heavily over the students and their entourages.

“I see you are calm enough to joke, Alex,” Baelin said.

“No, no, I’m actually terrified. That’s why I’m joking.”

“Ah, then I shall say this. Anyone who wishes not to participate can certainly step aside, but know that it will affect your classmates’ chances at success, your own grade, as well as any future chances you might have against a threat such as this when I am not close by to protect you in case of emergencies. Think about it. Danger combined with safety now, or the cold hand of chance later. I trust you all to make the wisest decision.”

“Right,” Alex said as the class huddled together. “I’m thinking we’d better hit the ground as soon as we teleport in. Stay quiet and low first. If it’s in the nest, it’s probably not going to take long to see us. As long as we stay low and it’s not looking in our direction when we appear, we’ll have some time to decide and plan what we do.”

“We could even lie down before we’re teleported, so that we’re low to the ground when we appear,” Shiani suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Theresa agreed. “Less noise and movement that way. Then how do we get our information?”

“Leave that to me,” Khalik said. “I shall send Najyah up and high. The vent is close to the nest, which might mean vent-drinkers close by. If it feeds on them, then a single eagle will likely be beneath its notice, unless it is very hungry.” His eyes narrowed in thought. “I could cast a sound burst spell from Najyah as she flies over the vent, targeting it at the rim. If there are vent-drinkers present, it will spot them instead.”

“Creating a distraction.” Angelar nodded. “I approve.”

“Something’s bugging me, though,” Rayne said. “One second. Baelin?”

“Yes, Rayne?” the chancellor answered.

“Can xyrthaks tolerate wild mana vents like vent-drinkers can?”

“No.” Baelin shook his head. “They do have some resistance, but they will eventually be hindered like any other creature with mana. Keep in mind that even you young wizards are now stronger and experienced enough to tolerate being in close proximity to them for a short period of time.”

“Yeah, I don’t really wanna put that to the test,” Alex whispered.

“Okay.” Rayne frowned. “How high is the stone tower that it makes its nest on?”

“Roughly five hundred feet,” Baelin said.

“Ah, that explains something,” Malcolm said. “That nest is probably a good hundred feet from the vent. And with how high up it is and the beastie’s resistance to the vent, it should be safe when it’s nesting.”

Theresa frowned. “If we could somehow make it fly over the vent and shoot it down…”

“That would be the end of that,” Alex said.

“One thing I wanted to add,” Eyvinder jumped in. “I can move up through the stone tower. I might be able to ambush it from below its nest and get this whole thing finished.”

“Or at least wound it,” Malcolm added.

“Right, then how about this?” Alex said. “We come in low and see where it is. Najyah goes up and scouts out what she can see while Eyvinder comes at it through the ground. Meanwhile, we spread out.”

Alex reached into a bag and pulled out several bottles. “These are Potions of Flight. We won’t be able to fly as fast as the xyrthak, but we’ll have better manoeuvring ability than it does. Maybe a few of us could be flying, while the rest spread out on the ground. That should divide its attention and stop it from just lance-blasting us to death if we’re in a single group.”

“Good idea,” Khalik said. “I shall take one of those potions.”

“Me too,” Grimloch said.

Rhea, Isolde and Caramiyus also took one.

Alex kept the last one for himself and set the ones he’d turned into ‘bombs’ aside.

“Time is up,” Baelin said. “I hope you are all ready. And do not be nervous. After all, you are Proper Wizards with very capable companions, are you not? I am sure that victory will be yours.”

The group nodded at each other, signalling their readiness, and lay flat on the ground.

With that, Baelin waved his hand and the teleportation magic carried them off and into the Barrens.

Alex, as usual, appeared first.

Lying on the ground as he was, he couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable prostrated in the dust all by himself. He squinted at the nest. It was a jagged construction of… fuzzy stuff, and what looked to be shattered bones.

Slowly, he drew a potion from his bag that enhanced his senses and drank it down. His vision sharpened and he now saw that the entire nest was constructed of what looked to be the broken remains of bonedrinkers, muupkara fur, and the remnants of other creatures he wasn’t familiar with.

And he recognized a skull that had a tell-tale lance protruding from it.

The xyrthak’s mate: its bones had been used to reinforce the nest.

“Ugh, gruesome,” Alex muttered as the others teleported all around him in prone positions. “Waste not want not, I guess.”

He turned and quietly shared what he’d seen with them, getting grim and nervous nods in return. Nua-Oge, who had been fairly quiet, glanced over at Grimloch and exchanged a nod.

“Did you see it?” Khalik asked. “Did you see the xyrthak herself?”

Alex squinted, looking for any signs of scales or leathery wings. “Well, if it’s home, it’s lying down or taking a nap.”

“Good for us if it is,” Rayne said.

“No sense in wasting time,” Eyvinder said. “When I’m almost at the top of the tower, I’ll stick out an arm and wave my blade so that it catches the sun. That’ll let you know I’m almost there. I’ll flash once if I can hear it above and twice if I can’t. If it’s not in its nest, I’ll lay a trap.”

“A trap?” Khalik asked. “How will you know if it arrives if you are buried in the earth?”

“I will feel the vibrations as it lands; then I’ll spike it.”

“Hey,” Malcolm caught the green, pointed-eared man by the shoulder. “Be careful.”

“Always am,” Eyvinder said. “I only get one life.”

Taking a breath like a diver before leaping into a lake, Eyvinder sank into the stone, disappearing just as an earth elemental would.

“We should not wait too long either,” Khalik said, then whispered to Najyah, “You be careful too.”

The bird of prey looked down at her master with intelligent eyes, nuzzled him once with her beak and then took off, beating massive wings before catching an air current and circling high into the air.

“And now we wait,” the prince said.

“That’s always the longest part of hunting,” Theresa added. “The waiting.”

“Well, I don’t mind it,” Alex said. “More waiting equals less horrible flying lizard that uses force magic to blast faces off.”

They hardly breathed as they lay in the dust, watching Najyah fade into a small dot above, and then soar toward the mana vent and stone tower.

After what seemed like hours, Alex saw two flashes of metal coming from near the top of the stone tower.

“Nothing there,” Malcolm said. “Maybe it’s out hunting.”

“More waiting,” Grimloch growled.

“But it’s a good thing,” Theresa said. “Now we’ll have the advantage.”

“What should we do now?” Alex asked. “Start spreading out?”

“I think some of us should spread out,” Rhea said. “Some of us should move to get a view from a different angle and set up another line of attack.” Murmurs of agreement came from the group. “We just won’t go so far that we cannot support each other. One hundred feet perhaps—well within bow and spell range—and no more.”

“A fine idea,” Isolde agreed. “Hogarth, Svenia, go with them to make sure they have your crossbows and spears for extra support.”

Hogarth balked. “But, lady—”

“‘Buts’ are not for public conversation,” she said, startling Alex, Thundar and Khalik. “I shall be quite fine with the rest here.”

Rhea, Shiani and Malcolm—with Isolde’s entourage—slowly got up and began to move to the left.

“The rest of us should spread some dust on ourselves,” Alex said. “Try to make ourselves as hard to see as we can.”

He conjured two Wizard’s Hands as he and the others began covering themselves in the fine dust.

“What is it?” Isolde said, looking at Khalik who was eyeing her with a puzzled look.

“I… did not pick you for one to make ‘butt’ references, Isolde,” Khalik said.

“Perhaps we can all be a little out of our nature when waiting for death to come from above. Where is this thing?” she snapped under her breath. “I doubt we would be so fortunate to avoid it completely—it has eggs, so it cannot leave them for long—so let us just begin this death march.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Theresa whispered, a note in her voice that made everyone freeze. “Khalik, where’s Najyah?”

The prince concentrated for a moment. “Over the vent. Why?”

“Because I think we’re about to get into a fight. Look up at the sky to the east.”

As one, the remaining group members turned toward where Theresa was cautiously pointing.

Alex’s enhanced eyes caught it: a long, sinewy shape with massive wings like the sails of a small ship.

The xyrthak was coming.

Chapter 60

The Xyrthak

“Shit,” Alex swore. “Do the others see it?”

He squinted, searching for the other group until he finally spotted them. He didn’t know if they’d seen the xyrthak and gone to ground, or if they’d already been lying flat, but they were pressed to the dusty earth, moving slow and steady.

Good.

They were looking up, but hadn’t—

No, Rhea was pointing in the xyrthak’s direction and the others were no longer moving.

“Do you think it’ll see us?” Thundar grunted. “With eyes as good from a distance as Baelin says they have, no way it didn’t see some of us, especially with those guys moving.”

Khalik swore. “I cannot tell. It could either be soaring, gliding back to its nest, or hunting… Let us give it something else to think about.”

The prince’s face tightened in concentration as he looked in the direction of the stone tower and the mana vent beyond. Alex heard the whispered incantation of a spell being cast and then—

Cr-cr-BOOM!

A stuttering, cracking boom echoed from the mana vent, and just afterward, the panicked cries of vent-drinkers. Khalik’s spell of sound was doing its work.

Alex turned his attention back to the xyrthak, noticing its flight path shifted toward the mana vents. “Good, good. I think it’s going over to investigate.”

The sinewy shape grew in Alex’s vision as the xyrthak descended. Its head shifted. Turning. Searching. Scanning the plane with those razor-sharp eyes.

As it got closer, he noticed something gripped in its giant talons: something humanoid, bulky and limp.

“It’s got something in its claws,” Alex said, describing the shape as best as he could.

“A gorger, from the sound of it.” Isolde squinted, trying to get a better look, but eventually shook her head. “I cannot see clearly, but either way, does it look like it has spotted us?”

“No,” he said. “I think Khalik’s distraction worked for now.”

“Then we are fortunate,” the prince said. “Perhaps with food in hand, it has less interest in its surroundings.”

“What do you mean?” Rayne asked.

“It is in the nature of apex predators,” he said. “Whether that be the eagle, the lion, the griffon, or even we of the mortal races. When we think we have nothing to fear, and when we have what we desire, attention can slip. That is why small birds do not fear being near eagles when they are landed or already have a kill. The eagle has nothing to fear from them and there is nothing it wants at that moment, and so they feel safe.” He chuckled bitterly. “That is why we of the mortal races are so dangerous: we always want something.”

“Very philosophical,” Thundar said. “But do you think now is really the right ti—”

“Shh!” Alex hissed. “It’s coming back this way.”

The group went as quiet as corpses, the xyrthak soaring back from over the vent. For a tense moment, Alex wondered if Khalik had been wrong and it was coming to blast them.

But it began circling its nest.

“Jeez, that’s a damn big beast,” Thundar grunted as it grew clearer in everyone’s vision.

Alex wasn’t sure if it was because Baelin’s xyrthak skeleton was only bones, but this one seemed a fair bit bigger. Maybe it was a bigger creature, in which case, not so lucky for them. Scars—both old and new—traced its scales, and its beak looked absolutely deadly even from their distance.

He hoped whatever Eyvinder had planned would be enough to kill it.

The entire group held their breaths.

“Come on,” Alex whispered. “Land, damn you, land.”

Leathery wings beat a handful of times as the xyrthak prepared to land.

“Oh hell,” Khalik swore. “Get ready for battle!”

The prince tensed, readying himself to spring to his feet.

“What?” Isolde asked. “Why? The trap hasn’t sprung.”

“The gorger. Before the xyrthak lands, the corpse it holds will touch the earth first. When Eyvinder feels that—”

“He’ll trigger the trap too early,” Theresa finished. “Dammit!” She scrambled to sling her bow.

Alex readied his Wizard’s Hands. He hadn’t even bothered with shield or Lesser Force Armour. The xyrthak’s blast or force magic wrapped lance would tear through those like they were parchment. They would’ve just been a waste of mana.

The creature finished its descent. The gorger’s corpse touched the top of the stone tower.

Kroom!

Earth ripped the air as half a dozen stone spikes burst up from the rock, striking the nest. A spike exploded an egg, raining pieces down to the ground. The rest tore through the body of the gorger, impaling it and almost impaling the xyrthak. But she was just a bit too fast.

A single beat of its wings launched it into the air again, but Alex could see blood staining its legs. Whether that was from the gorger or from Eyvinder’s trap wounding it, he couldn’t be sure.

“Raaaaaaargh!” she screamed, and the air around her shimmered. Abruptly, the spikes—which had kept blasting toward her—shuddered, then crumbled.

“Shit,” Caramiyus swore, taking out his Potion of Flight. “Its cry must have hit Eyvinder through the stone!”

The xyrthak continued to shriek its rage, attention fully focused on the threat below. It hesitated, though, likely worried about its nest and eggs.

That was when the students sprang into action. All of them threw back their potions and cast spells or began to move. Rhea’s and Shiani’s chanting joined, sweeping into the air, and two beads of orange power floated up and combined into a twitching ball of flame. The fireball shot forth, arcing like a comet, and exploded just before the xyrthak’s tower.

It transformed into a roaring tornado of fire that swirled toward the beast.

Malcolm shouted his own spell, conjuring three bolts of ice magic. Nua-Oge also conjured solid balls of ice and they shot forth.

The xyrthak screeched again, and its cry disrupted the mana in the flying spells, slowing the flaming tornado.

Alex heard a humming sound as power was gathered in the air, and the lance on the xyrthak’s brow began to shimmer with force magic.

Boom!

The air tore apart as the force lance blasted through the tornado, scattering its flame. A beat of her wings carried her out of the way of Malcolm’s spells, though one of Nua-Oge’s struck true, icing part of her scales.

The creature shrieked in fury, looking toward both groups of wizards.

“Make your shots count!” Thundar roared, casting Blows of Lead on Grimloch and Theresa’s quivers and spears.

“Drink your flight potions!” Khalik cried. “We need as many individual targets as we can get!”

He drank back his potion. His face took on an expression of deep concentration, then he shot into the air as the magic of flight activated. Alex, Isolde, Grimloch, and Caramiyus drank theirs, and Rayne cast his flight spell.

“Be careful, Grimloch!” Nua-Oge shouted, casting Shield of Darkwater upon him and herself to keep them from drying out.

“Tell that to my supper!” Grimloch roared, hefting his crossbow onto his shoulder.

The other flyers shot into the air after the prince.

Thundar stayed on the ground with Nua-Oge, Theresa and Angelar. He began hurling bolts of magic at the xyrthak alongside Caramiyus and Angelar.

The deadly reptile glared down at all of them before shooting high into the air with a single beat of its wings. It climbed fast, shrinking in the sky.

“It is preparing for a dive!” Khalik shouted, readying to cast a spell. “All of you, be ready to move!”

Seconds later, the xyrthak tucked its wings at its sides and dropped.

Alex gasped.

Its speed was terrifying.

The force-enhanced lance split the air in front of it—cutting down air resistance as Ram had described it—to let it accelerate at a horrifying rate.

The airborne group scattered. It turned, using its lance and long neck to guide it directly toward Grimloch, the largest and most dangerous-looking target.

“Prepare to attack!” Khalik roared, then shouted an incantation.

Boom!

An explosion sounded just above the xyrthak and the creature startled and veered sideways, spreading its wings.

“Stay out of range of its cry and blast it!” Alex shouted.

A volley of bolts of magic, fire and ice, together with arrows from Theresa’s bow, erupted from the flyers and the combatants on the ground, but the xyrthak’s speed let it shoot past most of the projectiles.

Only two arrows—one fired by Hogarth and one by Theresa—struck it, and both bounced off its heavy chest scales.

“Filthy flying crocodile!” Khalik shouted. “We have to slow it. I thought it might have wavered, but—Look out!”

Alex glanced at Khalik, and was about to reply when he whirled back toward the beast.

With its natural flying skills, the xyrthak had pulled a wingover—looping up into the air until it reversed course—then flipped so it was right side up again.

It shot directly at them.

Hmmmmmm.

The hum of force magic began to rise.

“Shit! Scatter! Scatter!” Alex cried.

Booom!

The force lance tore through the air, nearly striking Isolde and Caramiyus as they swept out of the way. Without the Potion of Flight giving them such manoeuvrability, Alex shuddered to think what could have happened.

It sailed through their ranks and they fired spell after spell. This time, they were better prepared for its speed, and more of their magic and arrows struck it as it passed.

Its tough scales deflected the projectiles, with only one of the arrows getting through to deliver a shallow wound. However, as it glided through their positions, a bolt of cold magic clipped its wing. The xyrthak shrieked as frost spread along part of the leathery membrane, impairing it. Still, it started to turn, aiming for Shiani’s group.

“Hit it now!” Alex shouted. “It has to slow when it turns!”

“Right, give it a volley!” Khalik roared. “All of us!”

A cloud of spells, bolts and arrows hurtled toward the xyrthak from many directions. The beast parried some with her force-enhanced lance, but others struck her. She was farther away by now, so many of the arrows failed to penetrate her armour.

One of Khalik’s spells produced a glob of clay that splashed across its back, quickly hardening. Alex wished a few globs had hit its wings to send it plummeting to the ground.

Instead, it kept coming, swooping at Shiani’s group. Both she and Rhea released fireballs, but it blasted one apart with its force beam, then soared past the other, leaving it to explode in its wake. Crossbow bolts from Svenia and Hogarth glanced off its chest.

Malcolm sprayed a line of icy magic in its path, but it only clipped the creature.

Scrambling, Rhea and Shiani barked out quick spells and both unleashed massive, rising smoke clouds between it and their group.

The creature folded its wings and shot down at an even steeper angle, catching the young wizards by surprise.

It plummeted straight toward Malcolm as the ice mage tried to scramble away through the smoke.

Boom!

Her bulk hit the ground, shaking it from the impact and she abruptly unleashed her cry. The air shimmered around her. Malcolm, Shiani and Rhea screamed. Two of the wizards fell, with only the tall fiery-haired elf remaining on her feet. It was clear that doing so was taking everything Rhea had.

Which did not leave her much room to defend herself.

The xyrthak’s fanged beak shot forward like a serpent, and its jaws snapped so quickly, it was like the cracking of a whip.

Rhea gave a strangled cry then vanished just as the fangs bit down on her.

As she disappeared, the xyrthak paused in surprise. Just for a moment, though.

That was enough

Twang!

Ka-chunk!

One of Theresa’s arrows and a massive crossbow bolt from Grimloch slammed into the creature’s side.

Its shriek blasted their ears, slowing the multitude of spells shooting at it from Alex’s group in the air, and Nua-Oge’s on the ground.

Hogarth and Svenia charged in with their spears, jabbing its scaly underbelly and punching shallow holes in its hide.

A single beat of its wings carried it skyward.

The bolt and arrow had struck deep and it was bleeding, but the monster still had a lot of vigour left.

“Damn it all!” Khalik swore. “It will not be so careless again!”

Alex’s eyes narrowed, looking at one of his Wizard’s Hands.

He placed one of his booby-trapped potions—an altered Potion of Flight—in one of his Wizard’s Hands, but all too quickly realized it wouldn’t work. The creature’s cry slowed spells, and with its natural speed, there was no way he’d be able to manoeuvre the potion bottle in front of it fast enough to break the glass and gas it before it sped away.

They needed to slow it down or stop it.

His eyes narrowed.

Think. Adapt.

What resources did they have? The xyrthak turned in the air. Alex’s eyes flicked around him. Najyah approached from above. The green form of Eyvinder slowly emerged from the stone of the tower, shaking his head, appearing to be still woozy from the creature’s cry.

Wait… that might be it.

He looked at Malcolm, who was rendered violently ill.

He needed to get to the ice wizard.

“Khalik! Isolde! Thundar! Theresa! Everyone!” he shouted. “I need to get to Malcolm. If I can, I think I might be able to screw up this thing’s flight!”

“Let’s do it!” Khalik barked. “Go!”

Glancing at the turning xyrthak, Alex shot toward the fallen ice wizard.

Chapter 61

A Cold Delivery

The air rushed past Alex’s ears as he fired himself toward Malcolm’s fallen body. He kept the modified Potion of Flight in his Wizard’s Hand, which was poised to squeeze at his will.

Spells fired at the xyrthak from behind him, drawing its attention, but the creature seemed intent on singling out targets that were alone.

And Alex had broken away from the group.

He stifled a scream as it shot toward him, and he activated the Mark, focusing it on the act of flight. It improved his skill by the moment, teaching him every correct movement to maximize manoeuvrability. The others fired at it again and again, but it was too quick and its armour too thick.

“Alex!” Theresa screamed, and she fired repeatedly, taking care not to hit him. One arrow hit home, but the xyrthak was still able to fire its force beam.

Alex dove, shooting toward the earth, and the beam passed above his back. At the same time, he shot the Wizard’s Hand into its flight path, preparing it to clench and crush the potion bottle when it got close enough.

There was another hum.

The xyrthak fired at his spell.

Whoosh!

The potion bottle exploded into the gaseous trap-potion, but the xyrthak screeched and pulled out of its dive before it could fly through the cloud.

‘Damn!’ Alex cursed.

It was being cautious. Too cautious.

He pulled out of his own dive, shooting forward and flying only a few feet above the earth. His other Wizard’s Hand removed another gas potion from his bag just as he reached Shiani’s group.

Hogarth and Svenia were helping the two young wizards to their feet and supporting them to stand. Each looked pale, sick and drenched in sweat.

“Malcolm!” Alex cried. “Malcolm, are you okay? I need you here with me!”

Malcolm was dazed but didn’t look like he was suffering anything serious like a mana reversal. Though he and Shiani didn’t look like they’d be participating in the fight much more.

“Someone… beat that bloody knight,” Malcolm muttered, half-delirious. “Break his knee. Take that war mace of his hand and shove it down his—”

“Malcolm! Listen, I’m sure whatever you’re seeing has to be better than all this, but if it weren’t for Baelin’s spell, Rhea would’ve been bitten in half and I need you with me, man! Come on!” Alex used his voice not to scream at Malcolm, but to be loud and authoritative enough to get his attention.

The ice wizard shook his head.

“Alex? I—”

A scream erupted and Alex whirled around.

The xyrthak shot past the flyers. Two more arrows protruded from it and it looked like one of Rayne’s crossbow bolts had punctured a wing. The wizard was preparing another bolt to fire.

Caramiyus, however, was plummeting in a twitching, helpless wreck: it looked like he’d gotten caught in the scream. Thundar raced over and caught the doberman beastman before he hit the hard ground of the Barrens.

Arrows were flying from the tower. Eyvinder had recovered—speaking to his fortitude—but he was having no luck hitting the xyrthak from his range. He was gliding through the stone down the side, half-sticking out, his eyes fixed firmly on Malcolm.

Alex turned back to the ice wizard.

“Listen, I think we can ground this thing, but I need you to cast a spell. Do you think you can do that?” he asked.

Malcolm groaned.

Alex grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Focus, man! Adapt! Can you do it?”

Malcolm shook his head, and anger began to seep into his eyes. “I feel like my head’s about to explode… but I think I’ve got one or two more in me. You’d better have a good plan, though: I’m done if it catches me like that again.”

“If my plan works, it won’t be catching shit-all,” Alex said, glaring at the creature. “I just need one spell.”

Malcolm groaned. “Which one?”

“That teleportation spell you got, Call Through Ice,” he said. “Teleport this potion bottle—” He jerked his thumb at the potion. “—right in front of its stupid, piece of shit face.”

Malcolm looked at it. “And that’ll bring it down?”

“Absolutely,” Alex said. “Very likely, absolutely. It’s probably completely certain. There’s a really good chance that it’ll probably work like I want it to. Most likely.”

Malcolm stared at him. “That doesn’t inspire confidence.”

“Well, trust me, it can’t hurt. You in?”

“I got nothing better to do.”

Alex looked back at the other group and shouted, “I need you to slow it down! Just for a split second! Anything you can do!”

“We are trying—” Khalik started saying.

“Leave it to me!” Rayne shouted, drawing gazes. “I’ll do it!”

Isolde looked alarmed; the Potion of Sensory Enhancement let Alex see her expression even from this distance. “Are you sure? I don’t think—”

“Let me do this!” Rayne shouted. “There’s no time, it’s coming for us!”

He unslung one of his crossbows and started to shoot higher into the air even as the xyrthak banked to the left and came in for another dive.

“Over here!” Rayne shot upward, breaking away from the group, presenting himself as a target. The xyrthak took the bait and dove for him with all of its speed.

Rayne fired his crossbow, and the others shot more spells. It swerved left and right, avoiding most of their attacks.

Rayne shouldered his second crossbow and fired.

The xyrthak responded by pointing its lance at him. The humming rose in volume.

Alex swore under his breath. “Malcolm, get ready!”

Malcolm clenched his teeth and began to cast the spell.

Then Rayne turned and dove away from the xyrthak. It was clear he had a lot more flying experience than the rest of them: he shot down toward the ground, barrel-rolling as he went, keeping its attention.

It chased him, changing its angle. Rather than diving at the last instant like Alex, Rayne had given it plenty of time to correct its course. The flying wizard descended far quicker and more steeply than Alex had.

The ground swept up to meet him and then—at the last instant—he turned so he was flying parallel with the ground. He was so close, dust kicked up as he flew.

The xyrthak followed and tried to correct its dive, but Rayne had gone too low. If it did not slow, it would crash.

Snap!

Its wings snapped out, slowing it for an instant. And it unleashed its cry.

Rayne screamed—getting caught in it—and crashed into the dust.

And for a few instants, the xyrthak hovered as it prepared to climb.

“Now, Malcolm!” Alex barked.

Malcolm finished his spell.

Whoosh.

There was a flash of icy wind as what looked to be a tiny door of ice opened beside the potion bottle. It and the Wizard’s Hand spell were sucked through.

Alex felt the magic circuit disintegrate as his spell and potion disappeared from this plane, and an instant later, popped out of the frozen portal right above the xyrthak.

Alex bit his lip, hoping the brief time of going through the para-elemental plane of cold hadn’t ruined it.

Out of reflex, the xyrthak swept at the potion bottle with her lance.

Crack!

There was a crunch of glass.

Boom!

The bottle exploded, sending a cloud of aerosolized flight potion directly into the xyrthak’s face. The beast froze as the gas enveloped its head, then a sound like a gasp and a violent sneeze erupted.

Ka-thunk!

Another of Grimloch’s crossbow bolts slammed into its side, along with two of Theresa’s arrows.

Nua-Oge’s icy water spell splashed onto a wing, freezing parts of the membrane.

Then Najyah swooped by and a glob of Khalik’s clay spell splashed onto the xyrthak’s wing, hardening in an instant. Several blasts hammered into its scales, but not enough to stop it, and it began climbing again.

Alex watched, his heart sinking.

The potion hadn’t—

‘Wait, is it wobbling?’ he thought.

The flying reptile sneezed, shaking its head, its flight a bit unsteady. Then it suddenly shot into the air.

The beast screeched as its flight went completely crazy, bouncing around in the air as if unseen hands were tugging it in different directions.

It zigzagged, looped and rolled randomly. The potion’s corrupted flight magic sent it off course as the group stared on in shock. Screeches echoed through the air, and its wings flailed wildly as it desperately tried to right itself.

And then it shot toward the ground with all four limbs scrabbling at the air.

Bang!

It hit the earth, kicking up a massive dust cloud. She screeched, clawed and scratched at the dirt as she tried to pull herself up.

And up she went, shooting back into the air, flailing wildly.

“Uh,” Hogarth said. “We should probably regroup.”

“Yeah,” Alex said dully. He couldn’t believe how well the potion worked.

He heard a tired snicker come from just behind him.

“Yeah, you flail, you dirty, scaled vulture.” Malcolm laughed weakly.

They dragged their way to the other group as the flyers landed. Angelar hovered protectively over Caramiyus, while Thundar gently picked up the fallen form of Rayne and returned to the group.

“Rayne? Rayne?” Thundar called to him, tapping at his face.

“How are they?” Khalik asked Angelar and Thundar.

“Rayne’s not dead. No mana reversal or anything, but he’s out like a burnt-out candle,” Thundar grunted, and there was a note of respect in his voice. “Brave bastard. Can’t believe this is the same guy that flew away in the beginning.”

“Caramiyus is tough too,” Angelar said. “He’ll be back on his feet, but I don’t know about any spell casting anytime soon.”

Caramiyus groaned in his grip.

Khalik glanced over toward Eyvinder, who was still making his way back to the group. Then he looked up toward the scrambling xyrthak.

“Alex, you madman.” Khalik grinned ferociously. “Look at it! It is like a puppet whose master is being stung by scorpions!” His grin faded. “This is good. This will tire it immensely, but it will not finish it—HOH!”

All of them winced as the xyrthak began firing random force beams in all directions in a panic as it tried to regain control of its flight and senses. Another twitch and it crashed back to the earth.

Vooom!

Its force lance tore a trench through the earth, kicking up a massive cloud of dust as its body dragged—clambering and screaming—along the ground. When it shot back into the air, Alex could see clumps of scales had been scraped off.

“By the elements, that is utterly horrifying,” Isolde gaped.

“If we were in an enclosed space, I think it would be smashed to pulp by now,” Theresa said.

“Indeed, but for our sakes, it is not unfortunately. How much longer will it be in this state, Alex?” Khalik asked.

Alex frowned. “Well, I brewed the potion to burn through its mana a lot faster than a regular Potion of Flight, and it’s already been smashing around for a few minutes. I’d say maybe another couple of minutes or so before the magic wears off.”

“Good, then we shall need to hurry and finish it off,” Khalik said as Najyah swooped down and landed on his arm.

Alex looked at him, as did the rest. “You got something in mind?”

“I do,” he said. “When your magic fades, it will be wounded, confused and dazed. This will likely bring it to the earth even if the potion wears off while it is airborne. And tired and wounded as it is, I doubt it will be able to fly well quickly.”

“True,” Theresa said. “But it’ll be a wounded animal: it’ll fight with everything it’s got left.”

“Mhm,” Khalik said. “Which is why I think we should close in, surround it, and bury it in our magic. Shiani, do you think you have a fireball in you?”

The young woman shook her head queasily. “It’s taking everything I have just to stand.”

“Hmmm, then it will be the hard way. We surround it from all sides and bury it with magic and arrows until it stops moving.”

Theresa grunted. “I don’t think that’ll work. Against a bear? Sure. But that thing is a hunter with a ranged weapon more powerful than any of ours. It can blast you wizards or use its cry to put all of you down, especially since it’s desperate and wounded.”

“A fair point, what would you suggest, then?” Khalik asked.

Theresa squinted, then glanced toward Grimloch. “How strong are you feeling?”

“Strong,” Grimloch said. “And hungry.”

“Good,” she said, her deathstalker face on full display. “I say you and me get in there, flank the thing and hit it with our spears. Give it something to focus on instead of letting it just blast everyone with that lance. Hogarth and Svenia can harry it with longbows too. Our task is to keep it pinned so it can’t get time to use its cry on the wizards.”

Nua-Oge looked up at Grimloch. “Well, that’s a plan I know you’d like.” She turned to Khalik. “What about if you and I go next? Blast it with clay and ice to keep slowing it so it can’t get away?”

“I shall be there as well,” Isolde said. “My strongest lightning spells will require that I be closer than some of you others. You and I, Khalik, can resume flight and strike it from above with impunity.”

“Right, right, this is a good plan,” Khalik said. “Then Thundar, Alex, Angelar, Hogarth, Svenia and the wounded can be on the back-line.”

“I’ll run interference from above too,” Alex volunteered.

Malcolm snarled. “If Eyvinder’s recovered enough, he’ll spike it when he gets back.”

“Good, we got a plan,” Thundar said. “And right on time!”

They looked up as the xyrthak’s wild movements in the air suddenly ended, and it plummeted like a falling catapult stone.

It tried to fly, but still dazed, it couldn’t right itself before—

Boom!

The ground shook as it crashed.

Thundar cast body enhancement spells on both Grimloch and Theresa. The shark man handed Thundar his massive crossbow and bolts.

“Now’s our chance!” Alex roared, shooting into the air. “Let’s finish this thing!”

Chapter 62

Cuts, Teeth and Mana

Grimloch and Theresa pounded toward the xyrthak.

The huntress was the faster of the two. She hefted her spear and closed in on the monster, Grimloch close behind. He’d always been able to cover a lot of ground with his enormous strides, and with the aid of life enforcement, his speed began to increase.

Isolde, Khalik and Alex flew up and over the xyrthak, preparing their spells. Alex cast a forceball and Thundar cast a body enhancement spell on himself.

The minotaur got Grimloch’s crossbow ready, tensing his muscles then using both hands to pull the string back. Unlike the shark man, he needed to use much of his body and a lot of grunting to pull it back, but he set it just as Theresa reached the xyrthak.

The creature was utterly battered.

The arrows and bolts that struck her had snapped off, leaving the tips in wounds that gaped open. She panted from exhaustion, and her wings revealed several small rips. Blood dripped down her scales.

Still, the fight hadn’t left her eyes, and a screech echoed across the Barrens as Theresa closed in on her.

The xyrthak’s neck whipped forward.

Snap!

Its jaws came down on empty air. Theresa slid beneath its beak and pointed her spear up toward its chest like when she dove beneath the dying hive-queen. Now, she was faster.

She thrust the spear forward with all of her enhanced strength and precision, driving it through a gap in the steel-like scales. The point sank a foot deep before a twist of the monster’s body snapped off its haft. Theresa was back on her feet, with her ancestral sword and hunting knife in either hand.

The huntress danced within its reach, her weapons flickering like flashes of light under the sun. She went for shallow, twisting cuts that would strip skin from most creatures, but merely slipped beneath the xyrthak’s hardened scales, delivering light cuts between the gaps.

More blood dripped, seeping into the dirt as the beast tried swiping at her with wings and talons, and even attempting to crush her with its immense bulk. But the huntress’ speed and the creature’s poor vision up close made it impossible for the xyrthak to pin her down.

It could not even use its lance against her because Grimloch was now upon it.

With a dreadful hum, it fired its force beam at him, but the shark man dodged sideways. Grimloch grunted in pain. It had clipped his shoulder, but he kept charging despite the wound.

He thrust his massive spear at its body, but a sweep of its neck split the weapon with its force lance. Grimloch snarled, stalking toward it more cautiously, waiting for a moment when Theresa’s harrying caused its attention to shift.

Yet the monster was cautious as well, swiping and smashing at Theresa while taking care not to point its lance away from the shark man for too long.

Nua-Oge’s freezing water magic sprayed from just outside the range of the xyrthak’s cry, freezing over its wings and scales. Angelar followed up with a stream of bolts of magic. Thundar fired Grimloch’s crossbow. The bolt struck the beast’s side, but angled off its scales, bouncing away.

Hogarth and Svenia loosed arrow after arrow. Many ricocheted, while some bit into the membranes of its wings or struck the wounds already inflicted between its scales.

The creature grew more frantic. Its wild movements whipped up great clouds of dust as its blood spattered the ground. It fired its force lance again and again, keeping Grimloch at bay, but still Theresa danced through its defences, opening more cuts, tiring it.

“We have it now,” Khalik said. “Come, let us finish it!”

He and Najyah soared above the xyrthak in circles, blasting it with sharp conjured stones and clay magic. Alex floated above and called his forceball to his side, his eyes narrowed at the beast.

The young wizard noted the rising cloud of dust and the creature’s poor eyesight up close.

“Tell me when you’re gonna blast it!” he shouted to Isolde.

“Momentarily! With my strongest lightning spell, I will strike it after it fires its lance.”

With that, she began her spell.

The air shifted as pressure changed, like before the coming of a storm. Blue lines of electricity traced their way across her fingers and between her arms as she extended them skyward.

Mini booms of thunder sounded around her.

Then two orbs sprang to life above her hands.

Alex’s eyes widened.

They looked to be similar to forceballs or perhaps orbs of air, except lightning arced between them with an ear-splitting crackle and near-blinding light. Isolde’s black hair began to rise around her as though caught in the wind.

The xyrthak heard, or perhaps felt, the building lightning magic and let out its scream. Unfortunately for the creature, she was too far below for the debilitating sound to reach. In a desperate move, it leapt back—using the powerful muscles in its wings to push off the ground—and raised an even thicker cloud of dust between itself, Grimloch and Theresa.

In the same motion, it began to lift its neck toward the sky.

Alex heard the hum of force magic building in its lance.

“Hey, try this instead,” Alex said calmly, then ordered his Wizard’s Hand and forceball down.

The two crimson spells closed the distance to the xyrthak at tremendous speed. He stopped them just in front of its eyes, blocking its sight. Caught off-guard, wounded and its poor eyesight doing it no favours—especially through the dust—it panicked, sweeping its horn left and right, blasting apart his Wizard’s Hand but missing the forceball. Alex shot the orb back and forth around its eyes, confusing it further.

Isolde finished her incantation.

“Get back!” she shouted to Theresa and Grimloch.

The pair ran from proximity of the xyrthak.

Isolde swept her hands down.

The arcing balls of lightning burst toward the earth.

They were slower than Alex’s force spells, but still quick and going wide, set to strike on either side of the xyrthak instead of directly into its body.

“Isolde, you missed!” he cried.

“Do you have another one in you?” Khalik asked her.

A wicked smile swept across her lips. “Did I miss? Did I?”

Both young men looked back down.

The balls of lightning stopped mid-air on either side of the xyrthak.

And flashed brightly.

Boom!

Thunder roared through the Barrens and the beast screamed.

Lightning blasted back and forth between each orb—striking the reptile with stroke after stroke, again and again—passing electricity through its body in a vicious current. It spasmed as the power wreaked havoc through its form, its muscles constricting with each bolt. Crackling lines of lightning raked the ground around it as it foamed at the mouth.

Alex and Khalik gaped, and even Grimloch and Thundar were stunned. The ice and clay steamed on its body and cracked, and blood shot from its wounds.

It appeared ready to succumb.

“Fall,” Isolde said. “Fall, curse you, fall!”

Yet the xyrthak neither fell nor succumbed.

With a shudder, it let out another mana-disrupting scream, which shook the spells around it, slowing the lightning and weakening it just long enough for it to roll out of the path of the two orbs.

It shook like a wet dog, coughing dust and fighting to recover.

Crunch!

Blood sprayed through the air with a cry of pain from the xyrthak.

Grimloch had jumped onto its back and sank his razor-sharp teeth into its scales. They popped and cracked under the force of his bite. He violently shook his massive head back and forth, ripping and tearing apart the soft flesh underneath.

The creature opened its mouth to cry out, but he wrapped his arms around its neck to secure his position and forced its beak closed with both hands.

Crash!

Several spikes burst from the earth, driving into the xyrthak’s torso and skewering its body in place. Eyvinder emerged from the earth near Malcolm.

Yet it still would not die.

Whoosh!

Wrenching free of the spikes, its strength waning, it gave a desperate beat of its wings that carried it into the air out of Theresa’s range as she skidded up to where it had been.

“Grimloch!” Nua-Oge cried. “Let go!”

The shark man was determined, refusing to let up his gripping hold and deadly bite.

The xyrthak took flight, desperately gathering speed and flying north toward its nest.

“Dammit!” Khalik swore, beginning to give chase.

Alex followed and Isolde soared after them.

“Do you think it’s defeated?” Isolde shouted.

“I am making sure,” Khalik said. “I do not want this creature to simply start diving at us again. It is most likely going to die, but as Theresa said, a wounded beast is a dangerous one.”

“Well, it’s not gonna get far,” Alex said.

Grimloch ravished its body with his bite. Blood trailed from the creature, its once powerful wings propelling it much slower than before.

“Where do you think it’s goi—Oh shit,” Alex swore.

It soared past its nest and over the wild mana vent.

“It’s going to try and shake him off over the vent!” Alex shouted. “Grimloch! Let go!”

Too late. The creature swept back and forth over the vent, trying to dislodge him.

“I have had enough of this,” Khalik said. “Najyah! Go, and stay high above!”

The students were flying over the vent now, and Alex that strange resistance in the air from the wild mana was beginning to bombard him. At least it felt a lot better than it used to.

Najyah flew behind the xyrthak and soared over the beast.

“Now! Take its sight!” Khalik shouted.

With a screech, Najyah plunged down with talons slashing as she shot past its head. The eagle tore out one of its eyes.

The xyrthak recoiled, going stiff in its agony and reared back its neck.

Grimloch released his sharp teeth from the flesh on its back and pulled himself upright.

Scccchrrrrrrp!

There was a horrifying sound like something wet being ripped apart as the shark man bit into its throat. With a vicious twist of his head, he tore it out.

It was dead within heartbeats. The shark man jumped off, hovering in the air as it plunged toward the vent glowing with its multitude of colours.

“Yeeees!” Alex cried. “Good job, Najyah, and you too, Grimloch, you terrifying death-beast!”

“Well done, Najyah!” Khalik shouted.

“Make sure to feed her the fattest rabbit you can find!” Isolde called. “And I will buy you a whole swordfish, Grimloch!”

The shark man turned and gave them a toothy, and very bloody, grin.

Alex looked up at the position of the sun. They’d been flying for a good while. Maybe they shouldn’t be hanging around above the mana vent for too long in case the Potion of Flight began to wear off.

“Everyone!” he shouted. “Get to the side of the vent before the potion wears off! I don’t know how much more time we have. It’ll let us down slowly, but if we go down here, we’ll plunge right into that giant, glowing mana sponge!”

Even Grimloch looked frightened at that. The wizards and shark man used whatever mana was left in their Potions of Flight to begin flying toward the side of the vent.

Alex glanced down at the xyrthak’s corpse.

The wild mana ripped through its form the more it fell into the vent, breaking it down into smaller and smaller components. It seemed its natural tolerance for the mana vent held the core of its body together, but its neck, head and limbs soon disintegrated completely.

Alex shuddered, beginning to feel strange.

Was it just him or was his perspective starting to change? The ground seemed closer than before.

“The potion’s wearing off!” he shouted.

Alex fought through panic. He did not want to know what would happen to something with very little or no tolerance to the wild mana.

They soared toward the side of the vent, but it seemed to never get closer. As their altitude decreased, the wild mana thickened in the air, almost as though he were flying through quicksand.

“Where’s Baelin?” Isolde screamed. “We defeated the monster and Eyvinder got its eggs! Should he not be saving us?”

Alex’s thoughts spun. ‘What is happening?’

If the chancellor hadn’t come for them yet, that must mean there was a way for them to get out of this situation. But what could it be? Whatever it was, they needed to find it fast because the fading potion was making them feather-light for a time before it completely wore off. When it did, they would float down… right into the mana vent.

His mind froze before it could even begin its mantra of thinking and adapting. Light as a feather? He glanced at his forceball.

“I can get us out of this!” he shouted. “We’re light enough that my forceball can carry us!”

“And Najyah can help as well!” Khalik said. “Najyah—Go to Grimloch! Isolde—Try to make it to Grimloch and grab on to him! Grimloch—hold on to Najyah; she’ll tow you and Isolde!”

“At once!” Isolde cried, using what propulsion she had left to drift toward Grimloch.

“Khalik, grab the forceball!” Alex drifted it toward the prince.

“You firs—”

“No time to be noble, just grab it!” Alex said, shoving his spell in front of his friend. He noticed the forceball begin to shake as they’d gotten lower and closer to the vent, and he used every ounce of mana manipulation he could to keep it together.

Khalik grabbed it, then Alex brought it back so he could grab on too.

Najyah and the forceball towed them at increasing speed toward the side of the mana vent. The thickness of the wild mana in the air stabilized somewhat. They were sinking toward the vent, but getting nearer the edge faster than they fell.

The edge came closer and closer, until—finally—Najyah and the forceball struggled to bear their weight.

“Get ready for a rough landing!” Alex cried.

Grimloch tucked in his arms and dropped like a stone, with Isolde holding tight to him.

Bang!

The shark man landed hard but bent his powerful legs to absorb the impact.

Isolde jumped free, running to stay upright.

Alex and Khalik came down rolling to absorb the impact. The prince grunted with exertion, but Alex’s Mark-enhanced practice paid off, and he rolled to his feet, then helped Khalik to stand.

They were just past the edge of the mana vent. If they had fallen even slightly faster, they would have plunged into those deadly depths. The vent’s power roared through the air, but—though he had to grit his teeth—Alex found he could tolerate being close far better than before; an accomplishment that filled him with a ferocious pride.

With excited nods between them, Khalik, Alex, Isolde, and Grimloch, began moving away from the mana vent. Najyah landed on Khalik’s arm.

When they had gotten perhaps fifty steps away and were finding it easier to walk, Alex felt teleportation magic.

Baelin appeared before them, a radiant smile on his face.

“Congratulations, my young Proper Wizards. You have defeated the xyrthak. Now, let us go back for some well-deserved debrief and celebration.”

With a wave of his hand, they were away, and the last thing Alex saw were the victorious smiles on his companions’ faces.

Chapter 63

The Path of Proper Wizards

Alex appeared in the stadium just before Baelin and the rest of the group shimmered back into being. An exhausted but triumphant cry rose from all around.

Theresa raced up and caught him in a tight hug, actually lifting him off his feet and spinning with him. Khalik surged in next, turning it into the start of a group hug. Isolde merely smiled warmly beside them.

…Until Thundar came roaring in and tackled her into the hug.

“Ah! Release us, you big brute!” she cried, though it was clear she didn’t mind so much. “Agh! You stink! Your fur stinks! You are going to kill us!”

Thundar roared with laughter as he pounded his friends on their shoulders. “I’ve got the better nose, Isolde, and trust me, you stink too, but I don’t care!”

Alex heard her gasp above their shared laughter from somewhere in the pile. “I surely do not!”

All around, pure joy and self-satisfaction fuelled other celebrations.

Hogarth and Svenia were hand-in-hand, facing each other and doing a jig in circles. Eyvinder was helping Malcolm to his feet and exchanging grins and a nod with the young man. Rayne and Shiani were helping each other up, while Shiani was saying something to him with a tired smile. Caramiyus and Angelar were supporting each other, uttering a series of excited, canine yips.

Grimloch was actually tossing a laughing Nua-Oge up and down in the air like she was a small child.

Beyond them all, Baelin watched with the pride of a well-pleased grandfather. “Well done, well done. You deserve to celebrate. Xyrthaks are considered one of the mid-level threats in the Barrens, and have taken the lives of many wizards over the years. And yet, here you are—first- and second-year students—who have killed one in combat. And, of course, you also recovered the prize you were tasked with.”

Eyvinder opened his bag, revealing several large xyrthak eggs, all unbroken and unspoiled. “It was the first thing we did.”

“More than one! Well done, well done. In truth, the reason I said you needed to obtain an egg was so that you did not simply stand at the farthest range you could and blast the entire nest from afar.” He laughed as he recalled a memory. “I once had a class of students who did just that. They came upon a xyrthak while it was asleep and simply used their spells to blow it apart—nest and all. Without question, that was… a learning opportunity, and one not to be discounted simply because they chose minimal effort and a safer experience, I might add. But it was not as rich an experience as I would have liked for them. Yours was far richer. Might I have the eggs now?”

As the chancellor took them from Eyvinder, Malcolm groaned. “I wouldn’t have minded a sleeping xyrthak.” Laughter passed through the group.

“And how is Rhea?” Shiani asked.

“Good,” Baelin said. “She received a wound, but my magics took her away before it could prove vicious. She currently recovers in the infirmary… If anything, her pride and temper are far more wounded than her body. And speaking of wounds, some of you have had your mana disrupted.”

He gestured to the side and Alex noticed several folks dressed in the uniforms of infirmary staff standing there, bearing satchels with the symbol of two snakes curling around a tower. They went to those that had been affected by the xyrthak and handed out mana-soothing potions.

The potions helped to re-balance the disrupted mana, and their sickly pallor began to fade.

“I shall speak with Rhea after we have debriefed on how the group did today,” Baelin said. “But first, my formal congratulations to you all. It was quite the challenge. Now, let us begin with the positives and speak on how you have grown over the course of the months we have spent together.”

He gestured to Rayne.

“Rayne, when we first began this course, I will not lie: you were a liability to yourself, and others. Easily led—”

Several members of the class winced as they remembered who had led Rayne: Minervus.

“—and not very tactical in your efforts to preserve your safety. You could not contribute to yourself or others in combat. Over time, though, that has utterly changed. Look at you today. You engaged in a strategy that was self-initiated and helped your peers, but put yourself at risk for the sake of the rest of the group. Were it not for the distraction you created, I believe this battle would have gone far differently.”

He clapped his hands. “Well done, Rayne, well done.”

Rayne flushed with embarrassment as several class members murmured positively and joined in with Baelin’s applause. Alex gave him a sincere thumbs-up.

“Malcolm, you were able to use a utility spell to great effect to help carry the day. Were it not for your teleportation magic, likely the xyrthak’s speed would’ve placed you all at a permanent disadvantage. Well done to you as well!”

Malcolm smiled weakly as a healer administered their aid.

Baelin went on to compliment the others, mentioning growth—both great and subtle—that Alex had not noticed. Judging by the looks on the faces of those praised, many of them hadn’t seen those aspects of their own progress either.

It spoke to the chancellor’s powers of observation, and his dedication to teaching.

“Alex,” he said. “Your… unorthodox modification of a potion that could be used in an indirect manner.” A twinkle entered Baelin’s eye. “Speaks to your ingenuity and skill in alchemy. It robbed the xyrthak of much of its power of flight and energy, and made it wound itself significantly. Your companions were then able to work together to finish the second task, terminating it. Your distractions, along with the occasions where you took initiative and leadership, provided your team with advantage over the beast. And to that point of leadership—”

Baelin looked at Khalik. “My young friend, you grow more and more comfortable taking point and command when needed. You are often able to see the bigger picture, which you demonstrated today by recognizing the xyrthak would not be first to touch the nest. You have also shown significant growth in your connection and coordination with your familiar. Congratulations. It is clear you are building a strong foundation not only in wizardry, but also in leadership… If that is where your path takes you.” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at the prince, and Khalik bowed his head, returning the smile.

“Well done, Thundar.” Baelin nodded to the minotaur. “When you began this course, your focus was mostly on your great physical prowess and enhancing it with your spells. Now, you have grown immensely in your versatility and how you contribute to battle, and how you also empower your team members.

“And well done, Isolde, you have the makings of a truly vicious storm mage. Your modifications to the Arc of Lightning spell proved to be absolutely brutal, and I doubt the day would have been won without it. If you choose to become a mage in the Rhinean Empire’s army, I am sure your eastern neighbours will tremble. They will have far more than the elemental knights and the rune-marked to keep them on their toes.”

Alex’s ears perked up at the term ‘rune-marked.’

“Finally, I wish to give special mention to the entourages. Svenia and Hogarth, you proved your experience as veterans today, and I have no doubt that Isolde is well-pleased having you both as part of her guard. Your ability to work well among wizards will be invaluable to whomever you work with.

“Eyvinder, your natural talents proved not only incredible, but how you used them to single-handedly complete the first part of the task was an invaluable contribution to the overall success of the mission. And finally, Grimloch and Theresa. You two have the makings of terrifying warriors.”

Baelin chuckled. “There is a bias among wizards and those that wield divinity. When one is used to calling upon the powers of the gods or twisting the laws of the universe to their unbreakable will—”

Alex honed in on that. Didn’t Hobb use an almost identical expression?

“—it is often tempting to dismiss warriors—even those that enhance their lifeforce—as nothing more than brainless brutes that wield sharpened metal clubs. Sometimes that is true, but oftentimes, such arrogance has led to a smug wizard choking on their own blood as a barbarian or knight’s weapon cleaves through their force armour and into their rib cage. Or perhaps they’ve awoken in shock to find an assassin who had just planted a dagger in their throat crouched above their bed. You two have the makings of those warriors that any wizard or monster would be wise to fear.”

He gave a knowing look to Nua-Oge and Alex. “And even wiser to have on their side. But enough from me. Let us bring it to you. What did you do wrong?”

The class came together as one, whispering to each other and discussing the events.

Malcolm raised his hand. “We didn’t account for the xyrthak’s cry affecting Eyvinder when he was under the ground below it. We also didn’t think of finding a way to make sure Eyvinder could confirm the target before using his magic.”

“Very, very true,” Baelin said. “Had Eyvinder, perhaps, left a small hole in the rock to see if what was landing was his quarry, and not just relied on his ability to sense tremors in the earth, then likely the fight might have ended with his first attack. Who else?”

Shiani raised her hand. “Rhea and I should have baited the xyrthak then blasted it at a point when it couldn’t swerve out of the way of our spells. We needed to let it get closer—not too close—before we used our big magics. Also, now that I think about it, I wonder if this choice might have been a mistake. Rhea and I decided she would wait to drink her flight potion so the two of us could hit the xyrthak with a united volley of fire first. She was going to drink the potion after we’d wounded it and then chase it. She didn’t get the chance before she fell.”

“Very good analysis,” Baelin said. “And agreed. It is often tempting, and sometimes necessary, for a wizard to strike from as far a distance as possible, especially against something like a mana vampire, dragon or xyrthak. However, sometimes such ranges only lead to wasted mana if an opponent is quick enough. A Proper Wizard can rain destruction from close or far, and is able to adjust as needed. And indeed, if Rhea had drunk her potion, then she could have taken another position. A united volley is good, but not when resources might be wasted. What else?”

Alex raised a hand. “I think I should have worked out a way to feed it my booby-trapped potion early on, and kept that plan in mind. If I’d thought of Malcolm’s teleportation spell sooner, I could have fed it the potion earlier and we could’ve been able to bring it down while we still had more of us left to fight it.”

“Indeed,” Baelin said. “When your and your companions’ spells, knowledge, and resources expand, it can sometimes be easy to forget the exact capabilities of every single option that you have. Especially when it comes to applying them creatively. And we do not often have pauses in the heat of battle where we can consult each other, or go over our own spell books to find just the right spell for the right moment. It can often be helpful to consult with companions and know as many capabilities as you can when entering battle. And also, experience helps.”

He took a few more answers, which he either agreed with or found flaws in, depending on what was said.

“I shall also put forth that while stealth and traps are incredibly useful, an alpha strike can often be the most important one. Let us say for a moment that you had been a little bolder in your approach. You readied spells and as soon as the xyrthak was set to land, you struck it with everything you had at the same time that Eyvinder triggered his trap. Instead of it being able to simply dodge the earth spikes and commence attack, it would have been forced to try and dodge a wall of spells and arrows from two sides. I can guarantee it would have taken some serious damage by being caught off-guard. Be bolder, I would say. Caution is the friend of every Proper Wizard, but battle often favours whoever strikes the first telling blow. If you can help it, do not grant initiative to the enemy.”

The class murmured in acknowledgement of his final points. He gave them a nod in turn, and then grinned and spread his arms. His beard clasps tinkled. “With that aside, I want to say I am proud of your growth. I am proud of every last one of you. As such, when the xyrthak eggs are sold to alchemists who are in the market for them, I will donate the funds to a very important fund: all of your coffers. Including, of course, to those that are part of the entourage. It will be a fine sum, even split among every member of the group.”

Excited whispers spread through the class.

“And I would also like to suggest something.” He grew serious. “Normally, this is announced at the end of the second semester, but you have slain a xyrthak early. And so, I suggest this to you now: do consider the act of monster hunting to be something not so… daunting to you anymore. You are not the green-as-grass first-year students that were troubled by muupkaras. If you are clever, and show the aggression, caution, power and ingenuity you have shown today, then the act of harvesting monsters for profit in terms of bounties, materials or even for practice and sport should not send you shivering under your beds in fright.”

He conjured a map of the Barrens and pointed to a wide area that included the former territory of the xyrthak, and the tower that they originally fought to reach during their initial test. He traced a line around it, and Alex noticed those areas were relatively close to the wall separating the countryside and the Barrens.

“You may hunt creatures in the countryside or even proceed as deep into the Barrens as the former xyrthak’s territory and expect to be able to handle most of what you could encounter in those areas. As long as you are ready and show the same sort of expertise you have so far, you should be able to defeat what those regions can throw at you. This is the privilege of those who have stepped firmly onto the path of being a Proper Wizard. In time, even demons and dragons will tremble at your coming.”

A twinkle entered Baelin’s eye. “So, I think you shouldn’t fear a few muupkaras.”

The class chuckled.

Malcolm laughed hard. “Ah, you sound like some of the jarls from back home. Next thing you’ll be saying is that we should go hunt down that mana vampire.”

The rest of the class burst out laughing, though Baelin did not join them. Instead, the goatman was deep in thought.

“I would not suggest hunting for it solo and unprepared… But, under the right circumstances and with enough preparation and reinforcements…” He stroked his beard. “Some of you might be able to bring one down in open combat. I am not suggesting you should risk hunting it down, but you are growing, and mana vampires are as vulnerable to steel and might, as any other creature.”

He glanced at Svenia, Hogarth, Theresa and Grimloch, then to the rest of the class.

“I dare say, if it finds many of you together in one place and hopes for an easy meal… then it would be in for a rude awakening.

“I should add that any choice to hunt monsters is by your own will. You are adults and assume any dangers therein. The University of Generasi does not own the Barrens of Kravernus, just as it does not coddle you. I might also suggest telling others if you are going to mount a monster hunt, but again, such things are your own choices.”

Alex nodded along with the rest of the group. Honestly, he half-believed Baelin’s words. He managed to briefly resist the mana vent’s destruction, his will was stronger, and he was gaining weapons to fight with. If he had to face that starving mana vampire he’d fought on the Red Siren now, he doubted—even with the Mark—that it would be able to defeat him.

A booby-trapped Potion of Flight, or even a quick grab and toss—preferably overboard before the Mark could interfere—sounded like they could work. Still, against one of the creatures who had their hunger regularly satisfied—and who was as experienced as the one in Generasi—he still didn’t like his chances.

One thing he did want to start trying, though…

The time would soon be coming when first-years would receive a special permission: limited access to a few chosen second-tier spells so they might try advancing to the next tier of wizardry. By the end of the semester, they were all expected to have learned some second-tier spells. Since they were advancing in magic lore and other classes, they would be given the opportunity to start practicing early in preparation for advancement.

He glanced at Malcolm.

He knew exactly which second-tier spell he wanted to try first.

Chapter 64

Frozen Doors and Crooked Rectangles

Alex was having a pretty damn good day.

He was lying on his back beneath the almost always sunny Generasi sky with a bed of soft grass cushioning him. Above him, an experiment with spellcraft was bearing fruit.

His crimson glowing Force Shield turned and pivoted by will and mana manipulation. One thought sent it spinning in circles like the xyrthak had after inhaling his potion. Another flipped it like a coin until it turned to face him.

He examined his modified spell array and magic circuit. Another thought would lock the shield into any position that he desired. It was a great success.

With a kip up to his feet, Alex then stretched before falling into the flow of the Cleansing Movements. He brought the mana shield in, twisting and turning it around him, filling gaps in his defences and warding off imaginary opponents.

He concentrated—using his meditative techniques to get through the Mark’s interference—and conjured a Wizard’s Hand, then another. He brought the hands into his movements, letting each match the position of his own hands, then swooping them around to cover more gaps in his defences.

Alex imagined himself sweeping and deflecting opponents’ blows with a careful twist of a shield, push of a hand, or sweep of an arm. He added to his practice, combining some of the motions from the Cleansing Movements with stances and positions from the Spear-and-Oar Dance.

This fusion was something he’d recently started to experiment with for an upcoming event.

Shortly after he and his classmates defeated the xyrthak, letters had arrived from Patrizia DePaolo, inviting his cousin Isolde, Alex, Theresa, Selina, Thundar and Khalik to his spring ball. There was even a cute little side note in Theresa’s letter inviting Brutus as a welcome playmate for his hounds.

As soon as the invitation arrived, Alex decided he should expand his range of dances by getting Khalik, Isolde and Thundar to teach him some of the dances they knew. As he used the Mark to help him learn their moves, he noticed that—increasingly—he received images of movements from the Spear-and-Oar Dance to augment the new steps and turns.

That clued him in to something.

There was room for crossover.

He’d then tried modifying the Spear-and-Oar Dance by bringing some of the Cleansing Movements into its positions, and found—to his satisfaction—the Mark helped him with creating the modifications.

This was the start to not only mastering multiple dances, but also creating something uniquely his own. It was almost as much fun as experimenting with cooking recipes, potions, and modifications to his spell arrays.

Alex turned quickly then coiled his muscles and flipped in the air, landing on one hand and balancing.

The Mark helped correct the positioning of his body to keep it supported upside down on a single palm, and then he began to walk around—still upside down—on both hands. Passers-by looked on, chuckling at his circus-like antics, but their laughter then turned into claps of appreciation as he flipped and cartwheeled back onto his feet.

He gave them a crooked smile and a comically exaggerated bow, using his Wizard’s Hands to copy where his own hands would be positioned while bowing.

He then took a deep breath, flexing his muscles.

Alex’s strength had continued to grow, astonishing himself, at least. Following Khalik’s advice about balancing his meals had benefited him with plenty of energy, as well as muscle gains over most of his body. He was energetic and powerful most of the time, and would even start to get edgy if he had to sit still for too long.

His body preferred moving and using the energy coursing through it, so he’d started advancing the way he trained in the gymnasium. Their aerial moves while they fought the xyrthak had given him a feel for manoeuvring in the air, but since he couldn’t constantly brew Potions of Flight to practice in the air—not yet, at least—he could up his training on an obstacle course on the ground.

Acrobatics were the next step.

He’d begun to combine running, climbing and swinging from ropes with increasing agility, leaping from rope, to wall anchor, and back. Khalik had chuckled and asked him if he’d decided to join the circus, to which Alex had replied, “Hey, if I get kicked out of Generasi, I’ve got to have some kind of back-up plan, don’t I?”

Still, he’d also kept himself disciplined when it came to school.

And that was bearing more fruit too.

Concentrating, he dismissed his Wizard’s Hands and began casting a spell he’d had a lot of trouble with in Ram’s class: Protective Force Weapon.

He’d been adjusting and trying different things with it, but the fact the Mark had two things to complain about since both spellcraft and pure weapons were involved, it hadn’t made things easy for him. He’d tried modifying a part of the spell array to create force objects that could deflect attacks and weren’t necessarily weapons. Only, the wizard who first created the spell must have been a major blade-addict.

Trying to modify it to produce other force constructs had been maddeningly difficult.

At first, he’d tried daggers, but the Mark still aggressively resisted the spell compared to more utility-based magic, or magic that didn’t involve weapons. It was better, but not great.

Next, he’d tried customizing it to create an object that was embarrassingly familiar: mops. The idea of having spinning mops defending him was a bit… sad and ridiculous, but also tickled Alex’s sense of humour to no end.

The thought of some warrior or monster having their attacks turned aside by a bunch of crimson glowing force mops was absolutely hilarious, and would be infuriating to an enemy.

Unfortunately, the spell array always fell apart when he’d tried to use mops.

He’d even gone to Baelin to talk about the issue, but the goatman only nodded in a sagely manner and said, “You are overcomplicating it. Try a simpler approach.”

Which he had. Trying to simplify the array to make it so there would be less places for him to make mistakes. It worked… somewhat. Protective Force Weapon was a complex spell. It crafted multiple force constructs, set them to spin around the conjurer, then infused them with the ability to react, change position, and deflect incoming attacks.

That was a lot for a first-tier spell to do, and so any simplification he’d made ruined something. The constructs would fall apart or remain stationary, or wouldn’t react to incoming attacks.

A few painful welts from Khalik’s tossed rocks definitely taught him the limitations of the spell being modified in that way.

Through his endless trial and error, he’d hit upon an idea and a possible solution. Alex had remembered Isolde’s modified Arc of Lightning spell. She’d used some of the modifications he’d made to his forceball to gain more control over the Arc of Lightning’s two points of connection—the orbs that the electricity fired between—to channel more mana into them.

They were simple modifications that didn’t really change the shape of the spell’s two anchor points.

He started to realize that was what Baelin meant: he’d been trying to change the shape into something else. What if he merely simplified the shapes?

While the spell fell apart when he’d attempted completely changing the sword shape, he found simply taking out parts that controlled the exact shape of the protective constructs would still allow similar constructs to be created… they just… well, they just looked odd.

But odd was okay. For his purposes, they couldn’t be considered weapons anymore.

“Go-go, Protective Force Crooked Long Rectangle!” he said cheerily as several glowing crimson rectangles—just barely of the same dimensions as swords—formed around him. They honestly looked like they’d been drawn by someone who’d never seen a real sword before, but they got the job done.

They deflected attacks and didn’t register as weapons to the Mark. Since they were defensive, as soon as they stopped being ‘weapons,’ he’d had a far easier time casting the spell.

Now he was working on mastering it at the same time as he’d started the journey to learn his first second-tier spell.

Alex pulled out a spell-guide from a bag that contained both his books and his lunch—separated by beeswax covered paper—and traced his hand over the design on the front: two ice-covered doors connected by the symbol of the para-elemental plane of cold.

Call Through Ice.

It was a field that was a bit of a gamble when it came to learning a new tier of spells, being both a cold spell and a teleportation spell, neither of which he had any experience with. The closest he had was with the spell that conjured a stone. However, Alex began to notice a growing sensitivity to teleportation magic and a feeling of being strongly drawn to the very useful art, so he’d excitedly chosen Call Through Ice as his first second-tier spell.

The gamble turned out to be one of his better ideas.

To be sure, there were parts of the spell that were difficult: second-tier magic was an entire order of magnitude more complex than the first-tier spells Alex was used to. There was one part of the spell, however, he was finding surprisingly easy. It felt almost second nature to him, even with the Mark interfering, since it involved spell casting.

The section of the spell array that was responsible for forging a connection between the para-elemental plane of cold and the material world was so easy to learn and cast, it was almost like that part of the spell was trying to let him learn it. Even with the interference, the connection between the material world and the para-elemental plane of cold formed as though the latter was reaching out to form a connection with him.

And that section was one of the hardest parts of the spell.

He frowned.

If the rest of the spell proved as easy to master as it looked like it might, then he would need to look more seriously into teleportation spells and maybe spells of summoning.

Early in the semester, he’d decided to stay away from the latter, because summoning could be dangerous if one didn’t know what they were doing. His experience being with Jules and her grad students when they’d summoned the shoggoth brought him to that conclusion. There was also the demon at Carrie London’s rally, and lots of old stories Baelin had told him of summoners who conjured an elemental or spirit they couldn’t control, and had met their end by either being drowned by the water elemental, or smashed to pulp by the earth elemental they’d conjured.

But, if he was having such an easy time with this low-level teleportation effect, then it might be a sign of him having the ability to summon monsters. First and second-tier ones, like sprites, wouldn’t be all that powerful—especially compared to his golem when it was powered up. To that end, they could be something that wouldn’t be considered direct combat, and would expand both his utility and means of defending himself.

Alex shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t be getting ahead of himself with summoning. There was the possibility of it being something that could help him, but it was also something he should only give serious consideration to if he was in a class, or under the supervision of someone experienced, like Professor Jules or Baelin.

Having such an easy time with part of the teleportation spell was really making him want to know what was in the Traveller’s book even more. The more he felt like he had some sort of a connection with teleportation magic, the more his suspicions grew. When he’d destroyed the dungeon core, his mana and the Traveller’s magic touched.

Had something happened then?

He was itching to know, but Baelin—in the time he could spare going through books in the library—had still not uncovered anything having to do with the Traveller’s language. The chancellor even suggested that perhaps it was merely some sort of code created by the Traveller herself. A made-up language only she could decode with no translation available.

Alex grumbled, wishing things on that front had been easier.

Then again, lately, he noticed that the harder the task, the sweeter the reward.

During the weekend, as an example that made his mouth water in anticipation, many of the group from the xyrthak hunt were going to get together and go out to a restaurant in the city—one close to campus and Alex’s workplace—to celebrate their magnificent victory.

Alex suggested that he wanted to cook up a celebration feast for everyone, but his wealthier classmates—Isolde, Khalik and Nua-Oge—said if he had to cook, it wouldn’t be a real celebration for him. They’d offered to take the entire group to a fine restaurant as a treat. Alex asked Isolde and Khalik if paying for so many people wouldn’t be a problem; they’d simply shrugged and basically said what good was their wealth if they couldn’t take pleasure in using it?

“Note to self: try to be born rich,” Alex muttered.

He shook away the distraction and returned to practicing Call Through Ice. The weekend would be time enough to think of all the food he was going to eat on his friends’ coin.

In the meantime, he would also continue working on the problem of powering up his golem… and having a conversation he’d been sort of avoiding.

It was time to have a candid but gentle talk with Selina about her future. He didn’t want things to be difficult for her, but the time for making a decision about whether she wanted to start learning wizardry next semester was getting closer, and she still wasn’t saying anything about it.

He’d kept delaying it because the one time he’d tried Call Through Ice in front of her, she’d burst into tears.

There was something going on with her—and like how his friends and Baelin were supportive of him—he wanted to support her.

Chapter 65

The Talk

This was it, the day Alex and his fellow xyrthak hunters would be meeting up at the restaurant to celebrate. It was cloudy, but the air was its regular Generasi warm. He and Selina were having a brother and sister only picnic beforehand.

He watched his little sister for a long moment while trying to pick the best time for their talk. In a way, he was still dreading the conversation. She’d been pretty calm and relaxed lately, except for a few rare mornings and evenings when she’d gradually turned sombre. Those times were growing less and less, and he was afraid of opening a wound that might be on its way to closing.

He was still working on different ways of normalizing her power and affinity to fire. The work they’d done together on the golem kept her within the world of wizardry’s wonders—normalizing them—without rubbing her face in her own affinity.

After the xyrthak fight, Alex told her about his class’s adventures in the Barrens—including the fiery escapades of Rhea and Shiani—to maybe present flame magic in a neutral way. She’d listened to the stories with rapt attention and little discomfort when the two fire wizards were mentioned.

But she’d gotten really quiet when the story turned to Malcolm and his spells. Alex was beginning to see a connection between that and when he’d cast Call Through Ice in front of her. He knew how much Selina loved snow, and—with her dislike of fire—perhaps what she wanted was to practice ice magic—something that would nearly be impossible because of her affinity.

A gentle talk should work, but it would be a difficult balance. As the adult and head of their little family—still a strange thought to consider now that they were out of Mr. and Mrs. Lu’s house—it was up to him to make sure his little sister was well taken care of and guided in responsible directions.

Young children lacked information and naturally couldn’t decide their futures as yet. Half of the boys he’d gone to the church school with when he was Selina’s age had wanted to be knights-errant, not knowing that knighthood required either noble blood or a peerage from the king, knowledge most wouldn’t have until they got older. Still, he didn’t want to force Selina into something so important if she didn’t want it, especially considering their own trauma from fire.

It was a hard line to walk. All he could do was hope the support he’d been providing her would help make it easier on both of them.

He turned to face her. She was in the middle of stuffing her face with cookies that he’d baked the day before, and making little sounds of appreciation as she wolfed them down. She had actually finished a big lunch beforehand, and was full and, hopefully, happy.

She certainly looked happy.

She started when she saw him looking at her, then gave a mischievous grin and opened her mouth to reveal a mess of chewed-up globs of cookie.

“Ugh, gross, little goblin, gross!” He made a face and recoiled.

She swallowed. “You’re gross.”

“No, you.”

“No, you!”

He shook his head. “Selina, can we talk about something? I mean… I think we need to talk about something.”

She stopped mid-bite. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong; we just need to talk about certain things that are becoming important as you grow up.”

She frowned suspiciously. “Is this about making babies?”

If Alex could have willed himself to die right then and there, he would have been in the afterworld, cracking his knuckles and looking to give Minervus’ ghost a punch. Unless the Mark was still on his shoulder after he died. Well, that was a dreadful thought… for another time.

“No, it’s not about making—” He looked all around, then lowered his voice. “No, it’s not about making babies.”

“Oh, okay, because I already know about that,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What! Did some kid at school—”

“No, Mrs. Lu told me a while ago.” She chewed her cookie. “So, I already know all about that.”

“Alright, okay, thank you, Mrs. Lu, holy crap,” he said with feeling. “Anyway, no, I wanted to talk to you about you, and maybe starting to learn wizardry this upcoming year.”

Selina’s shoulders began to sag a little. “Oh. Okay… I was wondering if you were going to bring that up.” She gave him a sad look. “My friends are all talking about it. Everyone who has mana is going to start learning next semester… People keep asking me if I’m going to.”

“Have you thought about it?” Alex asked.

“A little. But… fire.”

“You don’t have to learn fire magic if you don’t want to,” Alex said. “You can learn any other magic you want. You can learn to summon things. You can make potions, golems and build magic items. There’s all kinds of stuff you can do. You never, ever have to touch a fire spell if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah. But I can’t use ice magic or water magic, can I?”

Alex winced. “Did… were you thinking about that?”

“Yeah.

“How… what do you feel?”

“…Sad.”

“Yeah, it’s tough,” he said. “You want to do ice magic but can’t… you can do fire magic instead, and you don’t really want to do fire magic, do you?”

Selina shook her head rapidly. “I thought I could make a snowman with everyone if I had magic… even here. So it makes me sad.”

Alex winced. Suddenly, he felt really sad too. He was glad he’d picked today—when they were going to have dinner with all their friends—to have this conversation. At least after it was done, Selina would have something good to look forward to at the end of the day.

“Yeah, that’s tough,” he said. “I don’t know… It’s just not fair, is it?”

“No. I don’t want fire… I want ice… I want water… I want Mom and Dad.”

Her words cut right to his heart.

“Yeah, I want them too,” he said, looking at her closely. He noticed something. A strange look briefly crossed her face. “Is there something else you’re thinking about?”

“Um… A little bit.”

“You can tell me if you want… or you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

She looked at him for a long time, her large green eyes searching his face for… something. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

“I promise,” he said, even if he didn’t know if that would be true.

“I, um… I think about what Shiani said when we were eating together.” She took a deep breath and her face became very serious, almost grave. “Fire can heal and fire can protect. It’s like a sword, or like Brutus or even a hand: they can hurt and they can help. Fire is like a child with no mind: it hurts when it runs free. It cannot help itself, but if it is directed, fire can heal and protect like no other thing in this world. That’s why it’s beautiful.”

Alex was a bit taken aback. “You… you remember all of that?”

She nodded. “I said it to myself again and again so I would remember, like learning my multiplying tables or Uldar’s prayer.”

“Oh wow. So, you think about that a lot?”

“Mhm. It’s hard… it’s hard to protect people, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea,” Alex admitted honestly.

“Yeah you do,” she said. “You did all that work to build the golem and you did it in…” She lowered her voice to a whisper: “…in the Traveller’s cave.”

“Uh,” Alex thought back hard. “Yeah… I guess it’s hard work. Maybe not for someone like Baelin because he’s so powerful… but yeah.”

“Mm,” she said. “You have to do things you don’t like, right?”

Alex scratched his head. “Well, the silence-spiders weren’t very fun, were they? Sometimes making the golem’s body was hard too, but you don’t have to worry about protecting anybody, Selina. You’re ten. It’s adults’ jobs to protect you.”

“But… you could get hurt too,” she said. “Just like Mom and Dad.”

“I… that’s not going to happen,” he said, though he knew he couldn’t really promise her that.

“And that person, that guy at your work… he died, right?”

Where was this going? “That was a tragedy, it was just… something happened. You know how dangerous things can be out there.”

“Mhm.” She nodded. “And in the Cave of the Traveller… you and Theresa protected us with…” She became rigid and had to force the next word out. “…fire.”

“Selina, that has nothing to do with you. You take your time with getting used to anything having to do with fire. If you don’t want to ever touch fire magic, you don’t have to. If you don’t want to touch magic at all, you don’t have to. I know you don’t like it—”

Something passed over her face for an instant.

“—and I know you think it’s scary—”

“I hate fire,” she said suddenly. “I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!”

There was a desperate firmness in her voice, almost like she was trying to convince him of her words, though he already knew they were true.

“I know, I know,” Alex said. “I didn’t like fire either. It’s okay, Selina. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if you decide to become a wizard… well, it’d be good for you to learn, and I could help you—”

“Okay.”

“Hm?”

“I want to learn how to be a wizard like you and Khalik,” she said. “Just… I’m sorry that I’ve got fire in me, Alex. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey! Don’t be sorry!” Alex said. “That’s like saying you’re sorry you have hands just because some people use their hands to hurt other people. It’s okay, Selina. You’ve done nothing, and I’ll always, always, always love you, okay?”

She was silent.

“Okay?” he asked again.

“Okay,” she finally said. “…Is being a wizard as fun as it looks?”

“Yeah. Sometimes even more fun,” Alex said, smiling warmly. He spread his arms. “Now, come here and give me a hug, little goblin.”

She made a face, looking around. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, in like two years, you won’t want to hug me at all. Come on, have mercy on your big brother.”

“No.”

“Alright, if you don’t, then I’ll start wailing about how my sister hates her big brother right here and—”

“Okay, okay!” She scooted over and gave him a hug.

He hugged her back. “I’ll always love you, Selina, no matter what you do.”

She nodded, though he couldn’t see her face. “I love you too,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Alrighty, I release you from the hug.”

She held on to him for a little longer before finally letting go.

“So, are you ready for dinner tonight?” he said. “You can talk to Shiani for a bit if you want. Theresa’s going to take you there with Brutus. Khalik and I are helping Thundar with one of his assignments for magic lore, then we’ll be along right after, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“And don’t eat all the food before I get there.”

“I won’t!”

“You know, Thundar,” Alex grumbled as the sky-gondola finally pulled into the city. “‘I’m almost done with the assignment’ doesn’t usually mean, ‘I still need help writing half the damn paper.’”

“Oh, by the gods, will you drop it!” Thundar said. “I was almost done! And then this guy—” He pointed a finger accusingly at Khalik. “This is the guy that went ‘there’s a better way to do this,’ and said I needed to re-do half of what I did before you got there!”

Both Alex and Thundar looked at Khalik, who shrugged. “Does a man apologize for telling the truth?”

“I would have been fine!” Thundar whined. “It would have been a solid paper! At least a mid-eighty!”

“And now it is a mid-ninety. Why are you complaining?” Khalik said. “You say you are ‘leader’ of this cabal, and yet now you go on about how your efforts are ‘good enough.’ Since when do we accept ‘good enough’?”

“When it’s good enough!”

Khalik shook his head. “You will thank me when you get your assignment back.”

“I might be dead by the time I get my assignment back. I’m starving!” Thundar growled.

Najyah, perched on the side of the sky-gondola, shook her head in a surprisingly human gesture.

“Oh, now the bird’s sassing me. Keep it up and I’ll make you into emergency food!” Thundar snapped.

The magnificent eagle squawked in false fright as she took off and flew into the city.

Khalik smiled. “She’s off to the restaurant first. I think she will eat before we do. On purpose.”

Thundar snorted. “Your familiar’s evil. Crazy useful, like some kind of super minion, but evil.”

“She suits me fine when she is not in her evil moods. She has a sweet side too,” Khalik said.

“Too bad she never shows it.” Alex chuckled, drawing a glare from Khalik. He looked over the side of the sky-gondola and saw their restaurant a few streets ahead. The crowds weren’t too thick, luckily, and there wasn’t much in the way of sky-gondola traffic.

Alex perked up some when he saw a familiar sky-gondolier lifting off from a nearby street, no doubt giving her dead-voiced speech to her customers. “Well, there’s Lucia.”

“Who?” Khalik asked.

Alex blinked in surprise. “Oh, I never told you guys about Lucia?”

Thundar shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar to me.”

“Right, when we first got to Generasi, we—”

Khalik gasped, his eyes going wide. His hand grasped his chest as though he was having trouble breathing. “No… no!” He turned to the sky-gondolier. “Set us down! Now! Now!”

Their gondolier gave him a funny look. “We’re still a street away from—”

The sky-gondolier gasped as Khalik barked out a spell and earth armour formed around him.

“Did you not hear me?” He reached into his purse and threw a gold coin. “Set us down or I will bring us down myself!”

Thundar and Alex sat up in alarm as the gondolier abruptly landed them beside a shop.

“What’s wrong?” Thundar demanded.

Khalik vaulted out of the sky-gondola and was already running as he shouted back. “It’s Najyah! I can feel her mana being drained!”

Alex’s body went cold.

Chapter 66

Rumble in the Alley

Khalik ran ahead, weaving through the crowd.

“Move aside! Move, I tell you!” he roared, drawing his short sword. As he shouted—in his panic—he switched back and forth between Tekish, his mother tongue, and the common tongue.

Thundar and Alex were right behind him, with the minotaur casting a body enhancement spell on himself and drawing his mace. “Mana vampire!” Thundar roared. “The mana vampire’s close! Help!”

“No, wait—” Alex started.

Too late.

It was just like when his parents’ house started to burn.

At that time, people ran around, screaming ‘fire! fire!’ which mostly caused panic instead of helping.

It was even worse here. With the crowd’s fear of the mana vampire simmering beneath the surface, it erupted all at once. People were suspicious of everyone else, screaming and pushing others away. They fled in all directions.

‘That’s right,’ Alex thought. ‘It’s a bloody shapeshifter. Without knowing where it is, people are going to get panicked and paranoid that it could be anyone.’

Yet Khalik was charging ahead as though he knew exactly where the creature was, no doubt following his connection to Najyah.

The prince weaved through the panicking crowd, even shoving them aside using the weight of his earth armour. Alex searched for the city guards and saw some approaching, but they were far down the block trying to get the crowd controlled.

“Shit!” Alex cursed as Khalik turned and rushed into an alleyway.

His mind whirled, trying to come up with strategies. His hand dipped into his bag—carried by a forceball—and grasped the flask of one of his last booby-trapped flight potions. In a tight alleyway, it might be enough to seriously damage the mana vampire—since it would smash itself against the walls—unless it absorbed the mana of the potion instead.

He cursed inwardly.

Too many unknowns.

Too many risks.

Not enough time to account for them, and nothing they could do except go on.

He and Thundar tore into the alleyway just as the minotaur slapped Alex with a body-enhancement spell. Their speed quickened and they rapidly began catching up to the prince as he turned into another narrow alley.

“No!” Khalik cried.

Alex and Thundar skidded to a halt right behind him. They gasped.

Ahead was the tall figure of a thin, pale man. His clothes were of rich fabrics and perfectly tailored. Had he been casually walking along the street, Alex would have taken him for no more than a wealthy merchant or patrizia out for the evening.

The corpses at his feet shattered that illusion.

A pair of hunters lay on the ground, their skin washed out and as dry as sun-baked paper. Their flesh had withered to the point the dried-out skin looked to be covering thin strips of jerky, and their eyeballs had collapsed in their sockets.

Beside them was one of those tracking cats with glowing eyes; its body had been crushed and drained dry.

Maybe an ambush gone wrong. Very wrong.

Najyah was in the creature’s grip, clawing and biting at him with all the strength and savagery she had. Deep wounds were opening on his face, but were healing as he drained her.

She was weakening by the instant as the mana vampire’s fingers—lengthened and full of suckers like a squid’s tentacles—closed their grip around her.

“Let her go!” Khalik snarled and charged, his sword swinging out.

It was bad terrain. Lots of things to trip on, and the space was so narrow, they could only face it two at a time.

“Help! Mana vampire!” Alex cried, hoping the guard would come as he pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around one arm. He charged after Thundar and the prince. They needed to flank it just as the skeletons had flanked them beneath the Barrens.

One of Khalik’s spells began to form around Najyah as the prince transferred his mana to her, but the magic withered and died as the creature abruptly drained it. He cursed and conjured a swarm of sharpened stones, blasting them at the mana vampire.

The creature snarled and leapt to the side.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The conjured stones shot through the air, going wide and shattering on cobblestones and the alley’s walls.

It hissed, still refusing to let go of the prince’s familiar. Then its eyes began widening, swelling until they bulged from its head.

Mana shifted in the air.

The urge to sleep slammed into Alex like an enraged bonedrinker, forcing him to use every ounce of his will, his meditation techniques, and his experiences resisting the Mark, to withstand this creature’s power of sleep. This induced exhaustion hit a lot harder than on the Red Siren.

Khalik growled and stumbled, dropping to his knees in a struggle against its power, and Thundar’s mace clattered to the ground. The minotaur toppled over like a speared pig, already snoring when he hit the cobblestones.

Alex frowned. If he used his booby-trapped flight potion, there was a good chance it would kill Najyah. He needed to get her free of the creature first. If he used his forceball, it would just drain the spell, plus that would separate him from his potions.

Time for the hard way.

He charged at the mana vampire, catching it by surprise since it could see he was able to resist its sleep magic. The creature’s mouth twisted, turning sideways. Its teeth fell away, exploding into mist as they touched the ground; a sucker-covered tongue shot from its mouth.

The young wizard kept running toward the wall opposite the mana vampire and jumped. His feet touched the wall for three quick steps—running across it—then he pushed off, turning and spinning his body to face the mana vampire.

As it turned toward him in surprise, Alex darted forward, shoving his covered arm into the space between its arms where it held Najyah.

His arm twisted in a rapid Cleansing Movement move, and he applied all his body-enhanced strength to break the monster’s grip.

The monster’s hold broke, and Najyah was freed, wasting no time in flying to her master, screeching.

Khalik shook his head as his familiar nuzzled him. “Go,” he groaned. “Wake up… Thundar, then go… go get help.”

The eagle moved away from Khalik and hopped over to the fallen minotaur.

The mana vampire hissed at Alex and began a transformation. Its eyes bulged from their sockets even further, and all exposed skin grew spongy and porous.

This creature was nothing like the one he’d fought on Fan-Dor’s ship. This one was healthy. It was well-proportioned and powerful, and moved with the grace of a predator.

It stood motionless for a heartbeat, like it was measuring him, then suddenly rushed straight at Alex—far faster than the creature on Fan-Dor’s ship—and out of reflex, the young wizard fell into a stance from the Spear-and-Oar Dance. His hands rose into practiced positions of the Cleansing Movements, with his cloaked-arm pointed toward it.

Alex stepped aside from its lunge, his reflexes far sharper than before. It reached for him, and he brushed its arm away like he was swatting a fly away, but winced from the impact. The creature was very strong. He would need to focus on something Ram had been teaching this semester: redirection.

“Help! Mana vampire!” he yelled as the creature lunged at him again and again.

The monster seemed to attack by instinct rather than practiced skill. Alex weaved around the attacks—almost with ease—lightly guiding its limbs around himself to dodge the deadly suckers on its hands and tongue.

He leaned back as the tongue shot out, striking the air just where his face had been.

“You there!” someone cried from the end of the alley.

The mana vampire froze for an instant. Another wave of exhaustion slammed into Alex—but he resisted it—then he heard the sound of a grunt as someone dropped to the stones at the end of the alleyway. He cursed.

“Run! Get away!” he roared at the beast, desperately trying to get it to leave. “The guards are coming!”

It cocked its head.

“You have seen me, as I have seen you,” it gurgled. “You have vexed me. Now you will feed me.”

There was a note of pure malice in its voice, one Alex had heard in the voices of irritated hunters after a missed shot. He was its food, but now he was also a challenge.

Its shoes scraped across the stone and it leapt.

Alex moved to guide its arm aside.

The arm turned to mist.

He jerked as the mist passed through his defences and solidified past his guard. He remembered something a little too late: ‘healthy mana vampires have expanded powers.’

Those terrible fingers wrapped around his throat.

A debilitating sensation washed through him and his mana pool began to drain in the creature’s hungry grip. Its other hand seized his arm when he tried to pull it away, then its tongue wrapped around his skull.

First, Thundar’s body-enhancement spell faded, then his mana began to flow out while he choked in the monster’s grip. Alex struggled with all that he had, reaching deep, using the most advanced mana regeneration techniques he knew.

As he struggled, he caught movement behind the mana vampire and his eyes grew wide. The creature seemed to grow smug and emitted a gurgling cackle.

‘That’s it…’ His thoughts raced desperately. ‘That’s it, focus on me, pay attention to me, you piece of shit!’

Scchnk!

The monster screamed.

Khalik had recovered enough to surprise the feeding creature with a thrust of his short sword into its back. Strange, blue glowing blood poured from its body as Khalik’s face twisted in anger.

It hissed, tossing Alex aside to land heavily on the stones. Whirling on the prince, its stab-wound—deep enough to kill anything natural—was already healing.

The prince drove his short sword into the monster’s belly this time, and his earth-covered fist into its face.

Crack!

It was a blow hard enough to shatter teeth, if it had any.

Its head snapped to the side, but its tongue instantly shot out and wrapped around Khalik’s arm. Mana drained from his earth armour, crumbling it away. The prince cried out as his mana also began to drain.

He pulled the short sword from its gut just as Alex reached into his bag and gripped a potion flask.

Schnk!

The prince stabbed at its tongue. It shrieked, releasing him and reeling back.

“Khalik!” Alex cried. “Get back!”

He raised the booby-trapped Potion of Flight and cocked an arm back. Khalik stumbled back, holding his arm and panting.

The mana vampire let out a terrifying screech and levelled an open hand at Khalik. Alex felt an enormous amount of mana pour into the air.

“Khalik, watch ou—”

Boom!

A wave of unseen mana blasted from the creature’s hand like a telekinetic battering ram, slamming into the prince. His remaining earth armour shattered, completely overwhelmed by the force, and Khalik was hurled away in a groaning heap.

“Damn you, you bastard!” Alex tossed the Potion of Flight at the monster’s feet.

Crack!

Glass crunched.

The gas shot up into the air, enveloping the mana vampire. Alex felt mana shift as the creature’s sucker-covered hands and tongue rapidly absorbed the potion.

“Fool!” it hissed. “You are only feedi—Aaaaaargh!”

Its hideous words collapsed into a scream as it was suddenly catapulted to the left by the booby-trapped Potion of Flight.

Bang! Crunch!

It screamed as what sounded like bone shattered from the impact.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Again and again, it shot left, right, up and down in the alleyway, slamming into walls and cobblestones.

Alex snarled in victory. “Yeah, suck on that, you sucker-tongued—”

His words died when it suddenly fell to the ground in a heap, the magic of the potion having lasted only seconds.

‘It must have absorbed the mana and ended the effect early,’ he thought as he searched his bag for another potion. He swore internally.

That had been his last one.

The mana vampire looked brutalized. One of its arms was bent at an unnatural angle and it was covered in bruising. A bulging eyeball had burst. That strange glowing blood poured from its wounds, although it was clear they were already healing.

Behind it, Alex saw Thundar stand and pick up his mace. He looked absolutely enraged.

Alex shouted. “Finish it! Finish it while it’s wounde—”

It moved too fast.

The mana vampire leapt at Alex, screeching in rage. The young wizard jumped to the side, but the monster was becoming used to his movements, and he was slower without the body-enhancement spell.

One of those sucker-covered hands wrapped his wrist.

Again, Alex’s mana began draining as the creature’s wounds began to heal.

Its other hand curled back

Bang!

It drove its fist into Alex’s stomach, knocking the breath from him, and drew back its fist.

Then Thundar was there, his mace swinging.

The monster released Alex, letting him collapse and whirled on Thundar, dodging to the side. Thundar pivoted, altering his swing. The creature was still wounded, and the minotaur was faster than he looked.

Crnch.

All of his spell-enhanced strength drove the mace into the creature’s side, launching it straight into one of the alley walls.

Oooooof!

The breath was knocked from it.

Thundar rushed in, the mace cocked back to finish what he’d started.

The creature raised both hands.

Boom!

The full force of a telekinetic blast ripped into Thundar as the mana vampire used its stolen mana, fighting to stay alive.

The mighty Thundar was blasted from his feet and slammed with full force into the wall behind him. Alex’s heart froze as he heard a crack.

The minotaur slumped down in a heap.

“No,” Alex moaned.

The monster staggered to its feet and dropped onto Thundar’s barely moving body, wrapping one of its hands and its tongue around his throat.

“No!” Alex cried, as he watched the mana vampire begin to drain his defenceless friend.

Chapter 67

A Hunger for Vengeance and Mana

Alex was using every ounce of will to try and get himself to his feet. His breath was laboured and his body damn near weighed a thousand tons. The mana drain was still hitting him.

His head swam, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Thundar and the creature draining his precious mana.

Panic surged through his thoughts.

Khalik was showing no sign of movement. His mana had been drained twice, first through Najyah, then as he defended them. When the creature had grabbed the prince, he’d been awake and able to resist it, but Thundar had been unconscious when it began draining him.

The magic of the body-enhancement spell vanished from the minotaur. Alex had to do something before his friend was out of time.

Growling, he surged to his feet and stumbled toward the mana-leeching monster. “Get off of him! Get off of him, or I’ll… I’ll kill you. I swear to all the gods!”

A commotion was growing near the alley. Voices were getting closer, but if the mana vampire put everyone to sleep…

Alex cursed the Mark. If only he could do something. If only he could just kill the thing that was killing his friend. His mind flashed back with bitter irony to what Selina said about him protecting them.

Protect who? The Mark didn’t even let him protect himself.

He had no more altered Potions of Flight to…

An idea hit him.

Alex snarled—drawing a Potion of Sensory Enhancement from his bag—and focused on the Mark, letting it guide his face from a snarl, to a look of seething rage, hatred, and intimidation.

“Prepare to go on another little trip, you piece of garbage!” he roared, drawing back his arm.

Alex knew well that the potion was harmless.

But the monster didn’t.

It whirled, spotting the container and recoiled, jumping away from Thundar.

Hissing and holding its broken arm, it glared at him uneasily. Its wounds were still healing, but much slower. All of the magic it used on each of them must have drained some of its stolen mana.

Alex advanced, stepping between it and Thundar.

“Back! Get back!” he roared.

As his voice boomed through the air, he heard the sound of armoured forms enter the alley behind him. More burst in on the opposite end.

The mana vampire glanced all around, then down at the fallen minotaur. It looked back at Alex, and if looks could drain mana, he would be dead. The creature scrambled aside and began climbing up the side of a wall. It favoured its broken arm, while the suckers on its other limbs and tongue gripped the rough stone, making sucking sounds as it crept up the building.

It was transforming as it fled, shapeshifting into someone new, then it disappeared over a rooftop.

“Hey, you there! Stop!” one of the guardsmen shouted in vain. Pointing to two of his companions, he gave them an order. “Go and circle the building, cut it off before it gets away again!”

With a groan, Khalik was slowly getting to his feet as several guards surrounded him to help him up.

Alex went to his other friend.

“Thundar!” he cried, crouching beside the minotaur.

The beastman’s breathing was laboured and his body was completely limp. Alex winced, touching Thundar’s brow; his body was cool.

“Oh, by Uldar! Help!” he cried, turning to the guards. “My friend’s been drained! He needs help!”

Alex looked at Khalik, whose lips were trembling through his beard.

The guards scrambled to Thundar, drawing mana-soothing potions from satchels. “We need to get him to the infirmary!”

A woman—with a shining badge that had the symbol of a book—began to cast a type of forcedisk large enough to carry Thundar’s body.

“We’ll need you to move away,” a guard said to Alex.

“He’s my frie—” Alex began, then stopped, realizing that getting in the way would only hurt Thundar’s chances. There was nothing he could do for him now.

So he rose and backed away from the injured minotaur, fighting to keep from hyperventilating.

Alex’s body was cold, yet sweat dripped from him.

His mind was whirling at what just happened.

It was like with Minervus. Random, cruel, out of nowhere and—in their case—almost deadly.

One moment, they were on their way to a celebration with friends at a restaurant. The next, they were fighting for their lives, and poor Thundar… now lay in an alleyway drained of enough mana to cripple him for life, possibly even kill him.

What was going to happen to him? Would he be able to use magic anymore? Would his mana pool be damaged to the point he’d have to leave Generasi?

Alex remembered Lucia.

Would that be Thundar? Doing some job that obviously made him miserable because some piece of shit monster decided to steal his future?

His mind filled with a sickening image of the mana vampire full of their stolen mana. Scampering away, changing into someone else to get close to more unsuspecting victims to do to them what it had done to Thundar, Minervus, him, Khalik, Najyah, and Uldar knows who else.

His teeth ground between his jaws, hard.

“M… f…” Khalik muttered, then continued in Tekish, his mother tongue. His eyes almost looked blank as he stared at Thundar as their friend was placed on the forcedisk. “My… my fault.”

“What?” Alex asked.

“It is my fault,” Khalik said softly. “If I hadn’t given him hell about his assignment, we would not have been late. If I had kept more of a watch on Najyah, she would not have been grabbed by that abomination.” He looked at Alex with eyes filled with horror. “Alex, I nearly killed our friend over an assignment.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do that,” Alex said. “It’s not your fault. It had nothing to do with you.”

“It did. The ripples of our actions always have consequences,” Khalik’s voice dropped. “Especially for those born to rulership.”

“No, you listen to me.” Alex pointed at Thundar through the knot of workers around him. Just looking at his weakened body made Alex want to punch a wall. “This happened because a piece of shit mana vampire attacked Najyah and us. We did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong.”

He glared at the wall that the mana vampire climbed. “I hope to all that’s holy they catch that thing and kill it before it stops leaking mana,” he said, remembering that the creatures were trackable only for a short time after they fed.

“Yes. There is truth in what you say,” Khalik’s expression darkened. “I was not myself… between the mana and the blow, I am not myself. I almost feel like…” He paused. “Najyah is getting close, but—”

Several guards interrupted them, offering them mana-soothing potions to drink. A feeling of relaxation washed through Alex’s mana pool as he drank his, spreading through the rest of his body. It would take time for the potions to stabilize their mana.

“So, what happened here—” one of the guards asked.

“By the elements!” Alex heard Isolde’s voice.

He looked toward the end of the alley.

The guards were keeping people from entering, and beyond, Alex caught sight of Isolde, Theresa, the hulking form of Grimloch, Nua-Oge and others. Najyah screeched overhead.

“Alex!” he heard Selina scream. “Alex!”

“I’m okay, Selina! Stay with Theresa. I’ll be there soon!”

What followed was an absolute whirlwind that left Alex’s mind reeling. He and Khalik answered what felt like a thousand questions, then had to reassure the guards and medic they had recovered enough before they could go.

All during their questioning, Khalik had been tense and deep in thought, muttering in Tekish. Recounting the story of the attack made Alex angrier and angrier as he remembered what that thing had done to them.

Finally, when all the guards’ questions were answered to their satisfaction, they were allowed to leave the alley.

Hugs and tears flowed as Selina flew on him. Theresa’s face was pale. Her eyes hardened when he and Khalik described what happened.

Everyone kept asking questions until Thundar’s body was taken from the alleyway. The group followed silently, stopping in the street—the guards wouldn’t let anyone approach Thundar since none of them were family—and waited. Something was said about a special sky-gondola coming to transport their friend for care.

In between the guards’ ranks, Alex could see Thundar: the minotaur looked no better than he had earlier, but his breathing at least appeared more even.

Theresa’s eyes grew even harder. Brutus nuzzled her side with two of his snouts and whimpered. Selina clung tightly to Alex’s hand, and Khalik stood quietly with Najyah perched on his arm, nuzzling his face.

Isolde glowered at thin air. “If that wretch were in front of me.” She thumbed the hilt of her stiletto knife. “I would stab its eyes out.”

Nua-Oge was sombre, as were Rhea, Malcolm and their other classmates. Grimloch was staring at Thundar’s body, his expression like a storm cloud.

All around, guards bustled through the area, moving past onlookers and searching everywhere. It seemed the mana vampire had escaped.

As they waited, Alex’s mana calmed, but he knew he was far from alright emotionally.

Pure, unadulterated rage coursed through him, clashing with maddening worry over his friend. A feeling of helplessness lay beneath all of his emotions. He couldn’t do anything to help make Thundar better, and he had no idea where the mana vampire had gone.

His jaw tightened.

It was the story of his life. Helpless against the fire that claimed his parents, helpless against Uldar’s will, and now helpless against a hungry mana leech.

“I want to hunt it,” Theresa said quietly. The rest of the group looked to her.

“Are… are you sure that’s a good idea?” Nua-Oge said, even as Grimloch was already nodding beside her.

“Yes. I do. I’m not a wizard: I’m a hunter. I have no mana to drain and I want it dead for what it’s done. Baelin even said we could take it under the right circumstances, and he looked at me, Svenia, Hogarth and Grimloch when he said it.”

Brutus whined at his master’s anger.

“Yeah, I want it dead too,” Alex agreed. “Baelin said we could take it if we had the right group. I want nothing more than to break its ugly, filthy face.”

“No.” Selina shook her head. “No, it’ll hurt you!”

Alex looked down at her. “It saw my fa—”

His words caught in his throat. The truth was, the mana vampire had glared at him with absolute hatred before it took off, and he had the feeling it wasn’t done with him. It could shapeshift and look like anyone. Once it processed the mana it stole, it would be impossible to track, and if it wasn’t stopped now, it could hunt him whenever it wanted. It could find Selina. It would always be a threat to many of them unless it was dead.

Life had been working out for him. Baelin was supporting him, and his cabal knew his secret… The last thing he wanted now was to be constantly looking over his shoulder for a vengeful, shapeshifting monster.

And he couldn’t tell Selina that. She was already scared for him, and she was a very brave little girl. In the end, she was still only ten years old.

“Trust me, Selina, I have to go. Otherwise, Theresa’ll have to go by herself.”

“No!” Selina screamed desperately. “I don’t want either of you to go! I don’t!”

He took a deep breath.

The mana-soothing potion was doing its work and he almost felt normal. He’d be able to act soon. His mana pool was still drained, but it was calm enough that he didn’t feel like collapsing at any moment.

“I think we should go after it,” Khalik said. “Honour, blood, our cabal… and our survival demands that we do—”

“No!” Selina cried. “I don’t want you to go either! I—”

She looked up as a sky-gondola—painted white, with the symbol of two snakes curling around a tower on the side—landed beside Thundar. Several healers clambered out and checked the minotaur before loading him into the gondola. It shot off into the sky at speed.

Alex prayed for his friend’s recovery, and the rest of the group fell into an angry and sad silence.

“We must go, Selina. At least, I must,” Khalik said. “It tried to hurt Najyah. It tried to hurt me, and your brother… and look what it did to Thundar. No more. I will see it broke—”

He looked at Najyah in surprise. Then he turned to Alex. “Alex… do you…?”

The prince paused again, turning in the middle of the street before his eyes went wide. “Oh, by my ancestors…”

“What is it?” Nua-Oge asked.

“I thought I was imagining it because of the mana drain, but now that the potion has done its work, I think I know where the creature is.”

The entire group looked at him.

“What? How?” Alex asked.

“I think… it’s still leaking mana… including my own, and Najyah’s,” he said.

“It got my mana too,” Alex said. “But I don’t feel anything.”

“My connection with Najyah and her mana is heightened. I focused on being able to sense it so she could not pull her tricks on me anymore, and I feel it now, still leaking from that bastard. I am used to sensing my own mana within Najyah from great distances. Perhaps that is why I can feel it.”

“Where is it?” Theresa demanded.

He closed his eyes. “It will not be with pinpoint accuracy the way my connection directly to Najyah would be, and it grows weaker… I think I could find the general location if I move quickly.” He gripped his sword. “We should go and finish it.”

“Yes,” Theresa said, also gripping her blades. “It needs to be finished off.”

“We should tell the guards,” Nua-Oge said.

“We should do both,” Alex said.

His mind was working now.

Thinking. Adapting.

The mana vampire was wounded, and if they could track it, the element of surprise would no longer be on its side. They would have it. Then, they could kill it. Khalik could tell the guards its whereabouts, and then they could go after it themselves.

“You know what?” Theresa said, looking at Grimloch first. “You want to go on a hunt?”

“Always,” the shark man said.

“Good.” She went to Khalik. “Tell me where it is. Maybe even guide us there. Grimloch, Brutus and I can move fast. Very fast. If we make a team with as few wizards as possible, it’ll have less mana to drain. That’ll be a bad match-up for it, and a good one for us.”

“No way I’m not coming with you!” Alex said. “I’m not letting you go after it by yourselves.”

“Alex, no!” Selina cried. “Not you either, Theresa!”

“Selina, I—” he started.

“Selina’s right, Alex,” Theresa said quietly. “That’s not a good idea. Less wizards means less people to stuff it full of mana—”

His mind caught on her last words.

“—and feed it. And think about Selina.”

“But I—”

She was right. If they both went after this thing together—and things went horribly—they could both die. Then what would happen to Selina? Mr. and Mrs. Lu would come for her, but that could mean months where she would be all alone. Months where she’d be alone and sent off to Uldar knows where while grieving more deaths of the people closest to her. It would devastate her.

His emotions had been driving him and he wasn’t in his best frame of mind, considering everything that just happened. He’d already been in one fight with the thing he was considering going after, and it had already drained his mana. He shook his head and took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. What he needed to be doing was thinking clearly and getting his sister to safety. A plan for the mana vampire was beginning to form in his mind, but he could think more about that later.

“You’re both right, I should get you home, Selina.”

“Yeah, Alex!” Selina said. “Don’t go either, Theresa, I don’t want either of you to go! You don’t even have the go—”

She caught herself before she said ‘golem.’

But he’d heard it. The golem. Mana. His mind began to work faster.

“A fox hunt goes best when you have as many hunters as possible to corner your quarry. Like how we chased xyrthak near the mana vent,” Theresa was saying. “We’re not helpless and we’ll be careful, Selina. I saw its blood in the alley. If it bleeds, we can take it.”

Mana vent. Wild mana. Powerful. Intense. Deadly if unprocessed, and very few things could properly—

His mind continued to work.

“Then we had better move quickly,” Khalik said. “Come, let us get to a sky-gondola and see this little one to safety. Afterwards, Theresa, Grimloch, Brutus and I will need to get after it before it finishes processing our mana completely.”

Processing… mana.

An idea unfolded.

A deliciously cruel idea.

One that would ensure this thing suffered for what it had done, while also taking care of something he’d been working on for too long.

“There’s no time to waste, then,” Alex said, looking down at Selina. “Let’s get you back home.”

He looked at Theresa, walked up to her and gave her a hug. “Be careful and come back safe and sound.”

“I will,” she said, her voice like iron.

“Then I shall join the hunt too,” Isolde said.

“Actually, Isolde, sky-gondolas can fly in the Barrens, right? There’s enough ambient mana there to let them fly, right?”

“Why yes, why not?” Isolde said. “But the gondolier would have to be desperate to bring one there.”

“Even if it was only going close to the wall and not directly into the Barrens? Close to a wall where we knew the most dangerous thing living there had been cleared out?” Alex asked, smiling.

Isolde’s eyes widened. “Alex, why—”

“I’ll explain everything in a bit. But first, let’s get to the closest sky-pier. I need to look for a gondolier named Lucia. If she agrees to my proposal, I’ll hire her for a sack of gold coins if she meets us at the sky-pier near Shale’s Workshop with the biggest sky-gondola she can get her hands on.”

“What… what are you thinking, Alex?” Khalik asked.

“If we do this right and we get to the mana vampire first, not only will this thing feel exactly what it did to Thundar, Najyah, us, Minervus, and all of its other victims,” Alex growled. “But I’ll have a fully powered golem by the end of the night.” His face took on a wicked grin.

Khalik’s eyes widened. “I want to know more about this, but tell me as we walk.” He glanced at the thinning crowds around them. “My connection to the creature weakens. The longer we take, the less chance to hunt it. And the more chance it has to hide again… and hunt us.”

Chapter 68

Escape and Hunting

The group rushed through the streets toward the sky-pier, the atmosphere growing more tense with every step.

The jingle of guards’ armour as they searched the city was punctuated by the sound of doors slamming all throughout the surrounding streets. Folks kept moving, looking nervously at shadows.

Hunters—both amateur and professional—from all across the city were starting to appear, boiling out of alleyways with weapons drawn. The bounty and word of the attack brought out the greedy and the brave, while the cautious moved out of their way.

Night was deepening and—as lights were snuffed out in store windows and townhouses—the darkness grew thicker. Only street lamps and the magic lanterns of night-running sky-gondolas were left to light the way. These, and the few light spells, firelights, or forceballs the group of students conjured.

Alex glanced above. There were plenty of sky-gondolas zooming by with panicked passengers and nervous drivers. He wondered if the sky-pier would be crowded, or if the majority of people had already gotten away.

Holding tightly to a terrified Selina as they moved closer to the sky-pier, he kept a sharp eye on their surroundings.

“Khalik,” he said. “Do you still feel it?”

The prince was frowning. “I do, but it is growing fainter. Harder to pinpoint.”

“Is it getting farther away or closer?”

“Closer, perhaps.”

Selina gasped and Alex tried to calm her.

Then he turned to Isolde. “From what you know, mana vampires shouldn’t be able to tolerate the mana vents, right?”

“No. Wild mana is hard to process for almost anything. Mana vampires have some of the best ability to process mana of any creature. They can process wild mana, but not quickly enough to stop it from burning out their mana-processing organ and killing them in time.”

“Right.” Alex nodded. “But it can process some of it. Good. Good.”

“Hmmm.” Theresa frowned. “Alex, you said it changed to look like someone else before it got away?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see its face when it finished shapeshifting. Why?”

“When an animal bolts, it tries to take the quickest path to safety, right? What would be one of the best and quickest ways to get out of this part of the city?”

“…Crap, a sky-gondola. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Then that is where we shall have to be most vigilant,” Khalik said. “We are two streets away from the closest sky-pier, I think. And the creature… though it is getting harder to feel now, I think it is closer.”

“We watch anyone that’s there,” Theresa said. “We don’t get too close to anybody unless we have to. If there’s a line-up, I say Selina gets on first with Alex, then the wizards who aren’t staying in the city with us. We don’t want to give this thing a buffet.”

The others murmured in agreement.

“The square around the sky-pier is pretty open,” Theresa said. “If we find it around there, that’ll be a good place to fight it ’cos there’re less buildings for it to climb, and less cover for it to use. Brutus, Grimloch and I can surround it and bring it down. Khalik and Isolde can keep at a safe distance until we subdue it—if we don’t kill it, that is.” She glanced at Alex. “Your plan… I’m not sure if we’ll be able to do it, though.”

“Only if you think you can,” Alex said. “If it gets too dangerous, you guys just kill it. Nothing’s worth letting it get away.”

She nodded, scanning their surroundings like she had in Coille Forest.

The entire situation felt familiar to Alex. Heading toward a potentially dangerous route of escape, trying to keep Selina safe, and watching for a dangerous monster that might kill them if they got caught unawares.

There were some major differences, though.

He was tired, but stronger. They had more friends. Theresa was far deadlier. This time around, it wasn’t a case of three vulnerable people and one cerberus watching for a predator. This time, they were a party of experienced young warriors and wizards who could deal as much damage as they could take.

Khalik swore suddenly in his mother tongue. “I’m sorry,” he groaned. “It’s gone. I cannot feel it anymore.”

“I suspected it would fade soon enough,” Isolde said. “Were it so easy to track for a long period of time, the creature would have been caught months ago.”

“Yes, I know,” Khalik said. “But I thought with my connection to my mana that I built through Najyah, I thought that it might…” He swore again in Tekish. “I am sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Alex said, using the language of Khalik’s homeland of Tekezash. His words were still a bit halting, but over the months, the Mark had helped him gain some proficiency. He switched back to the common tongue. “We probably would’ve had to have started tracking it sooner, which we couldn’t. It was still worth a shot, though. When did you last feel it?”

“Farther away from us,” Khalik said. “To the south. I don’t know why, but it changed direction near the end of my connection with it.”

Theresa frowned. “Was it moving in a straight line or was it erratic? Like it was zig-zagging and going all over the place?”

“The latter, why?”

“When you’re trying to throw off someone who’s following you, the best thing to do is not go in a straight line. Take the fastest route to safety, but try and not make your path easy to follow. You double back, then go forward, zigzag, go through water if you can, anything that can confuse a tracker and throw them off your trail.”

“So it might still be coming this way,” Alex noted. “Now what?”

“…You said it was wounded?” Theresa asked.

“Yeah. My potion broke its arm and messed it up pretty good. I guess it might be able to hide its injuries, maybe fix them. But healing itself seems to take up mana, so it might still have the big injury: the broken arm.”

“Right…” She frowned. “If it doesn’t, we need something else, then… I think I have an idea. Okay, it touched you, Khalik and Najyah, right? Did any of you bleed?”

Alex shook his head. “No. It punched me in the stomach, but that’s it. Khalik, are you bleeding?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I did stab it, though, so I have some of its blood on my short sword.”

“That will not do any good,” Isolde said. “A mana vampire’s shapeshifting is some of the most thorough of any creature in this world. Only a few others—such as doppelgängers—can match it. It changes everything about itself, including its smell.”

“That’s alright,” Theresa said. “It should have Najyah’s scent on it and probably Khalik’s too from where it touched them. You two were fighting it, so it would have gotten some of your sweat on its hands.”

“Faint scent,” Grimloch said.

“It would be,” Theresa agreed. “It would be useless for tracking… but up close? To something with three sensitive noises? Something that knows Najyah’s scent, Khalik’s and especially Alex’s?” She patted Brutus on one of his heads. “It’ll be obvious. Here’s what I’m thinking.”

She pointed ahead. They were getting closer to the square where the sky-pier was.

“When we get there, I’ll take Brutus and go and just walk around. Get close to people without getting too close. If the mana vampire shows, the fact that some random woman is there with a cerberus shouldn’t make it suspicious ’cos it’s never seen me before. I’ll have Brutus sniff around.”

She looked at the massive cerberus. “Bark if you smell Alex, Khalik or Najyah on anyone, okay?”

Brutus nuzzled her in acknowledgement.

“Good idea,” Alex said, digging a Potion of Sensory Enhancement from his bag. “Give this to Brutus; it’ll sharpen his nose even more. If the mana vampire doesn’t show up in the square—and I hope it doesn’t—then this’ll help Brutus track our scents on it, and give you a better chance of hunting it down later.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the potion.

If things were less tense, it would’ve been almost comical watching Theresa pull out a small, tin water bowl, filling it with potion and then coaxing Brutus to drink as they walked.

He shook the humorous thought from his head as they entered the square.

“That is not good,” Nua-Oge murmured.

The sky-pier was crowded.

A huge clot of people surrounded it on all sides, keeping distant from each other, and glancing around with distrustful eyes. At the sky-pier itself, several of the city guards were checking people over as they boarded sky-gondolas.

Alex looked up and saw an endless line of the sky-gondolas embarking and disembarking from the pier. In some ways, he was surprised to see so many sky-gondoliers: they were running the risk of possibly taking a mana vampire aboard their boat and transporting it to safety, if it didn’t kill anyone else on board who had mana first.

Then again, there was a golden opportunity to make a lot of coin from people fleeing the area, heading in all directions.

As they entered the square, they joined the masses.

“Right,” Grimloch said. “I’m going to circle all these people. See if I see or smell anything strange.”

“We’ll separate too,” Theresa said.

“Be careful,” Selina whimpered.

“Yeah, be careful,” Alex echoed his sister.

She gave them a grim nod and stepped away.

That left Alex with Khalik, Isolde, Nua-Oge and some of the other wizards from Baelin’s class. Shiani looked around cautiously, as did Caramiyus and Angelar. Malcolm, Eyvinder, Rhea and Rayne had been busy with other plans.

“Ach,” Isolde said. “I should have let Hogarth and Svenia accompany us. I thought with such a number of us, I wouldn’t need them. Who would have known we would need their steady hands and heads tonight?”

“Well, we work with what we got,” Alex said, watching everyone around them. “We have to think, adapt and use anything we can to achieve our goal.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence only broken by Selina’s quiet whimpers.

Alex glanced at the cross section of streets, trying to think of a likely place it could come from. They had come from the street to the south, which lay in the same direction as the attack. The first place he’d considered it would come from was there, but if it was trying to lose its pursuers and confuse trackers, then it’d likely come from somewhere else.

‘North?’ he wondered. ‘The exact opposite direction. No, maybe that would be too obvious.’

He didn’t have enough information to work with. None at all, as a matter of fact. It’d be impossible for him to predict where it was coming from without knowing more about how it thought and how it moved.

His eyes turned to the east. Down the street—just out of sight—was Shale’s Workshop. Would it have gone there? There were plenty of golems and wizards there. It would be a good place to draw mana and replenish its stores. Then again, Shale’s was well-defended by security golems, and many of the crafters knew their way around a fi—

‘You’re doing it again,’ Alex thought. ‘Clear your mind. You can’t guess where it’s coming from. The only thing you can do is keep a lookout.’

He eyed the crowd. It was starting to thin toward the centre as the guards allowed more and more people to pass. There were few people coming from the streets around the area; seemed most had already fled.

‘Look for someone that seems to recognize me,’ he thought. ‘The mana vampire might be surprised to see me here. Look for that momentary reaction.’

He scanned the crowd carefully, looking for—

“Get back!” he heard Angelar bark.

The entire group spun around to see the doberman beastman snarling at a portly man who had stepped too close to them.

“Right, right! Sorry!” the terrified man said, holding his hands up and stepping away.

Others in the crowd watched him and tried to step farther apart without losing their place in the loose line-up.

“Steady, steady.” Caramiyus placed his hand on Angelar’s shoulder.

Alex felt Selina squeeze his hand.

“Alex…” she murmured. “Are we going to be okay?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be just fine,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, absolutely. We’ll make that mean mana vampire go away if we see it.”

“Do not worry, Selina,” Shiani added in her gentle way. “The spirit of fire will gird us and see us through this. It will guard us against our enemies.”

Selina flinched, then nodded.

Suddenly, what sounded like a pack of dogs barking shattered the quiet.

The entire group whirled.

“Get your beast away from me!” a woman screamed.

Alex looked toward her voice. Brutus was growling and advancing on a portly woman with grey hair, who was stumbling back from him. Her hands were raised as if to shield herself. Neither of her arms looked to be obviously broken, but one arm was raised much higher than the other. That hand moved more freely as well. “Stay away!” she cried, seemingly in distress.

Theresa was glaring at the woman. Her hand went to her sword.

“Hey!” one of the guards cried. “Control that beast! The last thing we need is a panic!”

The clothes were different. The form was different. The mana vampire had been a man dressed in fine tailored trousers and a jacket. This was a woman in a rough peasant’s dress with a shawl around her shoulders. The creature had been escaping capture for so long because of one key trait—its cunning.

Alex took a deep breath. “Hey! Hey you!” he shouted.

The woman startled and whirled, her eyes catching Khalik and Alex’s faces. It was only for an instant, but a look of surprise flicked across her face.

“It’s her!” Alex shouted. “She’s the one, Theresa!”

Theresa’s sword came out of its sheath in an instant.

“What?” the woman cried. “No!”

“Hey, break that up!” the guards shouted, pushing through the crowd toward the commotion. Civilians tried to move out of their way.

“Don’t move!” the guard cried again.

But Theresa was already leaping forward, her blade swinging.

The old woman held on to that look of terror for an instant longer before her face went slack.

Sqlch.

People screamed.

The woman’s hands changed, sprouting those tentacled suckers.

Chapter 69

The Beating

Khalik gasped. “Theresa! Brutus! Get away—”

Boom!

Mana blasted toward the huntress and cerberus in a telekinetic wave.

Brutus yelped as it slammed into him, pushing the massive cerberus back along the cobblestones, his nails scraping the uneven surface. His entire body shook as he tried to clear his heads.

“Brutus!” Theresa cried, spinning out of the worst of the wave and darting forward, thrusting her great-grandfather’s curved blade.

The mana vampire tried to leap back, but steel found its side, slicing the flesh in a push-cut and drawing blood. It shrieked.

Disturbingly red blood oozed, but did not remain red for long.

The monster warped back into its true, hideous form, sending screams erupting through the crowd. When the city guards realized they were finally seeing the thing they had sought for months, they were stunned into inaction. They gaped at the mana vampire before finally trying to push through the press of panicked civilians, frantically blowing their whistles. Many of the sky-gondoliers took to the sky and fled, but others remained hovering at a safe altitude high above, watching the battle unfolding below.

“Dammit!” Khalik swore. “We have to get out of the—”

It was too late. The crowd rushed toward the group of young wizards, the press of bodies separating them.

“Alex!” Selina screamed as her hand was nearly pulled from his grip, but he bent and quickly scooped her up, holding her close.

“I’ve got you!” he shouted. “Hold on to me! Hold on tight!”

Little hands grasped his clothes as her arms wrapped around him as tightly as they could. He grimaced as she screamed near his ear. The rest of the group was forced apart, caught up in the stampeding crowd.

Grimloch went charging around the mob, looking to flank the mana vampire.

The shapeshifting monster shrugged off its clothes and scrambled back from Theresa, but the huntress was leaping into its guard.

It was panicked.

While Alex—enhanced by Thundar’s spell—and it had been evenly matched in speed, Theresa was faster than either of them. Her sword flickered—flashing in the eerie light of the sky-gondoliers’ lanterns—and the creature only barely escaped losing a limb or being disembowelled.

More and more cuts appeared on its flesh, and they were healing far slower than when it had fought Khalik, Alex and Thundar in the alleyway. Repeatedly, it tried raising its hands to blast Theresa with mana, but each time, the huntress’ blade swung out to punish it for taking the risk.

And from one of her strikes—

Schnk!

—the creature shrieked as a tentacled finger was sliced off its outstretched hand. The digit flew through the air, spurting blood.

Growling, Brutus recovered from the telekinetic blast, and the enraged cerberus charged around to flank it.

With a shriek of panic, its entire body turned to mist, and both cerberus jaws and steel blades passed through it. It swirled, shimmering back into solid form, then rushing toward the fleeing crowd.

Alex felt mana shift in the air, and suddenly, the glow from its blood dimmed.

“Theresa!” Alex shouted. “It’s using its sleep magic!”

The mana vampire’s magic washed out of it in a wave.

Brutus collapsed and Theresa stumbled, shaking her head to clear the exhaustion. Even Grimloch—coming closer to the battle—fell to the ground. Selina’s grip on his shoulders tightened.

Others in close proximity to the creature crumpled in sleep. Those with them—lucky enough to be untouched by the magic—reacted with horror and fear, shouting incantations in retaliation.

“No, don’t!” Alex shouted, but his words couldn’t penetrate blind panic.

Magic bolts shot at the mana vampire, while the creature’s lightning-fast limbs snatched them from the air. The spells disappeared, sucked into its hands.

Its blood glowed brighter.

Stronger now, its wounds began closing as it leapt upon its victims, draining their mana. They shrivelled like ancient corpses. Guards were still fighting their way through the panicking masses, the crowd too thick to chance firing crossbow bolts at the feeding monster.

“Najyah!” Alex heard Khalik. The plaited head of the prince rose above the crowd. “Go, wake Grimloch and Brutus!” he shouted in Tekish.

The massive eagle shot toward the shark man and cerberus. Alex began conjuring a forceball; it might be able to help wake people as well. As he guided his thoughts through the Mark to better his aim, he could only watch as the mana vampire continued to drink its fill until, finally, the guards burst through the crowd.

Theresa recovered and dashed for it. With seemingly little effort, the creature hoisted a sleeping victim, continuing to drain him as it used the poor fellow as a living shield.

The guards halted and the mana vampire heaved its victim at them, then lashed out with another invisible wave of sleep. Most of the guards instantly collapsed and Theresa stumbled.

It whirled on her, and its tongue lolled out of its mouth. Alex looked at its broken arm, realizing it had healed, along with most of the other injuries. Its hands warped in shape.

Schnk.

Alex’s heart stopped. “Theresa! Watch out!”

Claws burst from its fingertips—each at least a foot long—and it lunged at the recovering huntress. Theresa parried its rush of claws, but now she was on the defensive. Mana poured out of its skin and outlined its flesh, just like a body-enhancement spell.

The creature’s reactions quickened.

Theresa concentrated, her speed growing as well.

The young huntress and the monster fought evenly for a time—with blade clashing against mana-hardened claws—and time was on the young woman’s side.

The crowd was finally dispersing from the square, giving Alex, Khalik, Isolde, Nua-Oge, Shiani, Angelar and Caramiyus room to manoeuvre.

Najyah landed beside Grimloch and pecked at the shark man to wake him and Alex finished casting his forceball. He shot it straight to the sleeping cerberus, nudging Brutus gently to wake him.

The mana vampire hissed when it saw more attackers. Another wave of sleep slammed out. Najyah slumped onto Grimloch, and both he and the cerberus stopped moving.

Alex cursed as Theresa fought against its conjured exhaustion. She warily parried a flurry of claws with her sword and hunting knife. The creature drove her back with another quick telekinetic blast then rushed toward more sleeping victims.

“Get back, monster!” Khalik shouted, shooting a swarm of sharp rocks toward the thing. Leaping out of the way of the stones, it glared at Khalik then scanned its surroundings.

Alex’s eyes narrowed.

‘You can drain the magic from spells,’ he thought. ‘But you’re not immune from physical objects if they actually hit you even if they’ve been conjured by magic, are you?’

Theresa moved between it and the closest escape route.

Alex conjured a rock from the elemental plane of earth and gripped it tightly.

“If you’ve got anything solid to conjure and throw at it, use those kinds of spells!” he shouted to his companions.

The creature glared his way and began to charge.

Alex gasped, backing away, holding tightly to Selina.

Theresa went pale and chased after it.

Selina screamed.

Then their companions stepped in.

The creature stumbled to the side as Shiani abruptly shot a spear of hardened obsidian at it, then it ducked low as Isolde launched a pair of conjured iron spikes.

They missed and it straightened up.

Bang!

The monster yelped, stumbling backward as Nua-Ogre smashed it in the chest with a chunk of frozen sea-water the size of one of Thundar’s fists.

“Ek-u-Dari curses you, monster!” Nua-Oge roared. “She curses you into the depths of a maelstrom!”

The creature hissed, healing itself.

Schnk!

The hiss turned to a screech.

As its healing was complete and it prepared to charge again, Theresa caught it, her blade slashed across its back.

The mana vampire dropped to all fours and scrambled away; its limbs moving unnaturally, like some sort of humanoid crab. The wound on its back was sealing over, but Alex could tell its blood was losing the glow as it retreated from Theresa; the stolen mana was waning.

It had to spring away from a swarm of sharpened rocks Khalik shot at it. One found its target, piercing deep into its side. It shrieked and stiffened, covering the wound. The huntress darted in close, her blades raised to take advantage.

Suddenly, its hands shot up, blasting another wave of telekinetic force.

Bam!

Alex and Selina screamed. Khalik, Isolde, and the other wizards cried out in alarm.

Theresa was catapulted through the air and crashed onto the cobblestones. Her sword flew from her hand. The mana vampire ran straight for her, and pounced—

Schnk!

—right onto the point of Theresa’s hunting knife.

With both hands gripping the hilt of the large blade, she let the creature’s weight do the work, sliding onto the steel as it came down. Its eyes flew wide as its mouth let out a wail of agony. Wasting no time, Theresa shoved it aside, then followed up with a heavy kick to the knee that sounded like the crack of a firework.

The mana vampire gurgled and choked, rising up and easing the blade from its belly, and dragged its shuddering form away. The stomach wound began to close, but the glow of its blood dimmed further.

“That’s it!” Alex cheered. “Get him, Theresa! Beat him down!”

Hearing the changing sounds of the battle and Alex’s cheer, Selina turned her head around.

And she watched.

The mana vampire was panting. Two fights in one night and being hunted was eating away at its mana.

It looked around in desperation as Theresa got up—death in her eyes—and stalked toward it, looking at her fallen sword.

Even though it still had its deadly claws to attack with, it continued to limp away from her, focusing on healing itself. Another invisible wave of sleep drifted from it, but this time, Theresa merely dismissed it with a shake of her head and kept advancing.

Its focus was narrowed on her, ignoring its surroundings. Alex looked at the stirring forms of Brutus and Grimloch, awakened by his forceball a safe distance from the range of the sleep magic.

Oblivious to everything but the approaching Theresa, the mana vampire focused all its attention on this one pursuer, swiping at her, trying to keep her at bay, and then—

Schnk!

It screamed.

One of Isolde’s iron spikes pierced its back, and the impact spun it around. Shiani’s obsidian spear slashed it across the side. Its blood dimmed as it desperately concentrated its stolen mana on healing.

Its focus left Theresa for an instant.

A mistake.

She darted within its guard, her fist driving out, burying itself in the monster’s gut. It doubled over in pain.

Crack!

Her knee shot up, smashing squarely into its chin.

The mana vampire’s skull whipped back, flinging it backward. She went to retrieve her sword and knife, leaving it for a moment. The creature rose to its feet, taking the moment to try for escape.

It turned and hobbled… right into Brutus’ waiting jaws.

Crnch!

Two of the cerberus’ mouths snapped down on an arm, and the crunch of shattering bone along with its scream ripped through the square. Brutus shook the thing like a dirty rag, snapping the jaws of his third head at its other arm to keep its flailing claws away.

Shrieking and dripping dimming blood, the mana vampire fought to get away from Brutus.

Scchrrrrp!

Its arm tore off.

Blood sprayed through the air. Barely a glow remained. The wound feebly worked to heal, trying to keep it from bleeding out in the town square.

It moved away from the cerberus and a re-armed Theresa, turning to get to the nearest street. Grimloch—twitching with rage—rushed toward it, cutting off its escape.

It changed direction, running awkwardly from all of them, yelping in fear. It was still naturally fast, and the last of the mana enhancing it had yet to fade. But it was barely managing to keep ahead of them.

And the path it was on brought it right toward the line of young wizards from Baelin’s class.

“Move!” Khalik cried and they scattered, but Alex—carrying his sister—moved a half-step slower.

The creature’s eyes glinted with malice and recognition when it saw him. It went directly for him—and Selina.

Selina screamed.

Panic surged through Alex. The thing was smart. It knew how to press any advantage it could find. Seeing him with his mana and a child—

His blood froze.

A child who also had mana.

It would drain them both.

Its pursuers wouldn’t get to it in time. Khalik was yelling something.

Theresa was screaming. Selina was screaming.

His classmates were shouting.

What did he have?

The rock. He still had the rock gripped in one hand.

Concentrating on the idea of throwing, he activated the Mark, which called up memories of throwing objects all the way back to when he’d tossed coins to distract the crowd at the gates of Alric.

Focusing on the motion and maximizing its precision, he lightly tossed the rock forward. It missed the mana vampire, rolling on the ground before it.

But he wasn’t aiming for it.

In its headlong rush toward food and salvation, it stepped directly on the rolling rock. The monster lost footing, falling forward and crashing onto the cobblestones.

It tried scrambling to its feet as Alex stepped back, holding his little sister and looking at the creature closely. “Try looking up,” he advised.

A massive shadow fell over the monster.

Almost reluctantly, it looked up.

Grimloch loomed above, his massive fist cocked back. His shark lips parted in a toothy grin. “Smile, you son of a—”

Bang!

His gigantic fist crashed into its head like a falling star.

Boom!

Its skull slammed into the cobblestones so hard, it actually bounced. Then Grimloch’s other fist fell.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The shark man smashed its chest and shoulders into the cobblestones again and again, driving the breath from it, bruising flesh and snapping bone. Then Theresa was on it, stomping on its legs until they cracked and turned at crooked angles. Brutus swept in and savaged its remaining arm, tearing it apart from the elbow down.

The wizards watched grimly—even Selina—as they beat the creature within an inch of its life. With a quick command to Brutus, Theresa and the cerberus backed off, and Grimloch followed a moment later.

At last, the creature that had terrorized Generasi for months was brought down and captured.

It hadn’t fallen to some brave Hero’s flashing longsword, or a hunter’s spear, or a clever archwizard’s ingenious trap. In the end, the mana vampire was brought down by a bunch of angry young wizards, with a good and well-deserved beating for their friend it tried to kill.

Alex nodded grimly at the creature. “Sleep well, you scum-sucking leech. You’re in for a bad night. And it’s only just beginning.”

Chapter 70

Preparing the Specimen

To say the mana vampire had seen better days would be an understatement. It would likely be dead already if its battered body weren’t using its last dregs of stolen mana to cling to life.

One of its arms had been torn away, leaving nothing more than a stump from partway down its bicep. Its other arm—while still attached—was broken in three places and had been shredded by cerberus fangs. Mana had been able to only close the wounds slightly, leaving a discoloured mess of thin-looking skin over ragged, gaping wounds.

The creature was so bruised, very little of its original skin colour remained. It was mostly a blue-purplish shade from head to toe. Its legs had been snapped by the ferocious stomping Theresa had given it with her enhanced strength and were bent at horrifying angles.

Alex squinted.

He could swear he saw Grimloch-sized fist imprints throughout its torso. It twitched occasionally and was breathing, but was definitely unconscious—but, if it should wake up, he doubted it would be going anywhere anytime soon.

“How gruesome,” Isolde said. “I would almost feel sorry for the creature had it not done what it did to Thundar.”

Angelar growled. “I almost want to finish.” He looked at Alex. “You say your plan’s going to make it suffer?”

“Oh yeah,” Alex said. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Good,” Caramiyus said.

Khalik walked over to the creature and spat on it. “For Thundar and Najyah.” He looked at Alex. “Now let us be done with this.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, then looked at Selina. “Do you want to get down now?”

She nodded and slowly slid down to stand on the cobblestones. The little girl was staring at the fallen creature, her jaw hardened. “Serves it right for hurting Thundar, and you, and Khalik and Najyah, and Theresa and Brutus and everyone else like that.”

Alex glanced at his sister.

Well, that was a bit of a bloodthirsty statement. Where had that come from?

He frowned, thinking about what she’d been exposed to in the past half year. Being hunted by monsters and seeing them killed in the Cave of the Traveller. The mana vampire being killed by Fan-Dor and Gel-Dor. Alex’s stories about the monsters Baelin’s class had fought and killed in the Barrens of Kravernus.

Recently, she’d also heard about Minervus’ murder. And now, this attack.

Selina had been exposed to an awful lot of violence in the past short while. He would need to have a talk with her about it.

The guards began to wake up, groaning and blinking as they did. They first checked in with one other, finding out which hadn’t been knocked out and knew what happened in the town square while the rest were out cold. Then, some went to offer aid to people the mana vampire had drained, providing flasks of mana soothing potions to help their recovery. Some folks were beyond help, so the guards called for transport for those bodies, and also got help for anyone needing to go to the infirmary.

Others moved toward Alex’s group, who were standing around the mana vampire, their eyes warily on it.

“I’m Guard Captain Giorno. Is this thing dead?”

“No,” Alex said. “But it’s definitely subdued. Broken legs. Ripped-up arms, and it’s low on mana to heal itself from the look of it. We’ll tie it up as soon as we get some rope, but we’re watching it closely.”

Alex prepared himself for resistance, wondering if the guards would kill it on the spot.

“Right, it does look properly subdued.” The guard captain went over and kicked it to make sure it wasn’t conscious. “Ya, I’d say it’s properly subdued alright. Are you wizard students from the university, because a couple of my men said your group was casting spells at it?”

“Some of us are, some aren’t. Why?” Alex answered.

“Well, because since you’re wizards, will you be taking it away to claim it under the Right to Specimens, and assuming all responsibilities therein?” the guardsman asked.

“Uh, the what now?” Alex asked.

The guard gave him a look, then pulled out a booklet from one of his satchels. “Right, first time capturing a dangerous monster in Generasi, eh? Well, the Right to Specimens is under Section 3.1.7 of the Code of Punitive Measures Against Monsters: any resident of Generasi may claim a monster that is under bounty by the city—living or dead—for the purposes of dissection, vivisection, alchemical extraction, research or sacrifice.”

He turned the page. “The monster will be recorded as being under your custody and if it harms anyone during that time, you will be held in full responsibility for its actions. You have one day and one night to appear before a public officer with proof of the monster’s destruction, or to apply for an extension to the period of custody. Note that failure to do either of these actions will result in a fine no less than five hundred gold pieces plus the current bounty levied for the monster. Will it be you that’s taking custody?”

Alex glanced around as all of his friends took a large step away from him. “…Yes.”

“Perfect, then we shall need your name and a few signatures once the investigation team arrives.”

‘Right,’ he thought. ‘City of Wizards. Of course they’d have a clause for researching captured monsters. What else would a wizard want to do with one?’

He glanced down at the mana vampire, remembering how the one on Fan-Dor’s ship had turned to mist after they’d killed it. He was glad it simply evaporated because had it lived, claiming it and bringing it to Generasi with him would have been a little awkward.

‘And on that note, it’s time to get things rolling.’

The paperwork took some time, but—by the end—Alex was technically the custodian or owner of one mana vampire. The investigators took statements from everyone present and loaded the victims into more white sky-gondolas.

Eventually, Alex’s group was finally given leave to go about their business.

The next issue was Selina.

“I don’t want to go; I want to stay with you!” she yelled, stomping her foot.

“There’s no way,” he told her. “You’re going back to campus. Shiani was very nice and said that she would take you there, okay?”

“No, please let me stay, please!” she begged. “Please!”

“No way, little goblin. We’re going to that dangerous place we go to with Baelin. It’s safe there for us, but too dangerous for you. If everything goes well, we won’t be gone long and be back in about an hour or two. Then you can come with us for some of the next part since we’ll be doing that on campus, okay? It’ll be much safer if you’re with Shiani for now. And—if you go back to campus—we’ll be safer too because we won’t have to watch out for as many people.”

Her lips trembled and she looked like she was on the verge of an outburst of temper—something she hadn’t done for half a decade or more—but she finally sniffed a couple of times, swallowed, then nodded. “You’d better be back soon.”

“I will,” he said, bending and kissing her on the forehead. “I will.”

He let her join Shiani, Angelar, and Caramiyus on their way back to campus. Alex and the remainder of the group waved as they departed on a sky-gondola.

Then Isolde turned to them.

“I…” She grimaced. “I want to join you in the Barrens, but I worry for Thundar. I think I shall go to the infirmary and see if the fact that we are in a cabal together will at least let them tell me how he is, even if I can’t see him.” She glared at the mana vampire. “Please ensure its last moments are miserable.”

“You bet I will, and now, the streets will be safer too,” Alex said, gripping her shoulder. “We’ll come and see Thundar as soon as we can, if they let us in. And by the way, good job tonight.”

She nodded and left to board another sky-gondola.

That left Theresa, Khalik, Najyah, Grimloch, Brutus and Nua-Oge with Alex.

“So we’re going to finish this together, then?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Theresa said, glaring at the brutalized monster.

“Right, watch this thing for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

He moved quickly, running down the street.

Shale’s Workshop—closed to the public, but almost always staffed—was still working well into the night on their latest projects. Alex had the night off, and Lagor and Carmen weren’t working, but the others knew him.

It took a bit of convincing, but he managed to get someone who was on break to open the supply centre for him. When he was in there, he put a long length of rope and a mana conductor on his employee’s credit, planning to bring payment for the items tomorrow.

The mana conductor—even with his employee discount—cost a whopping one hundred gold coins. A sum he wouldn’t even have begun to consider spending if it weren’t for the fact that he’d be receiving a good chunk of coin for the mana vampire soon, as well as something from Baelin for the xyrthak eggs.

It’d be well worth the price.

By the time he got back, Theresa, Khalik and a familiar sky-gondolier were talking near the sky-pier.

Lucia seemed a bit different, far more animated than usual. The sky-gondola hanging above her was far longer and wider than the few he’d seen her flying around the city. It was probably one that was used to transport larger groups, or for moving a quantity of supplies.

The mana vampire still lay broken and motionless on the ground, guarded by Grimloch, Brutus and Nua-Oge.

“No,” Lucia was saying and her voice actually sounded alive. And quite agitated. “You want to fly to the Barrens after nightfall, with a half-dead mana vampire in my gondola? Are you crazy? If that thing wakes up, we’ll all be its dinner!”

“I do not think you quite understand what you are refusing,” Khalik said. “I—Alex!”

Lucia turned as Alex approached them, and her eyes widened. “You…?”

“Hello,” Alex said. “I’m going to keep this simple. Listen, we want you to take us into the Barrens. It won’t be far from the wall separating the countryside from the wastes, and it won’t be dangerous. That area used to be xyrthak territory—”

Her eyes widened even more.

“Let me finish,” he said quickly. “We killed it a few days ago. It’s dead, and I doubt there’s going to be anything else deadly around there yet. And if there’s, say, some muupkaras or a bonedrinker around, then you’ll be with a bunch of people that killed a xyrthak, and beat the ever-loving shit out of a mana vampire. And, in return for you doing this…”

He thought over sums and what he could expect from the reward. The guards had informed them the bounty had risen to three thousand gold coins.

Evenly divided among everyone who’d been a part of its… well, its beating, he’d still have plenty left to spend, even taking into account buying the mana conductor.

Alex decided he could afford to be generous.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll pay you thirty gold coins to take us there. I’ll give you what I have right now, which is five gold, and bring you twenty-five more tomorrow. All you have to do is take us there, then take us back to campus. You don’t even have to get out of the gondola.”

Lucia actually gasped at the sum.

Khalik cleared his throat. “I am prepared to match that amount. Think of it. A little risk, to be sure, but you will make sixty gold coins for an hour or two of your time. Is that not worth it? Know that if you say no, we will find someone else who will take the coin.”

Lucia’s eyes narrowed.

A war raged on in her head. On the one hand, he could see her caution—caused by whatever happened to her at the university—telling her to just forget them and move on. On the other hand, there was something Alex knew all too well.

He’d been trapped in a dead-end job too, having to deal with unpleasant customers, a problematic boss, and the day-in-day-out of long hours and low pay. It could become crushing after a while, and Lucia both looked and sounded like she’d been crushed by it.

She’d once been on the path to becoming a full-fledged wizard and a graduate of Generasi, then tragedy had taken that from her. Now was an opportunity to—if not break that cycle—at least start to lay a path out of it.

Even in Generasi, sixty gold pieces was a lot of coin.

It was a sum that would be worth several months of his work at Shale’s Workshop, which paid better than a lot of other jobs in the city.

Sixty gold coins for an hour’s labour and a bit of risk.

Enough gold to maybe lay the foundation for something new.

When he’d been given an opportunity like that, he’d fled his homeland to take it.

By comparison, this risk was far less.

Lucia exhaled. “Alright. Thirty-five gold upfront. I’ll be working the evening shift tomorrow, so the other twenty-five tomorrow before supper. The moment I see anything bigger than a muupkara up there, I’m gone. I keep the thirty-five and you find your own way back. Got it?”

Alex looked at Khalik and the prince nodded.

“Sensible to me,” he said. “Come, then. The Barrens await.”

Chapter 71

The World’s Worst Teabag

Wind whipped through their hair as Lucia drove the sky-gondola at its maximum safe speed. Alex hadn’t known the boats could fly that fast, but was glad they could since time was a factor tonight.

He looked at the mana vampire in the front end of the sky-gondola. Theresa had hog-tied the thing—wrenching its damaged limbs—then wrapped the rope around its knees for extra security. The creature could only moan in its unconscious state.

Grimloch sat behind it, watching it intently. Theresa sat on the other side—nearer to the front—with her sword close to its neck.

Brutus lay in the bottom of the boat, whimpering at the speed of the magical flying vessel. The cerberus, shark man, and huntress formed a fine barrier of non-wizards between the mana vampire and potential food for it to drain.

Behind Brutus sat the rest of their group, then Lucia in the back, who’d pointedly made sure they put as much distance between her and the monster as possible.

“Is it moving?” she asked for what seemed like the tenth time.

“No,” Grimloch rumbled.

Still, she urged a little more speed from the sky-boat.

Khalik glared at the creature as they soared over the countryside with Najyah high above them, until eventually, the green grass became sparser and sparser the closer they got to the wall and the Barrens.

Taking into account the speed of the sky-gondola and from the map Baelin had shown them, it wouldn’t be long before they reached the xyrthak’s former territory, and the mana vent awaiting there.

The rest of the group hardly said a word as they looked out over the moonlit dusty wastes.

Alex shivered. “Cold,” he muttered in surprise.

“Mmm,” Khalik said. “That is the way of any desert of sand, dust or rock. They are hotter than a devil’s spit during the day, but at night, they are as cold as a mountain top.”

“Charming place,” Alex said, his attention being drawn to a light up ahead with ever shifting colours. “We’re getting close.”

“Mm,” Khalik said in anticipation.

Alex turned and looked back at Nua-Oge. “Thanks for being here, but you didn’t have to come to the Barrens with us, you know? I mean, I appreciate the extra back-up, but you didn’t have to be here for this part. You’ve done a lot already.”

“Well, Grimloch wanted to see his prey finished off,” the selachar said, her sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “And I want it gone too. Besides, I wouldn’t let my little brother come out here alone.”

“What?” If Alex hadn’t been sitting, he might have fallen over from the shock.

Khalik gawked. “Little… brother?”

“Adopted,” Grimloch grunted. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Alex said, dying to know what Grimloch’s birth parents looked like.

“Well, you live and learn,” Khalik murmured, then looked at Alex. “Do you think it is going to work? Dumping the mana vampire into the mana vent?”

“In theory, it should,” Alex said. “Mana vampires feed off of and process mana from a bunch of different people then convert it into their own to use, right? They even convert the mana from spells into raw power for themselves.”

He glanced at the creature. “This thing has the ability to convert mana within itself to be usable, but there’s a limit, like Isolde confirmed. If it could absorb a mana vent’s wild mana—with all the power that a vent could provide—then mana vampires wouldn’t have to attack people and bring attention to themselves. They’d just skip the city and go right to the Barrens and absorb whatever they needed to live. Or they could just absorb the stuff out of the air. That’s what I’m thinking, at least.”

His eyes hardened. “But with those suckers, the mana from the mana vent will get sucked into it and wreak complete havoc inside of it, just like with us.”

Khalik raised an eyebrow. “And then what happens? From the sound of it, that would likely kill it.”

“In time, yes. That’s what this is for.” Alex raised the mana conductor. “I learned how to guide mana reactions from working with some pretty wild stuff at work and in class. I’m gonna jab the mana vampire with this conductor and keep it stable until we get back to campus. If it starts to get out of control, I’ll try to adjust the mana, but I’m hoping it doesn’t.”

“Heh, how fitting,” the prince said. “All this trouble it has been giving to drain others of mana, and now it will get its fill and more… Which will prove to be its undoing.”

Lucia set the boat down far from the mana vent. Khalik, Brutus and Nua-Oge stayed with her, while Alex, Theresa and Grimloch dragged the beast toward the vent.

“We should do this fast,” Theresa said. “You won’t be able to tolerate that vent for long.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Alex said. “We’ll do it quick, like dumping a teabag.”

“Like hanging a fish up to dry,” Grimloch echoed.

“Like draping a skin on a drying rack,” Theresa added.

The mana vampire stirred, groaning.

The mana in the air was getting thicker and rougher, but Alex clenched his teeth and kept going. He squinted as a group of vent-drinkers—sleeping near the vent—woke up and ran screeching into the Barrens, kicking up dust in their wake.

Before landing, everyone in the sky-gondola had checked the area from above, then again when they’d landed. There was no sign of monsters nearby. No doubt some bold creature would eventually realize there was no longer a xyrthak around to protect its territory and would move in, but for now, things were clear.

Suddenly, the mana vampire started screeching and jerking as though in pain.

It awoke abruptly—jolted into consciousness by the intensity of the wild mana—shrieking and struggling against the ropes. Pain filled its cries. Alex felt no sympathy. He wondered how many people it heard scream when it was draining them.

The group reached the side of the mana vent and Alex grimaced. Its power slammed against him, making him feel like he was walking through clay. Clay that scratched and burned. He paused for a moment, watching the creature and letting his eyes adjust to the blazing light of the vent.

With its open suckers, the wild mana was hitting it much harder than it was him. It showed no sign of powering back up or absorbing the mana though, and seemed more like it was squirming to get away.

Good.

“Dunk it,” Alex said to Grimloch and Theresa.

“Haha, drink up, asshole.” The shark man grinned as he and the huntress tossed the screaming creature over the side.

The screech that erupted from the mana vent was horrifying. Again, he found no sympathy for the beast.

He watched its silhouette writhing in the vent—dangling on its rope—as wild mana blasted it, blistering patches of its bruised skin like a sunburn.

Then the creature started to swell.

More and more, its lean frame filled out, looking increasingly like a bloating, sunburnt corpse. Alex gritted his teeth as discomfort built from being so close to the mana vent, but he stayed, watching the creature continue to swell and writhe in pain.

At last, he felt energy surging from the mana vampire.

“Hoist it up quick and let’s move back,” he said through clenched teeth.

Theresa and Grimloch brought it up, moved back, and threw it on the ground.

Thump.

The swollen monster writhed like a slug in a bed of salt, trembling at the wild mana coursing through it. Its body seemed to be fighting to process it, but failing. A patch of reddened skin would knit together, then immediately split and blister. From the sheer number of burns coursing across its body, it was clearly not having much luck.

To confirm its mana status, Alex took his new mana conductor and pressed it to the core of the monster.

The mana was wreaking havoc through the creature. It blasted through its flesh and all the mana pathways running within its body. Alex could feel the monster trying to process the mana and—while there was a small amount being processed—the wild mana was too powerful and overwhelming. Its mana pool was already straining and leaking through the rest of its body.

The wild mana had already caused some of its internal structures to rupture. Only the small amount it could process was what was barely managing to keep it alive.

The wild mana was burning it out far faster than it could repair itself.

“Okay.” He nodded, grimacing as the oppressive weight of the wild mana increased. He’d been near the vent long enough. “Let’s get out of here. It’ll hold up for a little while longer without stabilization, but we’ve gotta move.”

“Let’s go,” Grimloch said, grabbing the mana vampire’s bonds and jogging away from the vent. Theresa kept pace and Alex followed, and they didn’t stop until they were near the sky-gondola.

Khalik, Nua-Oge and Lucia looked tense as they watched them approach.

“By the sapphire sea,” the prince said. “Look at it. It looks like it’s dying.”

“It is dying,” Alex said. “Give me a second.”

He crouched down beside the mana vampire and pressed the mana conductor to it again. Searching around, he found a pulsating distended organ in its core that processed the mana the creature absorbed. He noticed something going on around that organ: there were multiple mana pathways throughout the creature’s body, with valves that would open and close automatically. Its body had shut all of the pathways to the organ to stop it from being completely overwhelmed.

In spite of this, the wild mana was so intense, that some still seeped through the tiny valves, reaching the processing organ anyway. It was processing some of what leaked through, but was burning out as it did.

Alex concentrated, using mana manipulation and the Mark to guide the reactions going on in the mana vampire’s body. He grimaced, as it was hard to manage. Wild mana was… wild, and he knew he couldn’t settle it. The only thing he could do was guide it around the mana vampire’s body, shifting it from place to place in order to stop the mana from destroying too much of any section of its body.

The wild mana wanted to move, so letting it circulate in a controlled manner was a lot easier than trying to get it to settle or calm down. It was like redirecting force: often that was far easier than stopping it.

Still, this could only be a temporary measure, because all he was doing by circulating the mana through the creature was prolonging its inevitable end. He needed to get it to the lab quickly to transform the wild mana into usable mana for other things.

Like golems.

“Let’s move with all that speed you said this boat has, Lucia,” Alex said. “I can keep this thing stable, but I’d like to get it to campus as soon as we can.”

Selina and Shiani were waiting for them on the grounds when they arrived and rushed to meet them.

“Alex!” Selina cried.

“I couldn’t pull her away,” Shiani told him. “She would not move until she saw you were back safely.”

Alex smiled, tousling his sister’s hair. Theresa patted her on the back and Brutus licked her face.

“I’ll be taking my down payment now,” Lucia said. “And I’ll be seeing you for the rest tomorrow.”

Alex and Khalik paid her and watched her lift-off… after counting the coins.

She was actually smiling, almost laughing.

With a final nod of acknowledgement, she raced away through the sky. Alex hoped the coin would give her the start to a better life.

He reached into his pocket and took out the key Baelin had given him to the lab. Alex wished Baelin and Jules were there, but it was the middle of the night, and not only did he not know where Jules lived, but showing up at the chancellor’s mansion or her home uninvited would probably not be a very welcomed idea.

“Any sign of Isolde?” he asked.

“No,” Shiani said.

He bit his lip. The faster he got this done, the safer it would be and the quicker he could go and see how Thundar was.

Khalik let Najyah go free to hunt rabbits since she hadn’t had anything to eat because of the mana vampire attacking her. As a matter of fact, neither had Alex or Khalik.

“Tell Najyah to bring us back some rabbit stew,” Alex joked. “We didn’t even get anything to eat because of this mana-sucking piece of garbage, and I’m starving.”

Theresa jumped in, “Yeah, I’m hungry too.”

“So am I,” said Selina, Nua-Oge, Khalik and Shiani at the same time.

“I wonder how mana vampire tastes?” Grimloch wondered aloud.

Everyone went completely silent for what felt like minutes before Theresa finally said, “Hey, Selina, why don’t we go and get something from the campus cafe? They’re open late. And we can bring stuff back for everyone else?”

As she said it, she caught Alex’s eye, then glanced briefly at Selina, then back at Alex. He nodded once, understanding what she meant, then said to Selina, “That’s a good idea, Selina. That way, you can choose exactly what you want and help Theresa bring food back for the rest of us. What’d you think?”

Selina hesitated. “But I wanted to watch what you’re going to do.”

“Oh, that’s okay. The most important part’ll be getting the mana into the golem core, and we won’t be doing that until tomorrow. So it’s fine if you go and get something to eat, and you can bring me back something too,” Alex said.

“Are you sure you won’t start the golem when we’re gone?” she asked.

“Even if I could, I’d never power it up without you being there. You and I worked on him together, so we’ll power him up together, okay?”

“Okay, as long as you don’t start him without me, then I’ll go with Theresa. I am pretty hungry.” Her stomach grumbled as if to confirm that.

Alex mouthed ‘Thanks’ to Theresa.

“Good choice, Selina,” Theresa said to the little girl.

“Here, take my student disk so you can get into the building when you’re ready,” Alex said, handing Theresa the disk. “We can use Khalik’s to open the door.”

Pocketing the disk, she said, “How do sandwiches, pastries and cider sound to you guys?” No one had any complaints, so she, Selina and Brutus headed off on the food run.

Khalik and Grimloch wrapped the gurgling monster in a cloak while Alex kept the mana circulating, then the shark man carried the bound, bloated form to the castle doors. Khalik used his student disk to open them and they headed through the towers to the lab, where Alex then used the key from Baelin to unlock it.

He was the first to enter, and as he stepped in, glowing forceballs that shed a silvery light sprang to life, illuminating the space.

“Put it over there,” he said to Grimloch, pointing to the massive mana vacuum in the corner. The shark man was carrying the monster by the ropes, while Khalik held his blade on it.

Everyone froze and stepped back as the Unseen Aids materialized.

“It’s okay!” Alex assured them. “You’re with me and I have a key. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure they’d be attacking all of us right now.”

“Comforting,” Khalik said sarcastically.

Nua-Oge and Shiani were gawking at the massive golem standing silently at one end of the room. Grimloch nodded at it with approval. “Good style,” he said as he dropped the mana vampire beside the vacuum.

Alex got busy, getting protective gear for everyone except Grimloch, since everything was too small for the shark man’s massive head and body. Nua-Oge came to the rescue, and cast a watershield over him to protect him from any mishaps. With that problem solved, Alex moved around the lab, preparing the necessary tools. He removed the cloak from the creature, pressed his mana conductor to the middle of its torso, and took up a stylus. He drew an ‘X’ on the bound mana vampire, just above where its mana-processing organ was located.

He glanced to the mana vacuum, and Jules’ words came back to him: “…you would need to stab yourself in the core of your body, and activate the vacuum for it to even be a threat. And even then, your mana is so safely tucked into you, such a device wouldn’t work at all unless you recently had a conduit opened to transfer mana directly in or out of your body. So, unless you were attacked by a mana vampire in the previous hour, donated to one, or somehow convinced one to donate its mana to you, then you would be safe. In such an event, though, I think you would have greater problems.”

Well, the mana vampire was about to have greater problems.

Alex pressed the conductor onto the gurgling, convulsing mana vampire. “Alright, Khalik, I need you to do something for me. You’ll be sending this creature to the afterlife, if there is an afterlife for mana vampires.”

The prince’s eyes lit up in excitement. “What do you need?”

“I need you to make an incision with this scalpel on that ‘X.’ Keep cutting until I say stop. Then put the mana vacuum’s wand into the hole you made, you turn on the mana vacuum and we drain this pile of garbage for everything it’s worth.”

Shiani—whose magic burnt monsters to death—made a face. “Gruesome, but poetic in a way.”

“Ironic.” Khalik took the instrument and looked down at the monster. “You fed yourself by draining the mana of others. Now you shall serve others by having the mana drained from you.”

“Do it, Khalik.”

The prince stabbed down.

The creature’s choking grew more frantic.

Blood that glowed only slightly poured out.

“Okay, that’s deep enough,” Alex said. “Now the vacuum.”

There was a sickening squelch as Khalik pushed the wand into the creature’s body until it touched the mana-processing organ.

Alex looked down at the monster.

“Pull the switch,” he said.

The creature’s gurgle became a sharp intake of breath as Alex’s mana manipulation guided the wild mana to the closed valves until they were forced open by the pressure.

Alex watched as the wild mana was driven—by his manipulation, its own intensity, and the mana vacuum’s suction—right through the processing organ. The organ went into high activity, rapidly processing the mana. What came out still had strong intensity, but was actually usable.

Molten power flowed up through the vacuum and into the mana waste container.

As Alex guided some of the processed mana back into the organ—letting the mana vampire’s healing processes keep the organ from burning out too early—he thought back to something else Jules spoke of.

She’d been right: he was doing horrifying things.

He hoped Baelin would appreciate the report.

Chapter 72

The Siphoning

Horror lay in the mana vampire’s eyes.

It looked semi-conscious and partially delirious, but seemed to comprehend—at least in-part—what was happening to it.

The creature tried to divert some of the processed mana to self-heal, but the mana vacuum was draining it directly from the organ that processed the mana. It had nothing to use. The wild mana in the rest of its body was still burning it out, even faster than before since it couldn’t direct any of the bits of mana it could process to heal the damage.

Its swollen body began collapsing inward as its bruised and wounded skin and flesh rapidly dehydrated. Blisters and burns worsened. Its tongue and arm stumps flailed, while its shattered legs spasmed, desperate to reach any of the nearby wizards.

It even tried sucking the mana being drained back into itself, but had grown too weak to fight the combined skill of Alex’s mana manipulation and the powerful suction of Baelin’s mana vacuum.

Soon, its body returned to its original size. And the withering didn’t stop there. In moments, it changed from a bloated monstrosity to resembling the starving mana vampire on the Red Siren.

Then it dried out further, reminding Alex of its shrivelled victims in the alley and town square.

Its skin crackled like dry leaves and it began to wheeze.

At that point, Alex stopped directing the processed mana back into the organ, which was the only thing allowing it to heal. Now, the last of the wild mana was drawn through—burning the organ as it went—until finally, it was choked off when there was no more wild mana to drain.

All that remained was a dribble of natural mana in its body, trying to preserve its failing life processes.

The mana vacuum didn’t discriminate between wild mana and its own.

The creature went limp as even the scant mana keeping it alive was drawn through the tube, and up into the mana waste container. Its body broke down, first becoming a milky liquid, then drifting steam. Alex siphoned some of the fluid into a potion flask, sealing it tightly.

In the morning, when he went to report what he’d done with the creature to the authorities, that could serve as proof that it was dead and gone.

The vapour that remained swirled into a fine mist as the last dregs of its mana was drained away.

At last, the creature drifted into nothingness.

Khalik looked down at the ropes that had been its bonds. “Now that death has you, and if there was a spirit in that form you held, then you can tell your victims’ souls that you know what you did to them. If you should meet them.”

Silence lay throughout the room.

Nua-Oge and Shiani were staring at the ropes with grim disgust.

Grimloch watched the liquid sealed in the flask with a snarl, revealing menacing teeth.

“I smell food,” he said abruptly. “I think those guys are back. Will those things—” he nodded toward the Unseen Aids, “—start looking for a fight if I let ’em in?” Primus and Secondus seemed to scowl at Grimloch as he glared right back.

“Uhm… maybe I’d better let them in to be on the safe side,” Alex said, moving to the lab door and opening it. “There’s a room across the hall, a break room where we can eat.”

Alex took Theresa and Selina—carrying bags of food—to the break room, followed by Brutus with some sort of bone in one of his mouths. The others followed, taking off their masks as they did.

“Let’s eat!” Grimloch shouted and was met with no resistance. Nua-Oge had to quickly dispel her protective spell on him before he started trying to eat through it.

Theresa and Selina laid the food out on an empty table and everyone dug in like locusts on a field of grain. After they’d finished eating, they wandered back to the lab to finish cleaning up.

Selina peeked her head in and—now that it was safe—walked over to where the ropes still lay beside the mana vacuum.

“Is it gone now? Forever?” she asked her brother.

“Oh yeah,” Alex said. “You can’t get more dead than that.”

“Good.” She nodded. “Good. And now what happens?”

“Now.” He looked at the golem. “I use all the power we just took from that mana-leeching fiend, and we activate it. Well, I do… but we do that in the morning, after Baelin’s awake.”

He thought about the golem going crazy in Shale’s Workshop. Considering the many unknowns about the dungeon core substance, he didn’t want to try activating it without an invincible goat wizard nearby within berserk golem-blasting range.

He checked the mana waste container.

A lot of mana waste containers were only able to preserve mana within them for fairly short periods of time. The lower priced ones could do it for about an hour or two, while the more expensive ones were able to do it for a matter of hours.

But Baelin’s custom model could preserve mana for days.

It would keep until morning.

He felt out the mana inside. It was beautiful. The wild mana had been converted into usable—though still very intense—power. And there was a lot of it.

With the sheer intensity and amount of mana, he could probably power five or six normal golems with the stuff.

He chuckled. This was it. The problem of power had been solved. Now all that was needed was to direct it through the golem core in the morning. He’d have to spend part of the night writing a detailed report on what had happened as he’d promised Baelin he would, though. It had been a long day and turned into an even longer night.

“A fine kill and congratulations,” Nua-Oge was looking up at the golem. “Have you named it yet? It’s a claygon, yes?”

“A what now?” Alex asked, confused.

“Ah, sorry, I mispronounced it in the common tongue,” she explained. “Clay golem, I meant.”

“Claygon…” Selina said. “Alex, that name’s awesome! It sounds really cool.”

Alex thought about it. The golem had the ability to evolve, so having ‘clay’ in its name wouldn’t be accurate once it began to change.

…Then again.

Wouldn’t that be fun?

Attackers punched by a stone or iron golem named Claygon would be pretty hilarious. It was one thing to be stomped by a golem or warrior with a really cool, badass name… But being stomped to death by something that was named by a slip of the tongue and a little girl’s enthusiasm?

Wouldn’t that be just plain embarrassing?

Alex grinned. “I like it. I like it a lot. Claygon it is!”

Selina cheered and jumped for joy as the golem was named, while the others had mixed expressions.

“I feel very sorry for any children you have, Alex.” Khalik shook his head. “They shall have terrible names.”

“How’s he doing?” Alex asked as he stepped up beside a seated, exhausted-looking, dark-haired young woman.

Isolde blinked blearily, squinting up at Alex, Khalik and Theresa. Nua-Oge, Shiani and Grimloch had gone home, but asked to let them know how Thundar was tomorrow. Selina had fallen asleep on the way over and Alex was carrying her.

Isolde’s smile was faint. “You’re here. Good.”

The infirmary waiting area was largely deserted at this time of night. Only a few people were waiting in the rows of chairs facing a front desk and doorway leading farther into the squat, one-story building.

“It was much busier earlier,” Isolde said. “The other victims were brought in and there was much activity, but now things have quieted down. As for Thundar…” She shook her head. “The drain was very bad… Thankfully, not as bad as it could have been. His mana pool has been damaged, but it is not to the point where it is crippled. They said he would recover with treatment, time and rest.”

Sighs of relief went through the group.

“…You don’t seem to be happy,” Theresa pointed out.

“Well, it is not all good,” Isolde said. “He cannot use magic for at least three weeks while his pool recovers. It will greatly put him behind in his studies.”

Alex nearly burst out laughing.

Leave it to Isolde to be thinking about Thundar’s academic well-being right now.

“Will they let us see him?” he asked.

She shook her head. “He is sleeping now. They say that when he awakens, he will be able to take visitors, but it will take time for his body to recover. He is not likely to wake for a couple of days yet.”

“Nothing for it, then,” Alex said. “We’ll have to let him rest up.”

“Is the monster dead?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” Khalik said. “And it was not a peaceful death.”

“Good,” Isolde said. “Thundar will no doubt be happy with that news.”

In his office, Chancellor Baelin doubled over in a third fit of laughter. The goatman’s beard clasps rattled as he pounded the desktop in absolute glee.

“Oh, this is too rich!” he roared. “Stuffing a mana vampire like a roasted pig and draining it dry! What an absolutely barbaric and mad scheme!”

His laughter filled the air for a good minute as he continued flipping through Alex’s report.

The tired yet excited young wizard sat before Baelin’s desk, watching him in shared amusement.

Knowing Baelin’s propensity for… killing things and taking their skulls, he’d had the feeling the ancient wizard would approve of how he’d made use of the mana vampire.

He hadn’t expected this enthusiastic of a reaction, though.

There were times when he couldn’t help but wonder if Baelin was completely mad. Then again, considering how old he was and how much things had changed around him, maybe the world seemed mad to him.

Finally, the chancellor closed the notebook and wiped tears from his eyes. “I swear.” He shook his head. “You flee your country to avoid battling monsters under your god’s yoke, and yet here you are, having your companions beat a mana vampire almost to death and using it as a mana sponge! You’ve got a vicious streak in you, to be sure.”

“Well, I saw an opportunity and took it, just like you encourage us to do.” Alex shrugged matter-of-factly. “Is the report okay; is it detailed enough?”

“Oh, yes,” Baelin said. “It absolutely lays out everything you did in detail.” He looked at a new timepiece on the wall. “Right. Since I have a meeting shortly, will you be available later for the grand activation of one…” He squinted at the paper. “Claygon? Really?”

“Well, yeah,” Alex said. “My sister and Nua-Oge named it.”

Baelin cocked his head. “And you went along with this?”

Alex explained his reasoning on how an enemy might feel being defeated by something named ‘Claygon.’

“Ah, I see. I’m not sure if I will ever understand your perverse sense of humour, Alex, but I cannot argue with the results. But to think you would pump a mana vampire full of wild mana and drain it. Of all the ways to power a golem…”

“Y-yeah,” Alex muttered, thinking of how Baelin accused him of having a perverse sense of humour. The same had just enjoyed a long laugh reading about them beating a monster within an inch of its life, filling it with wild mana that could easily have killed it, and then harvesting the mana like they were taking grapes to make wine.

He decided not to point that out.

Probably wisely.

“Honestly,” Baelin said. “I thought that to solve your power problem, you might consider growing and then crushing any of the mana-rich, carnivorous plant species found in the greenhouse to extract their power for your needs. Or perhaps harvest monsters from the Barrens. Even repeatedly brew the right potion and simply extract the mana each time. I had even considered the possibility that you might ask a supervisor at your workplace for a hand. But this… this was nowhere in the realm of possibilities I could have imagined. It was inspired! I cannot wait until Professor Jules finds out.” He burst into laughter again.

“You are utterly mad,” Professor Jules said with no trace of amusement on her face. “Utterly, completely and totally out of your mind, Mr. Roth. There are tomes and plays written to horrify audiences about mad wizards that engage in unnatural experiments. I am half-convinced that one day, one will be written about you.”

“Uh…” Alex blinked. “Thanks?”

“That wasn’t a compli—” She stopped, making the sort of noise that a choking mule would make when dying under a hot sun.

“I find it fairly amusing, Vernia.” Baelin smiled. “Very amusing, actually.”

“Well, I suppose you can be amused,” Jules said. “I am doing my best to direct a good student, while you enjoy crafting maniacs.”

“Aren’t you the one that let him assist in a ritual to summon a shoggoth, Vernia?” Baelin said. “You put him on the path of ‘evil warlock from legend’ before I ever did.”

“Bah, I suppose we shouldn’t split hairs,” she said. “There is a golem to activate after all, and an audience to satisfy.” She looked toward the opposite end of the lab in mild disapproval.

It was a bit more crowded than usual.

Theresa, a sleepy Selina, Khalik and Isolde sat on the other side of the chamber. Thundar hadn’t awoken yet, and everyone else who’d fought the mana vampire the night before were getting some much deserved sleep.

More importantly, though, there was no way they could be aware of the true gravity of this situation. They thought Alex had simply made a golem. They had no clue about dungeon core remains or how monumental using them in a golem core was.

Brutus wasn’t there because as Baelin had said: ‘Bringing a large beast into a lab just to spectate might be taking things too far and could be enough to give Vernia a heart attack.’

Already, it was pretty obvious she didn’t approve of so many spectators, especially the non-wizard ones. The only reason she didn’t object more forcefully was because Baelin erected a magic ward in a circle around them to protect them from potential mishaps or catastrophe. He’d also made sure everyone was fitted with protective equipment. Even using a spell to shrink down an apron and mask to Selina’s size.

The sleepy girl kept rubbing at it, and Theresa kept moving her hands away.

“Shall we begin?” Baelin said.

“Yes.” Alex looked up at the golem. “Let’s bring Claygon to life.”

Jules snorted. “My goodness, Mr. Roth, as gifted as you are in alchemy is as ungifted as you are in naming things.”

Chapter 73

Roth; or, The Magical Prometheus

Alex washed his hands then turned to Claygon.

“Professors, would you mind uh… helping me with the activation process?” Alex asked. “I know I’m supposed to do this alone, but I’ve never activated a golem outside of a team of four: a crafter and three assistants. I’m not sure if I can do it by myself, especially with the special nature of the core and the mana I’m using.”

“Of course,” Baelin said. “You have solved the major hurdle and have learned from it. Although not the lesson I anticipated you would learn. Expecting you to handle this by yourself would just be irresponsible.”

Jules shook her head. “Because wild mana forcibly processed through a mana vampire organ is not irresponsible, apparently. But, yes, agreed. We will all learn much from this. We should work together.”

“Perfect,” Alex said.

Together they divided the tasks: Baelin would jump-start the mana process, Alex would power up the section that controlled the golem’s movements as well as the section connected with its master to receive instructions. Jules would work on the section responsible for connecting to the embedded fire-gems.

Then they would all join together to activate the golem’s power generation.

Alex called out the floating platform that the golem stood on and used a ladder—also floating, because of course Baelin would have a floating ladder in his laboratory—to climb up the side of the creation. He slowly and carefully implanted the fire-gems.

He embedded the first one into the palm of Claygon’s upper-right arm, and the second into the palm of its upper-left arm. The last he embedded in the hole in its forehead he and Selina had sculpted in the centre of its ‘helmet.’ A third eye.

For a time, he’d considered using all three of the fire-gems as eyes like how they’d been set in the goddess’ statues. But he’d reconsidered that when he came up with the idea of placing two of them in two of the golem’s four hands and one in its forehead. That way, it could direct fire-beams in two different directions at once while firing in a third direction from its third eye.

Perfect for mass destruction.

Once the gems were embedded, Alex thought back to the first time he’d seen them gleaming in the goddess’ eyes. He’d needed to think fast to stop them from blasting the four of them to ashes in the Cave of the Traveller, but some long-term thinking allowed him to turn them into his permanent weapons.

He shook his head. Life was incredibly strange at times.

“Something the matter?” Baelin asked.

“No, sorry, just thinking about things,” Alex said as he climbed back down.

He ordered the floating platform holding Claygon to hover in front of the mana vacuum and waste container, then looked at Professor Jules. “You know, if it weren’t for you, I couldn’t have managed this. Seriously, thank you for introducing me to alchemy, Professor. I owe you a lot.”

A strange look passed through the older woman’s eyes. “R-right. Thank you, Mr. Roth.”

Baelin chuckled quietly but said nothing.

“Alrighty.” Alex took a deep breath, acknowledging and calming a final surge of nerves. “This is it. No point in delaying.”

Alex stepped back onto the floating ladder, while Baelin and Professor Jules cast flight spells upon themselves and floated up behind the golem.

They looked at the large, uniquely coloured golem core, and Alex connected the mana vacuum to it. He and Jules drew their mana conductors.

Baelin glanced at it. “No, no.” He floated to one of the shelves and came back with far more delicate-looking mana conductors. “Those are good tools, but if the best is available, then you might as well use it.”

Alex and Jules exchanged mirrored, slightly offended looks before taking Baelin’s offered conductors. As soon as Alex ran his mana through it, he sighed.

Baelin was right. This one was much better.

Together, they placed their conductors against the golem.

Alex touched the wand of the mana vacuum. “You both ready?”

He received two nods, and then threw the switch.

Mana gushed into the golem core, and even though he knew it would be powerful, the sheer amount of power still surprised him. He’d been shocked by Lagor’s mana when he’d first felt it, but the amount flowing out of this made the orc crafter’s seem positively tiny.

The intensity of it was stunning too. The mana had been processed by the mana vampire’s organ, but it was still freshly tamed wild mana. Like a trained wolf, there was still a lot of ‘wild’ in it.

Then Baelin and Jules were there, starting to handle their areas of the core. Taking comfort in their presence, Alex dove right in. Using the Mark, he let it help guide him through his tasks, and it called up memories of his first contact with the dungeon core, his activation of golem cores at Shale’s, and even his guidance of the mana through the mana vampire.

Using everything he’d done right at those times, he was able to get a handle on the mana and begin activating the section responsible for the golem’s movements. He joined his own mana with the processed wild mana as it continued to flow, passing it through all the inner pathways of his part of the golem core.

The combined mana flowed and began to flood the tiny nodes responsible for moving its body. At first, he hesitated, but then kept pouring his own and the intense processed wild mana into the nodes. They simply drank up the energy without lighting up.

For a moment, he started to worry he might have underestimated how much the core would need.

Then things shifted and Alex smiled: the nodes began to respond.

The nodes responsible for its upper arms began to spark.

Followed by the nodes responsible for the lower pair.

Then the node for its legs. Then the one responsible for the intake of sensory information, as well as its perception of its own position and movement. Then, finally, the node responsible for its head.

They all began to hum into life.

Elsewhere, he felt the beginnings of the powerful core coming to life. As Baelin finished his task, the centre of the core began to pass the wild mana through itself and—as it did—the dungeon core remains infused within, further increased the intensity of the mana.

The core was already thrumming with power, and most of it hadn’t even been activated yet.

Alex felt the surge of fire magic join with the processed wild mana, crackling and racing within the golem’s limbs. The fire-gems began to glow as their own powerful magics were connected to an even greater source.

Quickly, he moved to the area of the core meant to receive and process his commands. As he activated those nodes, he found them increasingly easier to spark now that more of the core was coming to life.

Something was touching his mind.

He’d learned about this phenomenon from Lagor. The golem core was reaching and learning his thought patterns. For an instant, it was overwhelming. All of his thoughts, feelings, emotions and insecurities flooded the core in a wave and it greedily drank them all down.

As more nodes came to life, the tide slowed to a trickle, becoming far less invasive. There was almost a curiosity to it as it organized his mental energy and forged thin connections of mana between his mind and itself so it could receive instructions from him.

The connections continued solidifying until finally, every last node was activated.

Claygon would soon be ready to receive his instructions by way of his thoughts, or the thoughts of anyone else he would transfer ownership to.

Now all that was left to take care of was the power generation.

He joined Baelin and Jules in the centre of the core, and they poured their mana in together while guiding the processed wild mana into the golem’s internal reactor.

The core absorbed their mana and the wild mana like a suckling pig, taking more and more into itself in a wave. The suction was so strong, Alex almost felt like the mana vampire was draining him again, except he controlled the speed of its flow.

Increasing amounts of processed wild mana flooded the reactor, but there were still only sparks being created inside of it and the rest of the core. The mana flowing through built up in volume and raced around with intensity, but still the sparks weren’t catching enough to build into a roaring fire.

Professor Jules and Baelin continued to push their mana into the centre of the core, and Alex flooded in his own. Neither of the two older wizards looked worried, but Alex couldn’t help feel an icy knot of nerves in his belly.

He spared a quick glance at the mana waste container.

Half of the wild mana had been poured into the core already.

‘Come on,’ he thought. ‘Come on.’

Voom!

It all happened at once.

The beginnings of the mana generation process began to activate and—an instant later—the power spiked. A new mana woke up: that of the core itself.

It was far more vigorous than the mana he’d felt from any golem he ever worked on. There was also something familiar in the way it felt. Similar to the way the dungeon core’s mana felt when he was driving it into the Traveller’s.

Yet, it wasn’t quite the same as the dungeon core’s mana either; there was a difference to it. In the end, Claygon’s mana was unique and Alex was glad for it.

That unique mana started roaring through like a river—then a rushing tide in the sea. Still, the three wizards continued to feed it.

Finally, the flow from the mana vacuum trickled to a stop. There was nothing left in the waste container.

But now the mana generation was self-sustaining. Unstoppable.

Voooom!

Alex gasped as his mana was pushed out of the core, followed by that of Jules and Baelin. The three wizards floated away from the golem—Alex still clinging to his ladder—taking it in from a distance. The room was filled with a reddish-gold light that shimmered like sunlight filtering through shifting water.

If the activation of a regular golem core was like the sun coming out, then Alex didn’t know what to even call this.

The sun and stars? Ten suns?

Its power was overwhelming.

“By all the gods,” Jules murmured as the multicoloured light built in the golem core. “…It’s so beautiful.”

“Indeed.” An intensity lay in Baelin’s eyes. “It’s dawn, Vernia. We are witnessing the dawn of a new era in wizardry.”

The air twitched and surged as—at last—the construct came alive. The fire-gems flared, shedding their own fiery light.

The circuits between himself and Claygon vibrated.

The connection solidified.

A giddy sense of triumph surged through Alex, and he raised his hands in glee.

“It lives!” he cried. “It liiiiives!”

“And it might try to kill us in the next five heartbeats, Mr. Roth. Focus!” Jules barked. “Test the connection!”

“Right, right!” he said, catching himself.

A slap came from across the room—Khalik had pressed his gloved palm to his masked face.

Alex cleared his mind and turned toward the golem.

This would be another major point of tension.

Would the golem listen to him? Would the use of the dungeon core have an unexpected side effect? Was the Ravener suddenly connecting with the golem core?

He took a deep breath.

“Claygon,” he said. “Take one step down from the platform.”

Grrrrrnd.

There was a terrifying rumble as the golem shifted forward. Its colossal armoured foot rose. Even though he had not specified the exact movements necessary to manoeuvre off the floating platform, the golem stepped down with ease.

Boom.

The floor shook.

Excitement coursed through Alex. Next, he willed the golem to take three steps forward, as though he were commanding one of his spells.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Claygon took three steps.

‘Turn,’ he thought.

The golem slowly turned and Alex took in his creation in its entirety.

As an inanimate statue, it had been impressive.

As a moving figure, it was terrifying.

It was slightly taller than Grimloch’s almost ten-foot height, and broader than the shark man at the shoulders. The thing looked like a living castle wall. The filigree and designs he and Selina sculpted into its armour gave it a legendary warrior appeal, with arms thick and powerful enough to snap a xyrthak’s neck or a hive-queen’s back like a chicken.

With its vicious, shark-toothed face and four arms, it could have been some monster that crawled out of a demonic abyss. The red, ominous glow of the fire-gems made it seem even more like some knight of devil-kind.

The sheer power radiating from the golem—felt deeply through its connections to him—was daunting.

He’d created a monster; one with the capability of evolving to greater heights.

“Well done,” Baelin said. “A remarkable creation. It seems the first test of the application of dungeon core essence is a success.”

“The power…” Professor Jules gawked behind her mask. “I absolutely must see this in a field test.”

“He’s too cool!” Selina shouted from the opposite end of the room. “He’s toooo cool!”

“I wish Thundar could see this,” Khalik said. “He would enjoy such a spectacle.”

“I want to see its speed,” Theresa added. “It could make hunting or combat against most creatures as easy as digging earthworms.”

“Um, I know this is all grand…” Isolde said. “But where will you keep it, Alex?”

“Oh, it’s small enough to actually fit through regular doors if it stoops,” Alex said. “Juuuust small enough.”

“Indeed… but, er, will you keep it crouched in your apartment? It will take up a frightful amount of room,” Isolde pointed out.

“Oh… Well, details, details, to be dealt with later. We’ve gotten over the hard part. Claygon’s active and, so far, there’s no issues with commands. I feel sorry for anything that tries to hurt us now.”

Alex smiled behind his mask.

“Indeed. And now, to work on the report and test it in the field,” Baelin said. “It will take some time to come up with and organize a proper combat test. In the meantime, it is your private property, Alex. It’s all yours. But once the field test is complete… it is time to make plans.”

His eyes shone with intensity.

“Grand plans.”

Chapter 74

Hunters’ Gathering

The Ravener’s hunter emerged from the sea, shaking the salt water from its iron-hard hide. Two splashes followed right behind; its siblings surfaced on the isolated beach. In its travels far and wide—pinging for its kin—it had only managed to join with these two. Another was found, but it had been mortally wounded by a powerful, wild monster far to the north.

The others were either too far, or too spread out, to locate. They could even be long dead.

The three hunters had searched for the others, but eventually abandoned their quest. Their quarry’s location was within sight, and action was needed in case it escaped. Each assassin was equal to a hive-queen or other dungeon guardian in battle.

Three would be enough.

Before setting out, they checked one another’s skin with their curved claws, grooming away seaweed and ocean creatures that had tagged along on their hides. Their skin was rough in texture, like thousands of scabs joined together, offering hiding spots for tiny vermin and parasites to nestle in and make their home. The hunters learned these minute creatures were torturous when they became an infestation, biting and feeding off their life blood. Removing them was well worth any time they spared now. Once their grooming was done—a surprisingly gentle ritual—they stalked across the moonlit beach and slipped into the forest.

The lead hunter—the one who found their prey and gathered the other two—solidified a plan. They would herd the followers they needed from within the groups of local monsters and build a force to slay their quarry.

Pings revealed their target was still within the city of mortals where magic was strong. This no longer mattered even if it meant invading the city itself. When they finally increased their number, all that would be required was for one of them to slip through the defences and rip apart the Ravener’s enemy, while the city’s defenders were kept occupied.

Neither did it matter if all three of them were to die after that crucial task was complete.

In the end, what was important was fulfilling the task given them by the Ravener. The only regret, should they die, would be that they could not return to their master to report the fulfilment of their existence.

So long as their quarry lay slain, that would be enough.

The creatures moved quickly from the beach and through the countryside, and the first hunter found it was far easier moving through the fields this time. The armed mortals who had stalked this region were gone. No longer were scores of humans about or others wielding magic and steel, searching every forest, cave, and bog as though seeking the leader’s head.

It communicated this difference to its siblings as they approached the great wall separating lush, warm lands, from the dusty place that was even stronger with mana.

They hid near the wall, watching carefully as guards patrolled. These patrols were well-armed and vigilant, but their gaze was kept mostly toward the hot, barren place.

None seemed to be watching for any threats seeking to enter the dusty place from the countryside. That proved a boon for the trio. They silently bided their time, waiting until a guard stopped in one of the towers built into the fortification.

With curved claws, power and agility, they scaled the stone wall in silence, then dropped down on the other side. Their dark hides blended with the night shadows and they loped into the wastes with none the wiser.

The dry air hit them like a strike from one of the Ravener’s greatest enemies, and they grimaced against it. These were creatures, able to move through any environment, were most comfortable in places cool and wet. They learned to deal with a wide variety of climates, though, and continued to press on.

And that was not the only thing they learned.

It had been months since the Ravener sent them on their mission, and they had used that time to study and mimic creatures they encountered.

The lead hunter, who had roamed this land before, continued its hobby of observing mortals, mimicking their language. Over time, it began to actually understand the sounds being made as it copied them.

It could now lure and call mortals with their own language, as well as understand many of their words, making it even more dangerous than it had been before. The leader would teach its siblings as they travelled, granting them another tool. But the two of them hadn’t gained that high a level of proficiency with the tongues of humanity and other sapient creatures yet.

What they did excel at was mimicking and even understanding the calls of beasts. The three hunters intended to share all of the learning they had acquired and make use of it here.

They had a horde to build.

First, they needed to find shelter.

Searching through the dusty lands—shocked at how quickly the heat rose with the sun in this place—they found a large cave buried in a cliff face.

They did not find it unoccupied.

A monster howled and rushed out to defend its burrow—a strange, massive creature that was all misshapen bones—and struck at them with its tail. The hunters were far quicker and their claws horrifyingly sharp.

They swarmed through the bone creature’s defences, carving away pieces of its skeleton with great tearing strikes. Their terrible strength split its shell and their teeth bit down, injecting deadly venom into the wounds.

Their attacker was dead within seconds.

And so, the hunters had their shelter.

And food to go with it.

From their new lair, the trio gradually explored the dusty lands. They came across no humans or other mortals, but that did not mean those enemies were not watching, as they still patrolled outside the wall.

They remained cautious.

Ranging farther out, continuing to feast on the bone creature’s body—pickled and preserved by their toxin—they soon found other monsters.

Other bone creatures stalked the dust, far from where they killed the first. These creatures, it appeared, were solitary, staying clear of each other’s territory. The trio observed them constantly, learning their habits. They witnessed how they hunted, how they warned each other away from their terrain.

One day, they beheld their behaviour of dominance when one made a kill: a large bony creature that swam beneath the dust like the huge, krill eating creatures that swam within the sea. Suddenly, another larger bone creature appeared, howling, hissing and screeching at the smaller one.

The smaller one hissed back but soon cowered away from its meal.

Observing this display showed them how these beasts could be controlled.

And so, they began to mimic.

The largest of the three hunters—covered in scars from a fight against a giant it encountered when it was alone—was the first to understand the bone creatures’ cries.

It was tasked with finding, then subduing, the largest of this type of creature for their horde. The scarred kin ventured into the wastes, seeking their needed quarry.

The pair of hunters sought other creatures to rule in the meantime. They’d found one powerful type of beast so far; now they needed numbers.

The next creatures they came across were massive monsters, humanoid in shape, but lacking their intelligence. They ate massive amounts of flesh, and used strength and numbers to hunt and kill. Though the monsters showed fear of the bone creatures and avoided them most of the time, the hunters witnessed them gather in a great pack, then stalk and kill one of the bone creatures to consume it back in their lair.

They would be suitable for serving them, the two hunters decided.

They continued to watch the humanoid monsters as they gorged themselves on meat. Over time, they began to learn their hierarchy. They were social creatures, and most often the largest, strongest and most dominating of their number commanded the rest.

At times, they found smaller ones that led the others, but it was through superior aggression, savagery and fighting ability.

Their observations revealed more of the large creatures’ vocal communications until at last, the leanest of the hunters found it could mimic and understand them. This hunter was quick and vicious. Its task was to pick a pack, kill its leader, and take control of the rest by mimicking their cries. It went on its way, leaving one remaining hunter to secure a force. The one who had brought its siblings to this place.

The hunter considered what other types of creatures they might need. Its sole purpose was to be an assassin of its master’s foes, but all of the Ravener’s higher monsters were also armed with instinctual tactical knowledge from their moment of birth, giving them the ability to command dungeons and guide the forces the dungeon cores created.

From this knowledge, it understood that—for its purposes—their forces were still lacking. To kill their quarry, they would need cover. Enough to turn the mortals’ eyes on their horde while the assassins engaged their target largely unopposed.

Its scarred sibling would bring one or two large, powerful monsters—they would be their champions. Its lean sibling would gather a pack of the hulking humanoids—they would be their elites.

A champion could be broken by an enemy champion. Elites could also be cornered by enemy forces. What they needed was fodder. Numbers to work and spread an enemy’s force thin for the ultimate distraction.

Its task would be to search for that fodder.

It soon found the perfect subjects to give them those numbers.

Groups of short, large-eared creatures stalked the wastes away from where they’d found their other choices. They were numerous, vicious and worked well together.

The little beasts cornered some long-necked creatures as they travelled from glowing hole in the earth, to glowing hole in the earth. They hid beneath the dusts of the wastes, then sprang up when their prey was among them and attacked, injuring their target with thrown rocks or clubs of scavenged bone.

Then they jumped on the wounded creatures from all sides, spreading their mouths impossibly wide and sucking flesh from bone. The shock killed the creatures quickly.

The hunter was impressed by the little creatures’ savagery. It could almost believe they were a creation of its master or one of the dungeon cores. It studied these curious creatures almost lovingly. Learning and listening to each call, cry and chirp they made.

It stalked them through all hours of the day and night; unheard, unscented and unseen. It learned from its early days, and was far better at remaining undetected.

It listened to their growls of anger.

It mimicked their coos of contentment.

It learned their howls of excitement.

And then—after a time—it understood.

Its voice box moulded and changed by its will, and it went amongst them. The hunter showed itself to them and called to them in their own familiar vocalizations. It almost relished the creatures’ shock as—for the first time in existence—they found a creature not of their kind that spoke to and understood them.

Some were suspicious—and hungry—and attacked the hunter.

Its claws tore apart their flesh.

The rest fled, and it followed them back to their lair.

Then it called out, mimicking the cries that younger creatures made when they challenged a leader for dominance of their group. At first, they responded with hurled rocks, but the hunter persisted. It killed any who ventured out to fight, ceaselessly continuing its cries of challenge.

At last, the little creatures’ leader had no choice but to accept the challenge or risk starvation in their lair.

It cried out its return challenge and fought with all it had.

But the hunter was one of the Ravener’s higher monsters, and the little leader’s flesh proved to be delicious.

Through fear, the others unwillingly followed the hunter after that. It led them to other lairs, where more of the little creatures were found, dominating group after group.

During the time it was gathering its horde, it hoped its quarry might again appear in this wasteland. It only felt their presence once, and the one with monstrously powerful mana was also present.

Frustrated, yet patient, it kept itself well away from the area where such a powerful mortal was until they finally vanished.

At last, after many days and nights, the hunter had its horde of little creatures built. Enough to terrorize a number of mortal settlements if they were led well enough. And so, it returned to its siblings at their shared lair. Pleased to find they also achieved success.

The scarred hunter brought two of the largest bone creatures they’d seen. The lean one led more than a score of big, strong humanoids. And the first had gathered the horde of small, flesh-sucking monsters.

They examined each other’s offerings, finding them to be good and suitable enough to match a horde produced by a well-fed dungeon core after it had time to build its numbers.

Then came their next task.

The digging.

They picked an area that already possessed a natural complex of caves where they could hide their force from discovery. They hunted meat for them, keeping them well-fed, and used commands and vicious power to keep them in line. The first hunter set its horde of little creatures to begin digging far enough from the wall to avoid detection by the mortals, but close enough to tunnel beneath it.

The mortals would not expect this.

The hunters found no monsters in the waste that could organize, build or direct themselves to a single purpose. Their little creatures were excellent diggers, but had no interest in what lay beyond the wall and its dangerous defenders.

Now, they worked to the hunters’ purpose, and that single purpose would drive them like a claw drove into a wound.

They tunnelled deeply, but quietly, keeping most of their activities to the coolness of night.

The work seemed slow—and many times, the hunters wished their master’s dungeon cores could live beyond their homeland. They would be useful to quickly bend the terrain to their will—but, with their horde’s numbers, steady progress was made through the dry earth.

When their force broke through the last length of dirt, the three hunters celebrated, cheering in human sounding voices. Earlier, they scouted a small forest quite far from the wall. A wood large enough to hide their gathering force, and far from the notice of the wall’s defenders. The tunnel was then widened for the bone creatures to get through, and then they would wait.

Their plan was to set up a small lair in that area and push into the mortals’ city.

At least that was their plan.

Opportunity came in strange ways at times, however.

Unexpectedly, the hunters’ pings returned something intriguing.

Their prey was on the move.

Chapter 75

Isolde’s Dread

The patrizia’s ball completely snuck up on Alex. He couldn’t really blame himself for almost forgetting about the upcoming party: life had been busy.

Very busy.

But in good ways.

“2,950, 2,960.” The city’s accountant counted out the small mountain of gold coins on his desk. “2,970, 2,980, 2,990 aaaand 3,000 in all. Divided amongst all of you…”

He peered over his lenses at the small crowd filling the hall in front of his desk.

Alex was there, of course, along with Theresa, Khalik, Grimloch, Nua-Oge, Shiani, and Isolde.

“…Seven ways?” he asked.

“Eight,” Khalik said.

Caramiyus and Angelar—despite being present for the fight—decided against taking a share of the bounty, feeling they hadn’t really done much during the encounter.

“If we took some of the bounty, then everyone who was standing in that square should get some,” Caramiyus had grunted when the subject was brought up. “Thundar did far more than we did.”

“Yeah,” Angelar had added. “Maybe give him one of our shares.”

And so, they’d decided to split the bounty eight ways, with the eighth going to Thundar.

“Right, right,” the accountant said.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

He slid beads across his abacus.

“Easy mathematics, then. Split eight ways, that makes for a total of three hundred and seventy-five gold pieces each.”

Alex’s jaw nearly dropped open, and Theresa loudly coughed and hacked beside him, choking on some water she’d been drinking.

Three hundred and seventy-five gold pieces was a lot of coin. Sure, it was just a small fraction of the total bounty, but this prize was almost equal to his and Selina’s entire inheritance of four hundred and fifty gold coins.

It was a staggering amount of coin to him, and even more so for Theresa. It would be an absolute fortune for the huntress, since it was the largest amount of coin she’d ever received in all the years they’d known each other. He couldn’t help smiling thinking about what this would mean for her. Maybe she’d treat herself.

Theresa had really developed into a serious warrior these last months. A big part of the reason why they’d been able to take down the mana vampire was because of her all-around badass skills. If any of them deserved to treat themselves to anything they wanted, it was her; and Thundar and Grimloch.

Still, for his part, Alex was extremely glad for the coin. It helped him be able to afford to pay Lucia, pay for his mana conductor and the rope for the mana vampire, and still have enough for a massive increase to his nest egg. His funds were growing to the point where he could soon start thinking about regularly spending on ingredients for his own alchemical experiments. That was a thrilling thought.

After signing off on the receipt for the bounty, the group of mana vampire slayers emerged from the government office, chatting excitedly amongst themselves on their way to the infirmary.

Alex was still thinking about his finances and how it did really seem that sometimes when something good happened, more good stuff seemed to follow soon after. The mana vampire bounty wasn’t the first financial boon he’d gained recently, or might be gaining in the future.

First, he’d received the coin Baelin promised from the sale of the xyrthak’s eggs, which netted Alex fifty gold.

The sum shocked him. Everyone in the class received an equal share, which made him wonder exactly how valuable xyrthak parts were. Maybe that was one of the reasons Baelin suggested they start hunting monsters on their own.

Alex admitted the idea was becoming more and more interesting since the fifty gold from Baelin. Word spread rapidly around the city as to who had slain the mana vampire, and everyone involved in the fight was receiving a lot of attention. Other students were bombarding Alex and company with questions, offering to buy them drinks if they regaled them with stories about that night.

Even Carey London excitedly ambushed him, begging him to attend her group, calling him an ‘Unmarked Hero,’ and saying he would’ve made a perfect member for the Heroes. She’d even suggested he’d have made a ‘wonderful Champion or Chosen.’

Luckily for Alex, he’d been using the Mark to keep a straight face; otherwise, he would have burst out into hysterical laughter.

Derek had also come crawling out of the woodwork, showering him with offers of wine and an invitation to join his ‘little gentleman’s club.’

Alex politely refused them both—the phrase ‘a fate worse than death’ kept running through his head—yet Derek seemed a little too indifferent about the refusal, though he’d been the one who’d approached Alex, insisting he join him.

Whatever was going on with Derek, in Alex’s opinion, was largely his own business, and he hoped it would stay that way.

What was actually important to Alex was the talk of him being considered for a financial award from the university. Baelin and Jules had been busy lately, and also meeting in secret a lot. It was to the point where they hadn’t even had time to meet with him to field test Claygon’s combat abilities. Alex chose not to do the test himself, though he could technically do whatever he wished since it was his golem.

Even so, he’d decided it would be wiser—plus he wanted to share the experience with them—to have them there for the very first test to see what the golem was capable of in battle. So, he’d waited.

That had not stopped him, however, from taking Claygon with him wherever he went, whenever he could. He was extremely proud of his golem and wanted to show him off to everyone. His progress with Call Through Ice was going really well, and he was close to being able to cast his first second-tier spell. The first thing he would like to have done—if the spell could handle Claygon’s size—would be to teleport him wherever he was going.

Alex started taking the golem to class, letting him wait outside. Claygon would follow him around on campus too, and even carry his gear, which reminded him of the very first time he’d ever seen a golem on the day they’d arrived in Generasi. Practically a lifetime ago now. Of course, he’d also taken him to Shale’s, drawing lots of admiration from many of his fellow employees.

Lagor actually whistled when he’d felt it out using mana manipulation. “I don’t know who you know, what you found or what you did, but I can feel the power in that thing from halfway across the bloody workshop,” the half orc had exaggerated. “The craftsmanship is excellent too, I have to say, impeccable job you did here, Alex.”

Alex was relieved Lagor hadn’t asked to examine it too closely. He’d have a lot of awkward questions to answer if the crafter got too close of a look at the core. Then again, Lagor hadn’t asked to look in Minervus’ golems either, probably simply assuming there was nothing unique to see inside of them or in his.

Even now, on their way to the infirmary, Claygon followed the group through the streets taking huge strides, drawing eyes from everyone around. Alex supposed that even in this unique city, they must have made for a remarkable sight. An immense golem with four arms, bedecked like a warrior in fantastic plate armour, a massive shark man, and a cerberus.

Isolde glanced at the golem. “Alex, please tell me you’re not considering bringing that thing to my cousin’s ball?”

“No, not to the ball,” Alex said. “That would just be crude. I’ll have him wait outside.”

“Alex, please,” she groaned. “Why not leave it on campus?”

“Two reasons. First, I’m showing him off to literally everyone. I spent months of work and had to kill a mana vampire to get this thing done. If I could show him to the entire world all at once, I would. Secondly, the countryside’s still got monsters in it, right? It’d be pretty silly if I built a golem for protection, and left it on campus where… y’know, it can’t protect us.”

She winced. “But it’s so… garish.”

Khalik cleared his throat. “I cannot know your cousin as well as you, but he was a warrior once upon a time, was he not? I do not think he would be so sensitive to dislike Alex’s construct just because it is obviously built for battle. It is fashionable in most noble courts in the world for one to wear a sword on their hip if they are so inclined toward weaponry. Bringing the golem would be similar to that.”

“First of all, the golem is the size of a carriage, perhaps larger,” Isolde said. “The real issue is I think my cousin will love it. But to the other nobles… it is not so much like wearing a sword on your hip as it is showing up to an elegant party with a catapult or ballista dragging along behind you.”

“Do you mean to say that—in this land of wizards—no one attends parties with any constructs with them?” Khalik raised an eyebrow. “In all the merchant or nobility parties I have ever attended or heard tales of, what most people try to do is show off their wealth and importance. One’s own golem would be quite the statement of wealth.”

Isolde started to explain. “That is not to say that some in Generasi never bring golems to parties—”

“Hear that, Claygon?” Alex jumped in. “It’s party time.”

“Oh, by the elements, let me finish,” she said. “The golems brought to higher society are usually small. As in human-sized or smaller, and usually carved to look more like comely servants rather than a walking siege engine. Bringing this would be like attending a wedding with five halberds strapped to your back.”

“In our gatherings, it is common for our people to come with ivory spears in hand,” Nua-Oge said.

“Yeah. People would look at you funny if you didn’t,” Grimloch ground out.

“Listen, Isolde,” Alex said. “I don’t want to embarrass you, but I’ve been attacked by a mana vampire twice since I left Thameland. If cooler heads didn’t prevail the last time we visited your cousin, I would have had at least fifty dryad arrows in me. So, the moment I’m like ‘doo doo doo, I don’t need the golem,’ some horrible monster is going to jump out of the bushes and try and eat all of us. I’ll leave him outside, but I’m bringing Claygon. Besides… if anyone’s going to embarrass you, it’s not going to be my golem: it’s going to be me. Or Thundar. Probably both of us.”

“…Sadly true.” Isolde shook her head. “Perhaps Thundar will… show some restraint, at the least.”

“I am going to drink like it’s my last day on earth,” Thundar grunted as he shifted around in bed. “I don’t care if it’s wine, ale, cider, harder stuff; I don’t give a damn. If your cousin is offering, I will drain everything. I’m not gonna be happy unless all of you have to carry me back home.”

Isolde made a similar sound to a dog regurgitating a clump of grass.

“Now, see, Isolde?” Alex said, handing the minotaur a bag of ‘get well’ cookies he’d baked. “Claygon’s going to be useful! He’ll be able to carry Thundar back using only two of his arms!”

Isolde’s ‘sick-dog’ sound upgraded to ‘dying dog.’

Alex could barely stifle his laughter and Khalik was grinning.

Theresa gave Isolde a consolatory pat on the shoulder. “Thundar, it’s not going to be good if you get better just to drink yourself back into the infirmary.”

“Who says that’s what’ll happen?” the minotaur snorted, tearing into the bag of cookies with a vengeance. “I’m made of stern stuff. Hell, I survived a mana vampire, didn’t I? And there’s no way I’m going to drink myself down so hard that I’m going to miss out on dryad dancing. Besides…”

He glanced over at an empty tray on his bedside table and made a face. “What they feed you in here should be a war crime. It’s been nothin’ but gruel, gruel, some vegetables and more gruel.”

“Porridge and vegetables heal the body and fill your belly,” Theresa said.

He glared at her. “I don’t want to hear about the benefits of gruel and veggies from a woman who literally earned her keep by hunting meat for her town. Not a word.”

She shrugged. “The quicker you get healthy, the quicker you’ll be able to eat whatever you want again.”

“I know, I know!” the minotaur complained. “That’s what makes it so terrible. I know you’re right, and I don’t like it.”

“Hey, man,” Alex said. “The quicker you get better, the happier I am. Not gonna lie, I was pretty freaked out there for a bit.”

“Oh, there you go getting all mushy on me,” Thundar grunted. “I’m fine, and just happy to hear you horribly killed that thing. Wish they’d let you bring your golem inside for me to see.”

Alex made an offended snort. “He would have fit, you know. I don’t know what their problem was. Just a little bit of crouching and he would have gotten in. He fit through my apartment door no problem.”

“Alex, if you cannot understand why an infirmary might not want someone bringing a war golem to see one of their patients, then you might have a problem,” Isolde said.

“Oh, I do understand it,” Alex murmured. “Still gonna be mad about it.”

“That’s quite immature.”

“And that’s also my choice.”

“Well said.” Thundar nodded in agreement.

Isolde groaned. “Perhaps I can convince Giuseppe to cancel your invitations… Anyway, here are the readings and what’s due in your classes, Thundar.”

The minotaur groaned. “I am both glad you brought those and curse the day I met you.”

Alex laughed. “Hey, it’s thanks to her you get to go to the party with all the booze and dryads, right?”

Thundar snorted. “Yeah, you know what? You’re alright, Isolde.”

Khalik burst out laughing while Isolde gave Thundar a withering look.

Alex couldn’t wait for the ball to arrive with all of its fun and feasting.

They could use a peaceful, entertaining evening.

He glanced at Theresa.

And that evening could provide certain opportunities he’d been waiting for.

‘The right moment.’ At long last.

Chapter 76

Preparing for a Long-Awaited Party

The days passed, and the group of friends kept visiting Thundar as his health steadily got better. Meanwhile, Alex continued to improve his dancing skills. He’d actually gotten to the point where he was pretty good at a number of popular dance moves, and he and Theresa often practiced together.

He was getting more excited as the evening of the party drew near, even though that excitement soured a bit when he had to fork out more coin than he’d planned on for a suitable doublet and hose for the occasion. Apparently, the fashionable rich enjoyed bright colours. Brighter dyes were more expensive, showing off the wealth of the wearer, so naturally, all the dressy party clothes Alex found were made from brighter fabrics.

He’d chosen an outfit that was both richly coloured yet somewhat muted: forest green for the doublet and a deep wine for the pants. He’d even bought himself a domino mask, painted gold with silver lines that looked like vines scrolling throughout. Alex figured Isolde would never approve of him wearing his scary dragon mask from the Festival of Ghosts to her cousin’s party. Even though the idea was more than a little tempting.

Still, all things considered, he wasn’t going to complain too much.

Midterms were about to start and he was up to his eyeballs in studying. The upcoming celebration was nice to think about and gave him a mental break. As the date for the party drew closer, Thundar was well enough to be discharged from the infirmary, but under orders to continue a regimen of light exercise, a clean, softer diet, and lots of rest.

Before his discharge, he’d even received a surprise visit from a certain fox-tailed Cleansing Movement instructor who’d heard about him being attacked by the mana vampire. Alex and Khalik had been visiting him when she’d arrived and watched as their friend went from his usually boisterous self, to a silent, wide-eyed lamb.

While Khalik didn’t know what was going on, Alex had a grin that stretched from one ear to the next as the minotaur tried not to look like a flustered mess. Before she left, she showed Thundar some Cleansing Movements he could practice daily to help strengthen himself, and told him she hoped to see him back in the class soon. After she’d been gone for a few minutes, he got out of bed, snuck to the door and peeked out to make sure she wasn’t anywhere nearby. He let out an elated shout that brought staff running to see what was going on.

He was definitely feeling better.

Then—in what felt like a blink—the day arrived.

Alex looked over his fine clothes and mask, then took a deep breath and glanced out of his bedroom window.

He’d made a decision in the past week.

When Minervus died, he told himself he’d wait until the time was right to tell Theresa his feelings.

Well—after all they’d been through—he could think of no better time than an evening in wine country surrounded in good feelings, feasting and dancing.

And so, no matter what happened, he would confess his feelings to his childhood friend that very night.

In some ways, he’d been less nervous about fighting the mana vampire or the xyrthak. He kept telling himself it wasn’t the end of the world. He wouldn’t drop dead if things weren’t exactly perfect, and he wouldn’t die if she didn’t return his feelings.

But it would still hurt if she didn’t.

Alex remembered one of Theresa’s brothers confessing to the daughter of a local miller, only for her to explain she had a fancy for someone else. The young man had been inconsolable for about a week.

Then he started talking about his undying love for the Coopers’ daughters—all three of them. Her brother could be a little flaky at times.

Alex shook his head. All the thinking and ruminating about it in the world wouldn’t change anything. In the end, he would pick his moment, tell her the truth and wait for her reaction. There was nothing for it other than that.

The least he could do was look his best.

He checked the mirror, eyeing himself in his fancy clothing. The clothes looked good, tailored to fit his now statuesque build. His shoulders were broad, his arms thick and his waist and hips slender.

All of the weightlifting had actually given his legs and even, er… his behind a surprising amount of muscular bulk. The hose almost seemed too tight in places now. He fixed his hair: now quite a bit longer than it had been when he’d first gotten to the city.

He had to admit, he sort of liked the way it looked. He’d been used to keeping his hair well-barbered to look proper for his job at the bakery. McHarris’ mantra was that all his assistants must look like ‘good, decent men and women, not brigands.’ Toraka Shale didn’t much care what sort of beard or hair styles her workers wore, as long as their hair was tied back and they kept themselves covered for safety so the work carried on without avoidable problems.

Now that his hair was growing out, though, it gave him a bit of a roguish look, especially with his fancy masquerade ball mask.

“Well, this is as good as it’s gonna get,” Alex said, turning in the mirror a final time. “It’s showtime.”

He picked up his bag.

In it were a series of freshly brewed potions he’d made in his lab time with Amir. He had two Potions of Haste, along with Potions of Sensory Enhancement, Flight and his booby-trapped versions of flight spells. He also had a new potion, the last one he’d brewed during his lab time: a mana-soothing potion.

In the textbook, there was a recipe for a version of a potion one could brew that disrupted mana, but he figured the Mark would see that as an attack weapon. He’d been working on a more extreme version of the mana-soothing potion instead.

He got the idea from a time when he’d been meditating and became so relaxed, he’d fallen sound asleep. If he could brew a version of the mana-soothing potion that could relax one’s mana pool so much they’d have trouble getting their mana to actually move for a while, he’d have an excellent weapon against mana-rich creatures like xyrthaks.

The formula wasn’t finished quite yet, but if it worked, it could be a promising non-obvious ‘weapon’ when it was done.

He put the thoughts of potions out of his mind when he emerged from his room and found no one there, which wasn’t surprising. Theresa had taken Brutus, and she and Selina went over to Isolde’s so the three of them could get ready together. They were all going to meet up by the sky-pier on campus. Alex decided to go around the insula to fetch Khalik, only to find the prince already making his way to his place.

“Khalik!” Alex spread his arms out when he saw his friend. “You look great!”

The Prince of Tekezash was still hiding his royal heritage, but that had not stopped him from using his royal wealth. He wore a long, fine robe of crimson silk, trimmed with gold lettering. Filigree in magnificent designs covered the robe, which stretched around his broad shoulders. As much as Alex had undergone a heroic physical transformation, the prince too had grown more defined and muscular from their training. He wore a pair of rings on each hand, and sashed at his waist was a long, curved sword.

“Haha!” Khalik grinned through his freshly trimmed beard and golden-painted mask, which resembled the upper part of a wolf’s head, complete with the top half of its snout. “Funny you should say that. I was going to say the same to you!”

They clapped each other on the shoulder and excitedly talked as they made their way out of the insula and through the grounds. Waiting outside of the complex was Claygon, standing with all four arms folded across his chest like a permanent guard at the entrance to the insula.

A single mental command called the golem to Alex, and he followed closely behind the two young men. A cry from above signalled Najyah had left her perch and was flying after them.

The two young wizards’ grins widened as they drew appraising looks from the other students on campus. Khalik chuckled like an excited child. “This is the first time I have ever gone to a formal event without at least twenty warriors to guard me. It is so funny… a little dangerous-feeling, wouldn’t you say?”

“Not really,” Alex said, smiling warmly at Claygon. “Not with Claygon the Unstoppable behind us.”

Was it his imagination or was he getting a feeling that the golem was also proud of itself?

“Indeed. It must not seem strange to you,” Khalik said. “But to go to any social event without an honour guard is… it is unheard of for most…” He glanced around and dropped his voice to a whisper. “…royalty in all places in the world. We usually must be under guard or have servants. But here, I am merely Khalik, a young man about to have fun with friends.”

“Yeah, your life is so different from mine, man.” Alex chuckled. “Did your parents decide not to send you more guards?”

The prince took on a naughty grin. “I wrote to my brother and he interceded for me, telling them he would take care of sending my replacement entourage.”

“Whoa, did he lie?”

“No, no. But he might have shifted the truth on how long it would take to send this entourage. His aim and mine is to buy me as much freedom as possible, and even when he eventually sends guards, they will not only be men and women who can hold secrets, but far fewer than the entourage they sent with him when he came here to study.”

“He sounds like a good, understanding man to have for a brother.”

“I would say so, though I am biased, of course. But enough about me. You have never attended such a gathering before, correct?”

Alex laughed. “The most formal events I ever went to were festivals and weddings, and there wasn’t much pomp to them. Put on your nicest clothes and go with your family. Oh, and make sure to drag back your older relatives when they had too much cider.”

“I see.” Khalik chuckled. “Then we are both having new experiences tonight… And speaking of new things, I am definitely going to dance with one of the dryads. A prince of Tekezash might arrive alone to a party, but to spend the night alone would be shameful. And what about you and our friend, Theresa?”

Alex swallowed. “Well, I’m gonna tell her how I feel.”

“Well, good for you, good for you!” The prince clapped him on the shoulder. “I am sure things will go well. If you need any aid, then I stand ready to assist.” He bowed playfully.

“Right, and if you need help talking to any of those dryads, I’ll do what I can.”

Khalik’s eyes sparkled. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. Between the two of us and Thunda—Ah, speak of the devil!”

Alex started. “Hobb’s around?”

“No, no, look!” The prince nodded ahead.

“Heeeeey!” Thundar was waving at them.

He was dressed in a fine tunic that fell to the knee. It was bleached white and stood out in the evening light. A massive leather belt was wrapped around his waist, complete with an enormous silvery buckle with a bull’s head design. His wooden mask was painted green and was cleverly designed to cover his horns, making them appear like the antlers on a stag.

“Well, well, boys, aren’t you lookin’ sharp.” Thundar grinned. He had distinctive bronze bracers around his wrists. “Looks like I won’t get all the attention, after all.”

Alex snorted. “The only attention you’re going to get is from all the healers when they have to drag your drunk ass out of the hall.”

“Hah!”

“Seriously though, man, how are you? You feeling alright? You sure you’re up to this?”

“Alex, Alex, you’re acting like my grandmother. I’m more than fine; I’m ready to go!”

“Ah, you do look healthy,” Khalik said. “And your magic?”

The minotaur snorted. “The healer said it’s a few more days until I can use it properly, so to hold off for now or I’ll damage my mana pool. But the only magic I’ll be working is on the dance floor anyway!”

Alex burst out laughing. “Try not to step on anyone’s feet with those massive hooves of yours.”

“I am all grace.”

“You’re the size of a small bear.”

“A small, graceful bear.”

Laughing and ribbing each other, the trio made their way to the sky-pier and waited for Isolde, Theresa and Selina. Claygon stood beside them, two arms crossed and two by his sides.

They did not have to wait long.

Alex actually gasped when he saw them making their way toward the sky-pier with Brutus.

Isolde was all decorum and elegance in a regal black gown that emphasized her height and grace. Her black hair was piled atop her head and inter-woven with pearls. A black domino mask traced with white lines obscured her face, and she held a short walking stick that had a silver pommel stylized like the head of a wizard’s staff.

If Alex knew Isolde, that stick probably served as a sheath for a thin sword or long knife.

Selina looked adorable, like a princess out of a fairy tale. Her calf-length dress was a soft blue and puffy in ways that made her look like a little doll. Covering the top of her face—flaming red from embarrassment—was a blue mask whose sides were like butterfly wings. Her hair was twisted together in a thick braid hanging down her back.

But it was Theresa that made Alex’s breath catch.

She wore a forest-green velvet gown woven in with emerald-green silk in designs that looked like ivy crawling over the dress. Her black hair was swept to the side, a mass of soft curls piled high like Isolde’s, and held in place by what looked to be a laurel of leaves. The lower part of the long gown was a half skirt, open in the front from the waist to the ankles to show deep green leggings and soft, knee-high boots. Sheathed at her waist was her ancestral sword, and the simple mask that covered her eyes was of the same green velvet as her dress.

“Wow,” Alex murmured. “You all… look great.” His eyes took in Theresa all over again. “You really look great.”

A blush went through her cheeks. “Thanks… you too. You really do.”

“How do I look? How do I look?” Selina asked the three young men excitedly.

“Like a fairy,” Thundar said.

“Like a princess.” Khalik smiled.

“Like a goblin princess—Aargh!” Alex cried out as Selina punched him in the arm. “You little rat! Who taught you to do that?”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He stuck his out right back.

“Oh, by the elements, this was a mistake,” Isolde groaned. “This was a mistake. We are going to get there, you are going to humiliate all of us, and then I am going to have to beg for my cousin’s forgiveness…”

“Yeah, Selina, don’t ruin Isolde’s night,” Alex said.

“I was referring to you.”

“What did I do?”

“Instigated everything. As usual.”

“Oooh bah,” Alex said. “I’ll behave, grandmother.”

Before Isolde could fire back, Thundar pointed up to the sky. “Look, there’s our ride.” He whistled. “Would you look at that.”

For the evening, Isolde had taken care of their transportation, renting out a sky-yacht for the round trip. It was beautiful, with every inch of its hull carved with scenes of spirits and cherubs frolicking and dancing together. The figurehead was that of a swan’s head, and the vessel was long enough to match a small sailing ship, but narrower.

“Our chariot awaits,” Isolde said. “Let us make this evening one to remember. And… I am glad we all get to be together. Perhaps this shall make up for our mana vampire-ruined dinner.”

The first hunter yipped to the little furry creatures, urging them to flood out of the hole faster. Small monsters poured from the tunnel and scattered in all directions to make room for the larger humanoids.

At last, one of the bone creatures crawled from the burrow. It rattled its jaw at the other monsters, but the scarred hunter kept it in line with a threatening rattle.

The lean hunter looked to the others.

It too had sensed movement from their quarry. Their prey had begun moving away from the city, coming closer, though seemed to somehow be moving high above the ground. The lean hunter suggested it should quietly investigate on its own.

The other two agreed. It melted into the trees and loped away through the countryside by the evening light. It would gather information and return to its siblings with knowledge of their prey’s whereabouts. Then it would lead them and their horde to the place where their quarry was.

From there, they would make their kill.

Chapter 77

Reflections Under Moonlight

The sky-yacht cut through the air, soaring above the countryside at speed. It banked and slowed as it approached the patrizia’s grounds. There were a great number of sky-yachts and gondolas pulling up to the airspace above the manor, and the road below was filled with fine carriages conveying their wealthy passengers.

Theresa sighed as she gazed upon the evening sun making its way toward sunset. Alex couldn’t help but stare at her graceful neck and shoulders, left bare by her dress.

His eyes drifted up to the smile curling her lips.

Behind him, Khalik was talking with a very excited Selina, allowing him and Theresa to have a private moment. Isolde was again instructing Thundar in etiquette—an effort she’d been drilling into all of them for weeks. Except for Khalik, whose manner showed her he obviously didn’t need the lessons.

Najyah was perched on Claygon’s shoulder. The massive golem sat still and silent in the middle of the deck toward the back; every bit the ferocious statue that could have been a part of the ship. The crew members gave him a wide berth, despite the fact that they must have transported clients with golems before. It was probably as Isolde said, the other golems hadn’t looked like siege engines.

He returned his attention to his childhood friend.

“What’re you thinking about?” Alex asked, gripping the rail in front of him.

Their hands were close.

“Everything,” she said dreamily. “Our lives.”

“What about our lives?”

“Look how much they’ve changed, Alex.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Eight months ago—no, a little more now, we were back in Alric.”

A seriousness formed in her eyes and she glanced over at the crew. Her voice lowered. “Do you remember when we sat under the tree at the edge of Coille Forest, when we were leaving?”

Alex thought back to that time. They had slipped out of Alric, barely avoiding the priests, and had been let through the gate by Peter and Paul.

He wondered how the two guards were, and hoped they’d remained safely out of the reach of the Ravener’s monsters.

After a day of walking, the four of them had made it to the outskirts of Coille Forest and made camp beneath a tree. Selina had just gone to sleep, and then…

“I remember,” Alex said. “We talked about me leaving and you wanting to leave when you were younger. You said you wanted to go and be like your great-grandfather, exploring the world… but decided it’d be too dangerous and that you would stay home instead.”

“Good memory,” she said.

“Well, I gotta be good for something, right?” He chuckled, and then flexed, his thick arm muscles bulging in his shirt. “I mean, besides being eye candy and modelling for marble statues.”

She snorted, but he noticed how her eyes lingered on his arm. “Actually, as much as I want to call you lame, that’s part of what I was thinking about. There we were, under that tree, and I was talking about how I had decided to stay home to keep out of danger.”

“Yeah. You said dangerous stuff sounded pretty fun to hear about, but that it was, you know, dangerous, and so you thought about growing up and keeping safe.”

“That’s right, because I didn’t want my family to be devastated if something happened to me,” she said. “But… we’ve been in so much danger since we left. Maybe nothing like what we would have had to face during one of the Ravener’s attacks, but still… mana vampires, xyrthaks, the Barrens… you and that demon. Magic.”

“Yeah. It’s been a lot, hasn’t it? Even the dryads.” He looked to the nearby forest as the sky-yacht approached the ground. “And yet, here we are, back again, haha. And I’m pretty sure Khalik and Thundar won’t rest until they dance with one.”

She shook her head. “And that’s just the thing. I’m having the time of my life, Alex. And my life… and I think your life, is better. I mean, I have more money than I’ve ever had. Ever. I could go home right now, save a little more and buy my own inn if I wanted. You met Isolde in Baelin’s dangerous class, and thanks to her…”

She gestured down at her dress almost in disbelief.

“I’m wearing this and—” She pointed to the patrizia’s manor. “—get to come here and life’s just… better. I liked Alric and our lives there, but things are so exciting now. Every day is something new. I’m growing stronger and learning so much. You and I… we’re proving ourselves just like Great-grandfather did, and we’ve met so many amazing friends.”

Theresa paused, and Alex caught a guilty look passing over her face.

“What is it?” he asked.

“No, forget it,” she said.

“No, no, don’t do that,” Alex said. “I’m a big boy, you just tell me what’s on your mind. Any time. Any place. Anywhere. Understand?”

“Are… you sure?”

Alex put a hand on hers. “Any time. Any place. Anywhere.”

Theresa looked up into his eyes for a long moment before sighing. “I just… sometimes I think what would have happened if I didn’t come into your room that night. If I hadn’t seen you and if you’d just gone off on your own. My life would be so different. I’d probably be with my parents and brothers, and while that would be nice… I wouldn’t have started life enforcement like Great-grandfather, I wouldn’t know this amazing place. None of it. I wouldn’t have grown at all. I’d just be that same old Theresa.”

“I liked that old Theresa,” he said emphatically. “Just as I like ‘new Theresa.’”

“Right, and I like old and new Alex. But look at you. You’re so strong now in so many ways. You’re having the time of your life and…”

“And what?” he asked.

“…Sometimes I think you getting the Mark might have been… maybe it was a bad thing, but maybe a lot of good came from it too. I’m almost glad you got it now.”

Alex froze as Theresa turned away.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

Her hand slipped out of his.

“We are ready for passengers to disembark!” the captain announced.

“Alright,” Isolde said. “Let us go. I already see Vincenzo waiting below.”

Alex turned to Theresa. “We’re going to talk about this, okay? Soon. Like, literally after we get into the ballroom.”

She nodded, her cheeks flaming red.

Alexander Roth, the Fool, and runaway Hero of Thameland, considered carefully what Theresa said. The thought had crossed his mind before; once, in Jules’ lab when—in his ignorance—he’d wondered if other people could detect the Mark or could remove it.

At the time, he’d considered if he wanted it gone and how it had changed his life.

Now, he wondered about other things as well.

He considered certain things he had before, and how his life would have been different without the Mark. For one thing, his life in Generasi would have been a far safer one. It may have occurred to him before, but now—since slaying both a mana vampire and a xyrthak—he truly began to question if it would have been a life he’d have preferred.

The Mark had taken much from him. Only now was he starting to get close to being able to cast force missile, though he doubted it would ever be useful in combat. Certain paths of magic were closed, and there were struggles when he’d first gotten to the university.

But he’d also gained a lot from it.

If all had gone as originally intended—no Mark, no Ravener or anything like that—he would have come to Generasi and likely focused on himself, his studies and his sister. He possibly might have made friends with Khalik, but he’d only gotten to know Thundar, Isolde, Baelin and the others because of COMB-1000.

He wouldn’t have built anywhere near as much strength of mind if it weren’t for the Mark’s interference. The Alex who’d been focused on only being a baker’s assistant and then a wizard had never shown any interest in physically building himself up.

Not until the Ravener’s threat forced him to want to prepare himself.

He wouldn’t have had a golem if it weren’t for the Mark increasing his learning speed and skills in alchemy, or obtaining the dungeon core’s remains…

…Theresa might have come with him, or she might not have. He didn’t know.

It made him wonder if—at the end of it all—he was actually better off having the Mark than not having it. That wasn’t to say the Mark didn’t frustrate and cause him problems, but perhaps more good had come from it than not.

He was contemplating this as Vincenzo—the patrizia’s butler—called them forward.

“Lady Von Anmut.” He nodded to Isolde. “The patrizia will be so glad to see you have arrived. Do come in; I shall announce you and your other guests in the main hall.”

He glanced toward Brutus and then Theresa. “Shall I direct your handsome pet to the groundskeeper so he might be reacquainted with the patrizia’s hounds?”

“Yes, that would be great.” She stroked one of Brutus’ heads. “Be a good boy now and have fun, okay?”

The massive cerberus whimpered and gave her a lick then Selina, and—to Alex’s surprise—gave him one too.

He watched in amazement as Brutus trotted off with the groundskeeper when the older man appeared.

That was another change too. Would he and Brutus have such a good relationship if they hadn’t gone through so much danger together? He didn’t know. But all of the threats they’d faced had given him a much greater appreciation for the cerberus.

He smiled at Theresa, offering her a hand. “Shall we?”

His smile widened when she took it.

“Er, Master Roth, I understand that he is yours?” Vincenzo said, looking up at Claygon somewhat dubiously. “Will you be… er…”

“No, I’m not bringing in the golem,” Alex said. “I might be able to show him to the patrizia during the evening.”

“Of course, he would likely enjoy that. You may have your golem stand by the carriage house if you wish.”

“Right. Go and be good now, Claygon,” Alex said, adding what he wished for him to do in mental commands.

The golem turned and strode toward the carriage house, drawing gasps and eyes from the nobility and servants present.

“Er, the golem’s name is Claygon, sir?” Though Vincenzo’s tone was polite, he raised an eyebrow. Alex caught a flicker of disdain in his eyes.

To one side, Isolde made choking noises.

“Now announcing Lady Isolde Von Anmut!” Vincenzo announced. “As well as her party: Master Thundar, son of Gulbiff, Master Khalik Behr-Medr, Mistress Theresa Lu, Master Alexander Roth, and Young Mistress Selina Roth!”

They entered a ballroom taken right out of a fairy tale.

Many of the walls were made of glass like a greenhouse, and it was larger than the entirety of the Lu’s inn. Tables were set up on the sides of the room, heaped with trays of fruits, pastries and candied breads. Casks of wine stood at the ready on one side, with servants waiting to pour the contents into fine silver goblets. The aroma of all of that beautiful, delectable-smelling food made his mouth water.

Massive glass doors opened out onto the gardens where long tables were set up with dozens of chairs beside them. Servants bustled between them with trays of wine and finger foods. All was lit by the light from blazing fires in braziers, glowing forceballs, and fish-shaped illusions made of light that swam in the open sky above the guests.

A fountain of a magnificently carved, toga-clad woman pouring water into a pool at her feet rose above all. Alex watched as Najyah landed on her head, nestling in and watching the festivities.

Several men and women sat around tables outside, playing games of cards and…

Alex nearly burst out laughing.

There were honest-to-Uldar jesters capering about, entertaining guests—both young and old—dancing wildly, juggling balls and short, painted clubs. Selina giggled with excitement, clearly wanting to go see them.

In the centre of the inner ballroom was a massive dance floor, and a full orchestra—tucked to one side—played a slow, stately waltz.

As they were announced, guests turned around—all masked—watching as the newcomers entered.

“Hey, check it out.” Thundar nodded toward some guests outside.

They were clearly dryads, clad in leaf-tunics and masks made of wood, ivy and bramble.

“Well, you’ll know where I’ll be,” the minotaur said. “…Getting some food, but then you’ll know where I’ll be right after that.”

“No, no,” Isolde said. “First, we greet my cousin, and then you can go to the forest women and embarrass yourself—er, have a chat.”

“I heard that,” Thundar grunted.

“Selina, I think the first thing you want is to see the jesters from up close, am I right?” Khalik asked her, smiling.

“Yes! Can I, Alex? Can I?” she asked.

“Sure you can,” he said. “But let’s go greet our host real quick.” He looked at Theresa and lowered his voice. “And then we can talk. Preferably while dancing.”

High upon a lone tree on the grounds of the human dwelling, the lean hunter peered down, having tracked the strong pinging to the gathering of mortals. Its eyes were fixed on one tall figure in the light of the transparent room.

The Ravener’s quarry.

It had found it at long last.

Chapter 78

A Dance of Minotaurs

The hunter crouched low in the tree, studying its quarry, keeping its senses sharp.

Mortals moved around wearing face coverings and strange garments that appeared heavy. Good. They would be less mobile; this was to the hunter’s advantage. The quarry spoke with another human, one with a sword belted at the waist.

Another mortal also stood nearby with a sword.

The hunter’s eyes continued to scan the large crowd.

Many were armed with swords, but some carried different types of weapons. Each looked ready for battle. Warriors stood on the perimeter of a large green space and a maze of uniformly shaped bushes near the human building. All were safely tucked behind high walls of stone; the walls themselves not wide enough for guards to patrol atop.

Those patrolling the grounds inside the walls were clad in metal, and bore spears, axes on the ends of poles, and spiked metal clubs.

The lean hunter frowned at seeing so many weapons.

There was something else to concern it too.

A few of the mortals within the walls emitted waves of strong mana. Strong enough to suggest they had a connection to spellcraft. Spell users were dangerous. Their presence meant capabilities that were unknown and hard to predict.

For a moment, it measured the odds of simply sweeping in unnoticed, or slipping into the ranks of the humans and carrying out the assassination alone. The thought was quite tempting. After endless days of hunting, its prey was finally close to its claws. With the right moment, it could eviscerate the creature, escape, and be away to report success to its siblings.

…Though much could also go wrong.

If it were caught or killed, its siblings would be without its strength and information it collected.

The prey was vexingly surrounded by those who were well-armed, and those with magic. Altogether, it was not an insignificant shield. By attacking now, it might reach and eliminate the Ravener’s enemy, but if not, the mortals would be alerted.

If it escaped, the three of them would still have to complete the assassination by bringing their horde among mortals that were armed, possibly capable of magic, and definitely alert. Staging such an attack with the element of surprise eliminated would be foolish.

Another possibility would be the quarry fleeing to the city to alert the powerful magic wielders there. Giving them forewarning was something that must be avoided.

No, as tempting as it was to act now, the risk was too great.

The attack would need to be carried out soon, but only when all of their advantages were in play.

It slipped from the tree, keeping to the shadows cast by the nearby brush, and hugged the wall, eyeing the surroundings for additional threats.

Nearby, it found barking creatures that mortals often kept close to them, so it took care to keep its distance, avoiding them catching its scent. Taking stock of the area revealed numerous buildings, including one that smelled of flesh and another of grain. More steel-clad humans kept watch, protecting the inside of the wall, while others guarded the front gate.

It prepared to disappear into the countryside when it felt a strong mana.

A puzzling statue stood by a building within the grounds. The object didn’t move, but the mana pouring from it was enormous.

The lean hunter squinted at the thing, trying to see if it was alive or not. There was a vague familiarity to the mana, but the hunter couldn’t place it.

The assassin growled.

Its siblings would be warned of this potential threat.

Silently, the Ravener’s hunter bounded away with its information.

This opportunity would not last forever.

“Well, he was happy to see us,” Alex said to Theresa.

“He kept apologizing for last time too,” Theresa said. “It feels so strange… At home, we never talked to knights. I’ve never even seen the local lord. Have you?”

“That is something I would’ve told you for sure. If something like that happened back in Alric, it would’ve been in the top five most interesting things that ever happened to me.”

The orchestra switched from a waltz to a slower, calmer song. One perfect for intimate conversations in whispered tones. He noticed many of the guests were doing just that, and held out his hand to childhood friend.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“Yes. Any time.”

He smiled as he took Theresa’s hand and the two of them made their way to the dance floor. He temporarily activated the Mark, letting it refresh him on his dance moves, both slow and fast.

He held Theresa by the waist, and she placed one hand on his shoulder, their other hands laced together as they joined the other couples.

For a time, Alex just let himself enjoy the music and the moment. It was perfect. The orchestra was soothing, and the music blended with the clink of wine glasses and the sound of laughter outside.

Then Theresa spoke, drawing him out of his dreamy mood.

“I… want to apologize,” she whispered as they slow-danced toward the edge of the floor, out of earshot of other couples.

“For what?”

“For what I said earlier,” she said. “It was kind of selfish. This Mark gave you a lot of trouble and—”

“Theresa, I—”

“No, no, let me finish. Just because what happened to you made it so that I could live my life in the way I wanted… even better than I imagined it if I’m really honest, doesn’t mean I get to rejoice about my joy that came from your pain. It was a terrible thing for me to say.”

There was a lingering pause.

“Are you done?” he asked. “Because I thought about it, and I kind of agree with you.”

Her dark eyes widened behind her mask. “Really? But… you were so angry about it.”

“I was. Sometimes, I still am. But like… I was thinking about it earlier. A lot of good has come out of it. A lot. I dunno, I told you I liked the old you and the new you… but I think I might like the new me better. No question that there’s bad stuff too, danger and questions and things to be scared about in the future.

“It’s just, even that can be good. Look at all the things we’ve gained from facing monsters. And I don’t just mean money: friends, mentors, all of it. If it weren’t for the mana vampires, Baelin’s class… we wouldn’t have the opportunities we have now. Even the—” He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. Was it his imagination or did she startle a little bit? “—dungeon core is kind of a good thing in a way. And I know… it’s not all going to be sunshine and rainbows, and balls and golems, but we’ve been able to turn them into good things so far.”

“You really think so?” Theresa asked. “We ran away from Thameland so you wouldn’t be in danger.”

“Yeah, but that danger was different. Here, I’ve got a chance to learn and grow, take things at my own speed. Not be stuck in a battlefield as soon as this thing gets pressed into my shoulder. Honestly, Theresa… one day, I want to get rid of it or change it if I can, but for now, I’m happy. I’m happy here. I think, maybe life wouldn’t have been as good if I didn’t get it.”

The song changed, growing to a faster beat.

Alex and Theresa started and laughed when Thundar came roaring across the room, mug of wine in hand, and started to dance. He shimmied over to a table, drained the mug and slammed it down. His hooves clacked on the tiles as he jumped a tauric jig: often used to celebrate the changing of seasons by his people.

He turned and whirled, and clapped in time with the beat of the drum, laughing all the while. Some guests scoffed at his antics, while others—especially younger men who’d had a few drinks—laughed. A few even joined in.

“Alex! Theresa!” Thundar roared. “Join me!”

“You’re on!” Alex called, looking at Theresa. “Shall we?”

“Oh, I don’t know that one.” Theresa shook her head.

“Yeah, but neither do the guests. They won’t know the difference. Come on, just follow my lead and dance like you were at the Harvest Festival.”

Alex pulled his laughing friend toward the minotaur. They joined Thundar in his wild dance and were soon laughing along with him and the others.

The orchestra players, encouraged by their enthusiasm, played even more vigorously, and a group of tipsy young men and women formed a circle around them, clapping and cheering.

That was when the dryads arrived.

The women of the forest excitedly pushed their way into the circle, and Alex was surprised who came with them. One of them—a beautiful dryad with skin the colour of midnight—was dragging the secret Prince of Tekezash onto the dance floor. He had a massive grin behind his beard, and his wolf mask suddenly seemed fitting. Several young men and women were brought onto the floor by other dryads, and they all joined in with their own version of a wild dance.

The dryads leapt and turned like deer springing through the woods, while Khalik pirouetted with them. Through the crowd, Alex saw Selina… paying no attention to them. She was with a group of other children clapping wildly. Her eyes were fixed on a jester juggling opened bottles of wine without spilling any.

Isolde, meanwhile, was near her cousin.

Her masked face was buried in her hands in shame.

“Isolde’s never going to forgive you for this!” Theresa cried.

“So it’s my last night alive, right?” Thundar laughed. “Then I’ll dance like it!”

He called to Alex and Khalik, and the two young men joined him. They switched to a jig from Alex’s homeland, and danced in perfect step in a line, much to the surprise and delight of the others. All of that practicing together paid off. They actually looked like they knew what they were doing.

Then they went into a dance from Tekezash, of which Khalik was the master. Alex followed the complex steps and jumps well—thanks to the Mark—but Thundar stumbled through a couple, laughing it off.

Finally, the orchestra slowed, and many of the young folks stumbled off the floor, laughing, sweating, and seeking more drinks.

Thundar was being pulled along by a dryad who’d been dancing near him.

Another waltz played, and Alex and Theresa stepped into it along with Khalik and his new lady friend.

“They look like they’re getting along well already,” Theresa said.

“Oh, of course they are,” he said. “It’s Khalik. You’d have to be a pretty half-dead fun hater not to get along with Khalik. I mean, look at him!”

Theresa laughed. “Point taken… Hey, do it subtly, but take a look at that.”

Alex discreetly glanced to where she was looking to see that a young man had worked up the courage to ask the statuesque Isolde to dance. He was quite a bit shorter than she was.

“Well, good for her,” he said. “Glad to see she’s having fun too.”

“Yes, it’s not fair for us to hog all the fun.” Theresa giggled. “I’m not sure if I ever want this night to end.”

“You and me both.” He found himself slowly being drawn to her eyes. If the Mark had helped him get to this point in his life, then he had to admit, there was a lot to be grateful for.

His hand closed around hers a little tighter.

It was time.

“Come on, let’s head out to the garden,” Alex said. “I want to talk to you for a moment.”

“Oooh, I want to keep danci—” She stilled, looking at his face very closely. Alex saw excitement go through her eyes. “No, never mind.”

“Uh, if you want to keep danci—”

“Alex, take me off of this dance floor right now and tell me what you have to say. I want to hear it,” she said.

Excitement rose in his chest.

Was she so insistent for the reason he hoped she was?

They smiled at each other like two delighted children and began moving quickly across the dance floor. They made their way into the gardens and Alex spotted a quiet bench.

Holding hands, they started toward it.

Then they heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, Alex, hello, Theresa!” Giuseppe DePaolo’s voice boomed over the festivities. Alex slowly turned and saw him approaching them with an ‘I can’t wait to have a long chat’ smile on his face.

If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn he heard Theresa swear under her breath right before they greeted their host.

The first hunter listened intently to the report from its sibling. The news was good. Very good.

Their quarry was close and no longer in the protection of the city. Only a few mortals that might wield magic were nearby, and there were other mortals bearing weapons and armour that patrolled their prey’s whereabouts.

These things would have been an obstacle had they come alone.

The first hunter looked back, appraising their small horde. Now, they would not be so challenging.

‘Forward,’ it commanded the little furry creatures. ‘We are ready to hunt.’

The creatures hesitated, but slamming its clawed fist into the closest one brought them in line. Bone creatures and large humanoids also stepped forward swiftly. They were starving, and the threat of punishment mixed with the promise of food was enough to get them moving.

Night had fallen and moonlight illuminated their force as they streamed across the countryside. They avoided isolated houses that lay between them and their goal. They could not afford to be distracted.

Faster and faster the creatures advanced, and soon, the large building where the mortals awaited loomed in the distance. Beside it was the forest where the first hunter fought creatures whose heads were capped with leaves.

They would avoid that approach.

Barking out orders in unison, they drove their bestial force of monsters toward the human settlement. The small furry ones surged the fastest, keeping low to the ground. They would start the attack with stealth, following their instincts as ambush predators.

A rush of satisfaction went through the first hunter.

This was the way. This was their purpose.

To terrorize mortals while fulfilling the Ravener’s whims. To send them fleeing and dying.

And when they were frightened and disorganized, the hunters would strike. They would do it in that precious moment when their prey was most surprised.

The three siblings followed their horde, ready to take advantage of the confusion.

And chaos.

Chapter 79

Shadows in the Garden

“Are you enjoying your evening?” Giuseppe strolled up to Theresa and Alex, smiling behind a mask that looked like the face of a regal hound. “I was very intrigued by your dancing earlier and have to compliment your, um… vigour.” He laughed. “I was telling Isolde during your… display, that she certainly has some rather… exciting friends. It isn’t often that one group draws so much attention at one of my little parties.”

“Oh, we’ve been having a fantastic time.” Theresa smiled warmly. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun at a party for a long time.”

“Oh yeah,” Alex said. “You know how to throw a feast, your Excellency.” He made sure to use the proper term of address for Isolde’s cousin out of respect.

“I should hope so with all of the practice I’ve had over the years.” Giuseppe laughed. “But I hear that congratulations are in order. Isolde tells me you were partly responsible for slaying the mana vampire. We had no idea who finally caught and killed it, so you can imagine my surprise when Isolde informed me it was she and your group of very capable friends who had.” He shook his head as if in amazement. “There was a very loud sigh of relief from society when the threat ended, and we owe each of you our deepest gratitude.”

“Well, I’m not sure if it was as loud as my sigh of relief.” Alex chuckled. “I’m just glad the thing is dead. Actually, I wanted to ask, did—”

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Khalik and his new ‘friend’ were approaching.

“Aaaah, Master Behr-Medr, a pleasure to see you again,” Giuseppe said.

“The pleasure is all mine on this enchanting night… y—Patrizia DePaolo,” Khalik said, stumbling over the honorific for a moment. Though from different countries, the patrizia was of a lower aristocratic rank than the prince, and it took Khalik a moment to think of the correct way to address him. “Your illusionary lights are incredible, and the entertainment provided for the young ones was inspired.”

Alex glanced toward a peal of laughter.

The children were surrounding a group of jesters in a half circle, laughing and clapping as one of the performers hopped onto the shoulders of two others, forming a comical, swaying pyramid.

“It is always important to have something for them to do, of course. Bored children are terrors. I once had a winter party with only an ice sculpture and no entertainment for children. It did not go well and I learned from that disaster. The sculpture was toppled and quickly reduced to ice projectiles.” He shuddered.

Alex fought back a laugh.

Khalik raised an eyebrow. “I must admit, I am surprised to see young ones welcome. In noble society, it is customary for the young not to join events such as these until their debuts at early teenage years, is it not?”

“Ah, that practice remains common in other high societies, but it became an issue in Generasi.”

“How so?” Khalik asked.

“Well, keeping children at home during functions works well for many in high society because of the number of servants available to them. It makes for—” Giuseppe squinted into the dark.

“Something wrong?” Theresa asked.

“No, I just thought I saw something,” he said, peering at a tree beyond the estate’s walls.

Theresa looked in that direction.

“Perhaps a bit too much wine,” Giuseppe continued. “But yes, even a small country manor needs dozens of servants to function each day. Hauling water, cooking, tending fires, cleaning… There’s no end to tasks, and consequently, no end to the help you need. With wizards, however, they take care of much of their mundane household affairs using magic. It means that a single, wealthy wizard might have a manor as large as this and only have their family living there. No one else is needed for the day-to-day maintenance and function of the place.

“So, when they receive guests, their children must either be included and have entertainment provided, sent away, or hired help must be brought in to care for the children during the function. The latter two choices often ended in chaotic situations since wizards’ young children can pose… challenges, for non-wizards. Since Generasi is primarily a wizard city, some nobility have adapted to their way of doing things. Like me.”

“Your celebration is most pleasing,” the dryad said. “I am happy you invited my sisters and me.”

“Oh, Theresa and Alex, this is Sinope,” Khalik said, his eyes sparkling. “We met earlier by—” A candid smile touched his lips. “Hm, Patrizia, might I steal you from Alex and Theresa for a moment? There is a lovely painting in your main hall, and I was curious to know who the artist was.”

“Oh, which one?” Giuseppe asked.

“If you have a moment in your busy role as host, I can show you.” Khalik smiled.

“Ah, then I shall leave you for now, my young friends,” the patrizia said before heading off with the prince and Sinope.

Khalik turned and winked at Alex and Theresa as he walked away.

“…If I ever become very wealthy, I’m going to have a statue made of him,” the huntress said. “It’s going to be one hundred feet tall and made of solid gold. No, platinum.”

Alex laughed. “See, this is why I lo—” He swallowed the words, looking at the bench.

“Yes?” Theresa asked.

“I mean, come, let’s go have that conversation,” he said.

“Good, I really want to hea—” She stopped, squinting at the wall. “Wait.”

“Something wrong?” Alex froze when he saw the look on her face and followed her gaze. His eyes were nowhere near as keen as hers, and that was even before she started life enforcement, but he still squinted to try and see better.

His mind suddenly flitted back to those old tales. Of noble knights who were just preparing to confess their undying love to the one who had stolen their heart, only to be killed in some battle or tragedy before they could speak up.

‘No way,’ Alex said. ‘No way we’d be that unlucky.’

Alex reached out to Claygon, feeling comfort in the magical threads connecting his mind with the information processor in the golem.

“Hold on for a moment,” Theresa said. “I want to see something.”

This time, Alex’s mind went to all those other stories where the person who said, ‘let’s go see what that spooky noise is!’ was immediately killed.

“I’m coming with you. What is it?” he asked, following her as she walked deeper into the garden.

“I might be crazy… but I think I saw something odd.”

“What do you mean by odd?”

“Something came over the wall there. I think. I caught sight of ears; big pointed ones. It moved fast enough that I couldn’t really say for sure what it was.”

Alex’s worry started to creep higher. “Was it child-sized?”

He glanced back, noting the guards standing around the party. None of them seemed to be showing any concern.

“Yes,” she said. “Why, does that sound familiar? Like a monster from the countryside?”

“No… by your description, it sounded like a muupkara. But they’re not really supposed to be outside the Barrens. Not normally, anyway.”

“Right.” She frowned and approached one of the guards.

As far as Alex remembered, muupkaras rarely left the Barrens, if they could even get past the wall. He’d heard there were odd times where a lone creature—maybe from sickness—or a small pack slipped into the countryside and caused trouble. All in all, between the wall and being adapted to the dry heat, they rarely ventured outside of their dusty home.

“Excuse me,” Theresa said to the guard. “Did you… did you see or hear anything earlier? Near the hedge maze?”

“Not so much as a peep, my lady,” the guard said in a highly respectful tone. “Not to worry; the hedge maze is patrolled. You are safe within the patrizia’s walls.”

“Right,” Theresa said. “Can I trouble one of you to come with us into the garden? I want to see something, and you guards would know your way through the maze better than we would.”

“Of course, my lady, I think we can spare someone. Marco, go and guide his Excellency’s guests through the maze.”

A baby-faced guard scratched the peach fuzz on his cheeks. “Right, right.”

Alex was hyper-focused on everything around them now. The garden loomed ahead, empty and dark. Hedges reached high into the night, forming a maze capable of hiding a host of threats. Something twisted in his belly.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go out there,” Alex said.

If there was going to be an attack, leaving the crowd and the firelight to step into the darkness of the garden would be an excellent way to get themselves killed if there actually was something going on.

“Maybe you’re right,” Theresa said, equally as wary of the dark maze.

Alex caught a brief look of annoyance crossing Marco’s face. “That’ll be all, then?”

“What Marco meant to ask, is if he can be of any further service, isn’t that right?” The first guard glared at the younger man.

“That’s strange…” Theresa cocked one ear toward their surroundings, eyes fixed on the maze.

“My lady?” the guard asked.

“What do you hear?” Alex asked.

“There’re no more sounds out here,” she said. “No crickets. No animals. Nothing… I don’t like this.”

Alex felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

He remembered the silence-spiders attack back in Coille Forest.

The wildlife had fallen silent then too.

“Did you see that?” she said, pointing at the hedge maze. This time, Alex did see something. A small, shadowy form darting by the entrance.

“We should tell somebody,” Alex said. “Now.”

“Agreed.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” the older guard said, but he was watching the hedges nervously. “Marco, would you go and tell the patrizia there might be an animal in the gardens? I’m sure the patrol would have caught something slipping over the wall. Do you see them out there, Luigi?”

One of the other guards—tall and sporting a thick moustache—shook his head. “No, sir. Not for a time.”

Alex’s eyes searched for his sister. She was still near the jesters. He began to walk toward her; Theresa followed, as did Marco the guard.

Alex frowned, thinking about muupkaras in the Barrens and how they had hidden beneath the dust, waiting for him and his group to walk into their ambush.

“We’re being baited, I think,” Alex said. “If it’s muupkaras, I think they’re trying to lure us out there.”

“Muupkaras?” Marco asked. “This isn’t the Barrens, my lord.”

“Just… bear with me here—Selina!” he called.

‘Act natural,’ he told himself. ‘Let as many people know as you can, just act natural.’

Selina turned around, smiling at her brother.

“Alex, you have to see what the jesters are doing!” she said excitedly.

He took her hand, looking at the other children. They needed to get inside. Now.

Alex looked for Najyah, still perched on the fountain. Her eyes were far better than anyone’s there, but she—

‘By the Traveller, she’s asleep!’ Alex thought.

The giant eagle had her head tucked beneath her wing.

“Najyah!” he cried. “Najyah!”

She shook herself, startled and squawked at him indignantly.

“Najyah, I know I’m not Khalik, but I think you can understand me, right?” he said, glancing at the bushes. “Do you see anything out there in the gardens?”

She continued squawking, almost reluctantly following his gaze.

She fell silent.

A screech rose from her, shattering the night and drawing all eyes. Somewhere within the manor, Khalik’s voice roared out.

Theresa swore under her breath. “There!”

Her sword swept from its scabbard. Several guests gasped at the sight of the bared blade.

Movement. A lot of movement. The hedges rustled as if coming to life and a pair of eyes shone in the dark. Tiny, malicious eyes.

Then another pair. Then many, many more.

“We’re under attack!” Luigi shouted. “Monsters!”

His roar signalled the violence to begin.

A pack of monsters boiled out of the hedges, eyes shining and claws dark with blood. They snarled and screeched, charging at the surprised guests as their jaws opened wide, unhinging a vast spread of mouth filled with sharp teeth.

Guards shouted commands. Guests ran screaming, while some drew their swords.

The guards levelled their pole-arms with trained discipline and stepped forward. Najyah took off from her perch just as Thundar came tearing out of the ballroom.

“By my ancestors!” he cried.

Alex was beside himself. This could not be happening.

Crash!

Guards slammed into the muupkaras with their pole-arms, slashing and cutting into the little creatures. In the distance, a roar cut through the night, and a hulking form clambered over the wall with a swarm of muupkaras close behind.

A lean humanoid figure slipped over with them.

The battle swelled as more monsters flooded the garden.

It was happening; nothing for it but to adapt. Alex reached out with his thoughts—no time for a field test. This would be a real test.

‘Claygon!’ he called out mentally. ‘We’re under attack by monsters! Come to me, protect us and stop them!’

His golem’s mana responded through their mental link.

“Alex!” Selina cried.

“Behind me!” Theresa stood between the Roth siblings and the threat. The guards were holding them off for now, and more rushed in to join them. They looked well-organized and prepared.

“Alex, wha—” Thundar stumbled over to them.

“Thundar, can you get Selina inside?” Alex said as parents arrived to grab their children and pull them inside. “Get to someplace inside where guards are; where you can keep her safe!”

“I can figh—” The minotaur caught himself. “My mana. Dammit! I can’t cast yet. I’d be almost dead weight.”

Swearing, he scooped up Selina, who was reaching for Alex, calling to him.

“Hey,” Alex said. “I’ll be okay. You’ll be safe with Thundar and I’ll be back for you, I promise.”

The young girl called to him. “Keep your promise!”

“Stomp those monsters, you two!” Thundar barked, carrying Selina back into the manor. There was one youngster who was alone and crying, and the minotaur swept him up too.

“I’m going to go help,” Theresa said, looking back at Alex. “I—”

“Listen. I love you, Theresa. I have for a long time. Don’t. Die.”

“Really? Now?” Her eyes shone in her mask and her jaw trembled. “Fine, if this is how it is—I love you too, Alex. And if you die right after you said that, I swear I’ll find a way to bring you back to life and kill you again.”

Theresa stepped up to him, kissed him on the lips, then rushed toward the attack with a war-cry as Najyah swooped away. Mages had joined in the fray and were blasting magic bolts into the monsters.

Alex’s breath caught. All sound faded. The time between his heartbeats stretched to the end of the world and back. She loved him. By all the mercy of the Traveller and Uldar, and all the wonders in the great, wide universe, she loved him.

In that instant, all else was trivial: these monsters, the Ravener, and even magic itself.

All that mattered were those four little words: I love you too.

He didn’t know whether he wanted to weep or roar in triumph, but he had time for neither.

These monsters wanted to take this away from them.

And he would not allow that.

He concentrated, using the precious moments he had to cast spells and head toward the manor. He’d need the bag with his potions.

The incantations tumbled from his mouth and he used his meditative techniques to guide his way through the Mark’s interference. He had no time for old failures to parade through his head now.

Lesser Force Armour flashed into being around him and then went invisible. Next, Force Shield materialized in front of him.

Dryads rushed toward the fight, pulling wooden blades from their leafy tunics as they went.

Claygon’s presence neared, coming at full speed toward the building. Alex told him to go around and not through obstructions in his path, just in case he didn’t slow down.

Spells continued materializing around Alex as he headed for the sunroom.

Protective Force Crooked Long Rectangle—his version of Protective Force Weapon—materialized. Then Wizard’s Hand.

Finally, his trusty forceball.

Alex swore as he looked through the glass walls of the ballroom. Monsters were flooding the estate grounds from other parts of the wall.

He didn’t have time to run around inside getting his bag from wherever it had been placed.

Nothing for it, then.

Alex concentrated hard on the newest spell to his repertoire.

One he’d recently been finally able to learn.

His mind constructed the complex spell array, guiding it around the Mark’s bombardment. The magic circuit eagerly forged itself, almost as though it wanted to be created.

Then, it was complete.

He felt somewhere distant and cold reach out to him

A gateway of ice formed in the air then cracked apart.

His bag dropped into his hand as—for the second time ever—Alex had cast the second-tier spell he’d worked on for so long. The first time had been the day before while he’d been practicing it:

Call Through Ice.

Alexander Roth turned toward the battle, clad in his full array of defensive spells.

He reached into his bag and grabbed one of his booby-trapped flight potions and stepped toward the battlefield. Moving quickly, he swallowed a Potion of Sensory Enhancement.

“Alright, you filthy monsters. Prepare to have a bad night.”

Chapter 80

A Battle of Masks and Claws

The lean hunter moved through the winding paths within the hedges, stopping at the edge of the maze and peering onto the battlefield.

It was almost time.

The first hunter and the scarred one moved into position, slipping up beside their sibling with practiced silence. Their monster horde flooded over the walls, striking at the mortals with unrestrained ferocity. The plan unfolded just as intended.

Sword, spear and halberd struck flesh and parried claw. One of the guards fought against a surging pack of small monsters, only to have her arm caught in one of their mouths. The creature proceeded to suck the flesh from her forearm as she shrieked in terror, trying to drag the arm free of its jaws. Another guard ran up and stabbed straight through the monster’s temple with a spear. The muupkara collapsed—still clamped on the guard’s arm—pulling her down with it.

Large humanoid monsters surged forward, fighting to push through the guards’ spears. Soon the bone creatures would arrive.

Masked mortals joined the battle, some using swords and some casting spells. A large bird of prey swooped around the humanoids, tearing flesh and eyes.

Screams and roars filled the air throughout the garden.

Chaos.

Just as they had desired. Soon, the perfect moment to execute their task would come. They would be ready.

They had arrived within the walls a short time before, once it was clear the mortals were engaged with the beasts they dominated. There had almost been opportunity to strike earlier. The attack surprised the humans, and their prey had been alone, but it was deep within the defenders’ ranks with no clear path to reach it unseen.

The risk of attempting to fight their way through so many defenders had been too great, and their chance could have been spoiled.

Such a gamble was dismissed.

While they considered how to reach their quarry’s position, it retreated closer to the building. They had no way of knowing if additional defenders waited within the clear walls of the structure.

Every unknown multiplied the chance of failure.

And they could not fail.

Soon, more defenders would be engaged when the next part of their plan was revealed. When one of the bone creatures came onto the battlefield, the mortals’ attention would be drawn straight to it. Some would freeze with fear. Others would panic. The spellcasters would fire their spells. That would be their moment, using the cover of distraction to slip through the defences and corner the Ravener’s enemy.

The bone creatures would provide their path to success.

There was a group of masked defenders among the armoured guards. They did not look as imposing. Once all of the defenders were engaged—including the guards—the hunters would spring among the masked ones and cut them down with ease. Then they would proceed with haste.

The armoured guards would be firmly overrun with the little creatures and large humanoids, and would not be able to aid their prey.

Their claws would make short work of the quarry.

Still, studying the battle below, they recognized potential complications—some defenders seemed far more able in battle than they would have liked. There emerged a group of females in green—the first hunter recognized them as foes he’d fought in the nearby forest—and a very quick and skillful dark-haired female wielding a sword with intensity.

She was cutting down their small monsters with ease.

One of the large humanoids leapt at the dark-haired female, its arms raised to crush her. Each of her movements were nearly as quick as their own. She dodged around its advance and slashed a gaping wound through its armpit. Red sprayed like a fountain and it shrieked in agony. Another slash severed one of its hands and another opened its belly.

Its scream died. With an impact that shook the ground, it fell in a limp heap.

‘That one is strong,’ the scarred hunter growled. ‘She could hinder us. If she joins our fight, I will deal with her. You both finish our task. If the other forest-females join, I will deal with them too—even if I die trying. Kill the prey.’

Its siblings nodded their agreement.

They tensed when the quarry turned around, stepping away from the building.

‘Good!’ the first hunter communicated. ‘It comes back!’

‘Easier for us,’ the lean hunter rumbled.

Alex took in the battlefield at a glance.

Theresa, the dryads and the patrizia’s guards were making a fighting retreat back toward the manor, cutting down monsters as they went. Magic-wielding party guests were blasting the creatures with beams of mana.

Monsters fell in droves.

Najyah swooped down, slashing at the large humanoids’ faces and eyes—which Alex recognized as gorgers—with her talons. The monsters roared in pain and fury as their cheeks were torn open and one or both eyes were clawed out.

Some of Giuseppe DePaolo’s guests suffered grave injuries and were being dragged into the manor, bleeding from savage bites and torn flesh mauled by the muupkaras.

There was no sign of the patrizia emerging from the manor, nor did he see Isolde or Khalik. Claygon was still making his way around the massive building.

Alex would do what he could to reinforce their weakest points in the meanwhile.

He sent out his forceball and Wizard’s Hands, pushing them among the ranks of charging monsters. With a practiced ease won from battling monsters in the Barrens, he began to obstruct their paths. Tripping them up, grabbing arms, legs or feet, and pulling them down or up, and throwing them off-balance.

His forceball swooped toward one of the long tables—piled with food, punch bowls and wine—and ploughed through the feast atop it. Muupkaras and gorgers were showered with a hail of food, dishes, utensils, casks, and burning candles that assaulted them, causing their charge to falter. Alex rolled the forceball at their feet, bowling the creatures over and sending many falling over each other.

In moments, the ferocity of their charge had broken, and the nobles could go on the offensive against the stumbling, confused attackers.

Calling back his Wizard’s Hands, he reached into his bag and threw two of his booby-trapped potions into the air. The Wizard’s Hands caught them mid-flight and shot over the gardens at speed, swooping in front of a group of gorgers and muupkaras that had just scrambled over the wall.

Krnch. Boom!

Wizard’s Hands crushed the potion bottles, blasting a cloud of gaseous potion over the creatures, enveloping them.

For a moment, they were motionless.

Then chaos.

Screams of terror burst through the monsters’ ranks as—like a swarm of drunken bees—they flew up into the air in all directions, smashing chaotically into whatever was around them. Some shot high and disappeared into the night sky. Others catapulted backward, bouncing off trees behind the patrizia’s estate and knocked unconscious. A gorger shot forward along the ground—picking up speed—crushing muupkaras as it went and scraping its hide raw before ploughing into a tree.

They were the lucky ones.

Others fared far worse against the potion’s effects. They were torn apart as their limbs were ripped away—flying in different directions—or pulled in half when their torso tried to fly one way and their legs another.

Gore stained the ground and wall they had just scaled.

The gas worked well, keeping the monsters from getting close to the defenders.

Calling back his spells, Alex tossed a Potion of Haste into the grip of one of his Wizard’s Hands and shot it at Theresa, who’d just finished clearing through monsters around her.

“Theresa, catch! It’ll increase your speed! It doesn’t last forever, so only drink it when you need it!”

“Thanks!” she shouted as her hand shot up and grabbed the potion without turning around.

Alex’s counterattack and the resistance they’d met from the defenders in the garden had caused some of the monsters to abruptly halt their advance, while others began to flee. It looked like the horde might break even before more of the patrizia’s reinforcements arrived.

Only a short while had passed since the monsters’ attack had begun and things were already looking up.

But something was bothering Alex.

‘Why the hell are gorgers and muupkaras cooperating?’ he thought as he shot his Wizard’s Hands and forceball into their ranks again and again. ‘What—’

A horrifying roar cut through the air. One Alex recognized.

His blood ran cold.

Someone screamed, pointing at a spot along the wall.

‘No, no, no,’ Alex thought, turning toward the roar. ‘It can’t be.’

A giant, skeleton-like hand gripped the top of the outer wall. Then a second.

The massive face of a bonedrinker rose above the stones, its slimy, pseudo-tentacles flailing out of its eye sockets.

Alex could feel the collective horror that ran through the defenders. If that thing got to them, it would wreck them.

He called back one of his Wizard’s Hands and his forceball.

His mind raced as he began to reach for another potion.

Think. Ada—

His potion-enhanced eyes caught a flicker of movement in the shadows.

Three figures leapt out of the darkness, racing forward with terrifying speed. They tackled the defenders, slashing through their ranks like they were felling dried grass.

“Theresa, monster—” He started to cry, but the three new beasts had slashed through the weak part of the line before he could finish his warning.

They were heading right for him. Alex jumped back, trying to open up as much distance as possible between him and them, and fell into the first position of the Spear-and-Oar Dance. His hands rose into positions from the Cleansing Movements.

He didn’t even have time to grab any of his other potions. They were coming too fast.

Alex willed one of his Wizard’s Hands into a fist with the index finger pointed forward. He shot it down in front of the face of one of the approaching creatures at the last second—like he had with the mana vampire on Fan-Dor’s ship—but now, his skill in directing spells had vastly improved. The spell moved with precision, then abruptly stopped in front of the lean creature’s eye—too close for the thing to halt its forward momentum.

The monster bellowed as it ran full speed into the spell, poking out an eye in its rush. Blood spurted from the eye socket. To Alex’s horror, though obviously in agony, half-blind, and with a spell protruding from its face, it did not stop. Its determination was unnerving. He immediately shot the forceball down in front of its feet and—thankfully—the still charging monster tripped, breaking the charge.

But the other two reached him an instant later.

Up close, they looked like the creature the dryads described as having killed some of their warriors.

Then his world became a whirlwind of claws and teeth.

Alex yelled as he danced and dodged around a flurry of slashes and bites. He angled his shield to deflect a claw. One of his rectangles parried another, but shattered in the process. He weaved around the snapping jaws, and deflected claws using his force armoured arms and the flowing motions of the Cleansing Movements.

The claws were relentless. Each of the assailants was faster than the mana vampire. A lot faster. Despite Alex’s enhanced senses, his training, and all his defensive spells, it was all he could do to keep from being disembowelled by one or both of them. The fact there were two attacking him made the situation even worse.

He called back his forceball and continued to dance out of reach of their attacks. But every blow swooshed by closer and closer.

Another one of his rectangles popped.

His Force Shield deflected another.

Claws scraped across his force armour, cracking it. The strength of the blow sent Alex stumbling. A kick from one of the monsters snapped at him, threatening to knock him off his feet. He danced around it, but it clipped his bag.

Crk.

One of his potion bottles shattered and he cursed inwardly, wondering which one it was. He wished he’d had time to drink Flight or Haste.

Scccrrrk!

A searing pain ripped across his chest and Alex screamed.

His shirt grew wet and hot, but he had no time to check the wound. The pain grew, but the claws didn’t stop.

The force armour on his arm cracked.

A gash opened on his forearm.

Then another.

Alex cried out, gritting his teeth. The forceball and Wizard’s Hand shot between him and his attackers. His spell-conjured Hand tried to pull and drag the monsters, but they were so strong, the Hand’s grip couldn’t slow them. The forceball lasted long enough to be popped by one swift claw.

‘Just a little more…’ Alex thought.

He had to buy more time. Just a few more seconds.

One of the monsters—a creature with scarred skin—turned just before striking at Alex again.

Theresa had come roaring in from the side, her sword flashing in front of her. In an instant, the creature and she were clashing. To Alex’s rising panic, the monster was overwhelming the huntress with its speed and savagery. Despite her own speed, skill and enhanced lifeforce, she was pressed back, and the monster slashed her arm.

“Theresa!” Alex cried, starting to will both Wizard’s Hands toward her, but the lean creature whose eye he’d gouged out leapt at him. He needed everything he had to avoid having his face ripped off.

Suddenly, he was fighting two again. And things turned grim on the battlefield.

Back in the garden, the bonedrinker was being slowed by a series of magic beams, but it was pushing through, advancing on the defenders like a spectre of death. Then another bonedrinker crawled into the garden, drawing horrified screams from the defenders. Some of the brave folk now looked ready to run.

Theresa fought for her life. Another cut opened on her, but the scarred monster yelped as she managed to open one, and then two gashes on its arm. She leaned back from its bite, but it slid away before her sword could reach, then it leapt at her again.

Crunch!

One of Alex’s attackers cut through more of his rectangles.

‘Just… a little more…’ Alex thought desperately.

Schp.

A claw ripped his shirt and drew more blood.

He reached out with his mind. ‘Just a little more! The bone monster! Get the bone monster!’

The first bonedrinker surged toward the defenders, its tail whipping up to strike them.

Voooooooom!

And then flame.

A beam of fire magic blasted from the side of the manor, lancing through the air with a roar of flame and blasting the lead bonedrinker with a satisfying hiss of steam.

Bone cracked.

Flesh boiled.

Splort!

The bonedrinker blew apart in a massive blast of flame.

Both monsters fighting Alex paused and he glared at them.

“You’re in trouble noooow,” he snarled.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Thundering footsteps and flame heralded the coming.

Claygon had entered the battle.

Chapter 81

Claygon

The bonedrinker’s remains blackened and sizzled. A monster that took Baelin’s class everything they had to kill had been destroyed with a single blast from Claygon’s fire-gems. Their power seemed to have grown since Alex implanted them in the golem.

And Claygon wasn’t finished.

Following the last order from Alex as it came rushing to protect him, the golem raised its left palm toward the garden. Red light and heat built up in the fire-gem embedded in its palm.

Vooooom!

Another beam ripped out.

The second bonedrinker—farther back in the garden—tried skittering out of range, but the beam caught it in its side. Steam poured from its mouth and eye holes as its snail-like flesh cooked in a flash. Its bones blackened, then burst apart like crushed glass.

Flame ripped out over the gardens, setting both monsters and plants on fire. Screaming muupkaras and gorgers frantically rolled on the ground, desperate to extinguish their burning flesh. Some scrambled away from the heat and fled, scaling the walls to escape into the night.

As the hordes’ savage rush turned into a mixture of reluctant attack, retreat, fear and confusion, some of the magic-wielding defenders cast their spells to channel water from the fountain through the air into the hungry fire, drowning it.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The golem continued its unstoppable rush toward Alex and their enemies.

There was a snap as four massive hands coiled into enormous fists.

In the few moments that his two attackers paused to process what this new threat was, Alex danced away, drew his Potion of Haste, and drank it down.

Its power hit him in a wave. A surge of energy washed over him, sending a pleasant tingling coursing from his stomach to his fingers, toes, and even his head. As the potion’s effect reached his mind, the world slowed down.

All seemed to move at half the speed of earlier, and combined with the sensory enhancement potion, Alex took in his surroundings in an instant.

The monsters hadn’t actually slowed, but their movements no longer appeared as a blurring of claws, teeth and impending death.

Now he had time.

Now he could think

Now he could adapt.

He threw a glance where Theresa was fighting the scarred monster. It had also paused when Claygon appeared, and the huntress used its distraction to punish it by opening a long gash across its arm. That brought its focus entirely back to her. She managed to slash it a few times during the fight and things were starting to grow more even, but—alarmingly—its wounds looked shallow. The creature’s hide seemed hard to penetrate.

That one needed to die.

Alex shot one of his Wizard’s Hands toward the scarred beast.

The other two monsters finally recovered from their shock—though without the effect of ‘Haste-time,’ they probably had only paused for a few heartbeats—and closed in on Alex again.

Boom. Boom. Scrrrrp!

Claygon reached Alex’s side and skidded to a halt beside him. Four giant fists lashed out at once.

Alex felt the air shift as those colossal blows shot past him. The monsters dodged. Their speed was truly frightening, but Claygon was faster than he looked.

And Alex Roth didn’t play fair with monsters who were trying to kill him.

As the pair leapt out of the way, he noted which one moved slower: the leaner one.

Alex rushed at it with his hands rising up.

Slipping past its claws, he caught its arm in an iron grip, his powerful muscles flexing as he pulled in the opposite direction to where it was heading. Not to harm, but to slow it. Despite all of his strength training, he couldn’t match its own, but he could slow it for a heartbeat.

A deadly heartbeat.

One of Claygon’s fists came at it like a battering ram.

Bang!

The strike clipped the monster’s arm.

Crack!

A shriek of pain ripped through the air.

The lean one’s limb snapped like a dried twig and it went spinning, rolling on its side as though flung from a catapult. With its agility, it was back on its feet in an instant, but one arm dangled uselessly at its side.

Claygon focused on the other monster while Alex turned his attention to Theresa and the scarred one. The monster had cut her several times, though none of the wounds seemed to be too deep. Her agility was keeping the creature from overwhelming her, but strain was showing on her face. She was tiring.

He shot his Wizard’s Hands down.

Swooping them behind the scarred hunter, he tried to bring them in from its blind spot, but it reacted with almost supernatural reflexes, popping one of the spells with a single sweep of a claw.

The other spell managed to get through. Wizard’s Hand clamped over the creature’s eyes, blinding it.

It tried to rip the magical Hand away, giving Theresa precious moments to down the Potion of Haste. Her expression went full deathstalker as the magic rushed through her. She surged toward her opponent in a wave of steel and power.

The creature finally freed its eyes from Wizard’s Hand, crushing the spell in its grip.

And its eyes went wide, forced to scramble away, fighting to defend itself.

Within breaths, cut after cut laced its arms, Theresa’s sword slipping through gaps in its defences.

It was bleeding badly.

A screech brought Alex’s attention back to the two monsters menacing him. The uninjured one clambered away, dodging Claygon’s fists. Its lean companion leapt back into the fight—trailing its broken arm—trying to get through the golem’s barrage to reach Alex.

The young wizard rushed at it again. While a Potion of Haste was powerful, it wasn’t long lasting. He needed to hinder these two as much as he could before the magic faded.

Stinger-like teeth snapped inches away from his hand. He reached around to seize his attacker by the shoulder and spin the creature like a dancer at some bizarre monster’s ball.

It spun to the side, losing balance and—with one arm broken and one eye missing—it teetered, struggling to regain its footing.

Alex reached out to Claygon.

Whoosh.

One of the golem’s arms snapped out in a powerful backhand.

Crunch!

The monster tried to raise its good arm to defend itself, but it was pulverized against Claygon’s power.

The lean monster’s face twisted in pain and shock. That expression was immediately replaced by a big clay fist.

Alex’s attacker’s head was caved in and its chest collapsed. The crushed body flipped through the air, soaring over the line of defenders and monsters to slam into the garden wall and splatter like a swatted fly.

A chilling scream erupted from the direction of Theresa’s fight. The scarred monster was cradling a deep wound in its side. At last, its movements were weakening.

Alex’s other attacker scrambled back from Claygon, looking between its scarred sibling and Alex. Its eyes narrowed.

Then it did something Alex did not expect.

“I will hunt… you,” it spoke in perfect common tongue. “I will hide, and watch, and I will hunt you. You and those around you.”

Every ounce of warmth left Alex.

The voice coming from it wasn’t its own; it was one Alex knew intimately. It was his own voice. After uttering the unnerving words, it fled, giving an inhuman call toward its scarred companion.

Alex’s mind whirled. He didn’t know why the three creatures piled onto him. Whether it was because he threatened their forces or for another reason, much like the mana vampire, it had threatened to keep coming for him.

This time, Alex wouldn’t let a threat escape.

He sent Claygon a mental command to pursue, but the scarred monster jumped away from Theresa and moved to position itself between Claygon and its escaping companion.

Alex ordered his golem to advance.

Crunch!

Claygon trampled the obstruction into the stones, crushing the creature beneath his massive feet. Driven, the monster fought to get up, but Theresa stopped it where it was, slashing its throat open.

“Theresa! We have to get the other one! It can’t get away!” Alex ran after Claygon, charging the fleeing monster, keeping his eyes focused on it. For a moment, he was afraid the creature would climb over the garden wall and escape.

Instead, it turned, rushing around the side of the manor. Alex, fuelled with his Potion of Haste, continued the chase with Claygon close behind—being careful not to get too far from his golem. It occurred to him that the monster fleeing might be some sort of trap.

But it didn’t matter. A trap laid right now would be less of a danger than one laid months from now, when he’d have no idea when or if claws would find him on any dark night.

Theresa had started to run after Alex but quickly slowed, panting. Much of her dress had washed red. He didn’t know how much of the blood was hers.

“Theresa!” he cried, breaking off his chase to go to her.

“No! Don’t worry about me!” She waved him off. “I’m okay! Go after it, go after it!”

“But—”

“No! Get that bastard!” she insisted.

Alex grimaced, caught between his worry for her and his trust of her. In the end, trust won out. She was a warrior, and if she wanted him to bring down their attacker—which he also wanted—then that was what he would do.

“Someone help her!” he shouted to the defenders. “She needs help!”

“Go!” she shouted, sinking to one knee. “Don’t die!”

“You don’t die either!” He ran on, catching up with the sprinting Claygon, the monster still in their sights.

The first hunter could not understand how things had gone so wrong. They executed each part of their plan successfully, one step after the next. The monster horde distracted the mortals as they were charged to do, and it and its siblings had flanked the defenders. Their quarry stepped out and caused more damage to their forces than they thought it would, but in doing so, it left itself exposed.

Their group attack was perfectly coordinated. Its lean sibling losing an eye had been unfortunate, but it could still fight. They had set upon the quarry, and overwhelmed him with the weapons and fierceness granted by their master.

Infuriatingly, their prey resisted more than expected, but they would have brought it down. It was the female warrior who interfered. Yet thanks to its scarred sibling, she was distracted, and the kill at hand was only moments away.

Then that statue—spewing mana with an odd familiarity—ruined everything.

Now two of its siblings lay dead.

This was merely a setback. A hunter—tasked by the Ravener—did not give up, no matter how many times success eluded it. Victory could be snatched from the jaws of disaster. The hunter glanced over its shoulder.

Good. Its quarry still followed, foolishly thinking that it had become the hunter. The Ravener’s assassin increased its pace, rushing past the side of the human’s large stone building. More of their monster horde continued the attack from the front of the building, and two magic users fought them alongside human warriors. One shot crackling lightning while the other sprayed clay and spiked stones.

The hunter kept moving, glancing around.

Several buildings lay open before it.

Its eyes narrowed at the building that exuded the scent of grain.

Rushing through the open doorway, it passed among bags of powder and slashed them open with its claws. The more bags it sliced open, the more the powder flew into the air, creating an obscuring dust screen.

It held its breath to not cough from the rising dust clouds, able to do so for far, far longer than any mortal could.

The hunter continued to quickly tear bags open, working its way deeper into the shadows of the building. It would hide here—among the dust—and take its prey when it followed.

It would not fail its master.

Chapter 82

A Duel in Dust

Alex and Claygon chased the monster as it loped ahead and disappeared into a building with its doors wide open.

The young wizard recast Lesser Force Armour, guiding his way through the Mark’s interference. The spell briefly glowed with a crimson light then reformed as his mana raced through the magic circuits.

Casting the spell and getting around the Mark while chasing a fleeing monster took extra effort, but better to have the protection in place before they caught up to it. The more he and Claygon ran, the more convinced he became they were being lured into a trap. The creature had ignored a number of chances to scramble over the wall and escape, choosing to run into a building instead.

Why would it corner itself like that, it made no sense. Unless it was trying to corner him.

Alex guided himself through the Mark’s interference again, conjuring another forceball. He glanced at the battle raging on in front of the manor.

Khalik and Isolde were working with the patrizia’s forces, blasting the creatures with stone spikes and lightning. Gorgers were splayed over the ground—pierced by the prince’s spikes—while muupkara corpses smouldered from lightning strikes.

The patrizia led a group of guards in a charge away from the manor. Every swing of his sword cut down a monster and he barked orders as he fought. Alex was grateful the fighting was being kept away from the main building where his sister and Thundar were.

From the flank of the invaders, a grey-bearded man led a pack of snarling hounds into the midst of the creatures. Brutus was among them, tearing apart muupkaras with three sets of bloody fangs, fighting his way toward Khalik and Isolde. One of his heads would sniff the air and dart around periodically, clearly looking for his master.

The air had the tang of blood.

Even though these monsters seemed to be a lot more aggressive than the ones who’d encountered Claygon, they were showing signs of losing their nerve. Some were turning and running to the wall and slipping back over. It wasn’t natural to find so many different monsters cooperating together in the first place. In Baelin’s classes, he’d never heard of a single monster in the Barrens that could control other monsters. Nothing with the intelligence and the will to unite the predators of Kravernus into a single force. It made Alex wonder how this could be happening.

Since the creature he was chasing could talk, he almost wanted to capture it alive. It could speak, so it might be able to be interrogated. On the other hand, its actions also meant it was too dangerous to take any chances with.

Just as Alex’s Potion of Haste faded, he and Claygon reached the building the monster slipped into. They were standing at the doors to the patrizia’s granary. Alex grimaced, wishing he had another Haste Potion. The boost of speed hadn’t only helped him avoid most of the trio’s claws, but was the reason he hadn’t lost sight of the last one when it ran into the granary.

Glancing up at Claygon, he shook away some of his nervousness. It wasn’t like he was completely defenceless.

He wasn’t a simple baker’s assistant from Alric anymore.

His eyes squinted into the shadowy space. From rows of windows high in the walls, shafts of moonlight filtered through thick clouds of dust filling the air. On the floor lay torn open flour sacks. From years of working with heaps of flour at McHarris’ bakery, Alex understood that one tiny spark could send this whole granary up in an inferno.

He glanced at the nearby buildings. If that happened, the entire estate would burn. The wrong choice could turn the situation deadly for everyone nearby. That ruled out the terrifyingly effective tactic of ‘blow the monster up horribly with fire-gems if it gets too dangerous.’ He couldn’t lie to himself, though; he was a little disappointed about that.

The hard way it was, then.

He had Claygon. He had his defences. He had his wits.

And he had the Mark.

He guided his way through a final spell: Orb of Air, which he cast over his head. The little globe of air materialized around him. The scent of blood disappeared, and fresh air filled his lungs. The spell would also stop the flour dust from entering his nose, mouth, eyes and ears.

Alex took a final accounting of himself.

His Force Shield hovered in front of him, as strong as ever. His armour had been fixed. Forceball could serve as an extra defence, and he had a few of his parrying rectangles still circling his body.

His defences were still fairly strong.

The wounds on his torso were thankfully shallow. They weren’t bleeding excessively, but when he came through this—he had to be positive—they would need to be tended. His mind recoiled, remembering the pain from the slashing claws. It was the first time he’d ever received so many wounds from something trying to kill him.

And they were trying to kill him. Whether it was because he’d been a defender that was in the way of their goals, had attacked their horde, or—in his worst fears—it had something to do with Thameland, it didn’t matter.

In the end, the monster in the granary and its companions tried to take his life. They’d come the closest to succeeding of any opponent he’d ever faced.

Somewhere inside, a small voice screamed at him to run away.

Alex took a deep breath, acknowledged that incredibly valid fear, and let it go. Running away would always leave his back exposed to the threat from this monster.

Now—with the advantage of knowing where it was and having Claygon close—was the time to end it. With another deep breath, he sent his forceball ahead into the granary. As the crimson light illuminated the cloud of dust, he stepped in after it. He would need to get this done before the monster escaped and before the sensory enhancement potion wore off.

Sharp senses would be key.

Straw rustled beneath his shoes as he stalked through the granary. His movements were almost silent: his Mark-enhanced training in moving quietly was bearing fruit from months of practice. Sending his will to Claygon, the golem followed right behind him. It extended its lower arms on either side of its master, ready to block attacks that came from the side or front.

Alex had it raise its upper arms, ready to strike the instant either of them saw or heard the creature.

Hopefully, Claygon would be quick enough.

With his potion-enhanced vision, Alex scanned the white flour cloud, watching for any movement. The forceball’s crimson light swept around him, illuminating the silhouettes of posts, tools, supplies and shelving nearby. His ears listened for the sound of the creature either choking on dust, or trying to move stealthily. Everything was strangely silent. Alex wondered why it wouldn’t be gasping for breath with so much flour filling the air.

His own breaths were slow as he tried to eliminate as much of his own noise as possible, but he could do nothing about Claygon’s heavy footsteps. By thought, he told the golem to walk slow and quiet, but there was only so much silence that a massive construct of clay, magic and death could manage.

His eyes darted to the side.

Was that…?

No, just a pole.

He didn’t hear a single whisper from the creature, and wished Brutus was here to sniff it out. Then again, perhaps the creature used the dust screen as cover to escape and was long go—

Something shifted to his left.

A claw scraped against the floor.

Alex whirled, bringing up his Force Shield and ordering Claygon to strike. Claws streaked out of the dust, but the golem’s arm came up, blocking the monster’s attack.

Whoosh.

Claygon’s fist shot forward.

It met air.

The monster’s steps disappeared back into the granary.

His forceball shot after it, and he managed to catch the briefest flash of its silhouette before it ducked behind a shelf, seeming to vanish. Alex swore. The area it disappeared into was narrow. His mobility would be limited, and free movement was one of the key things that had kept him alive against the creatures. Claygon wouldn’t be able to get into such a confined spot… Unless he ripped everything apart, that is. But if that was what needed to happen, then that was what would happen.

He stepped back toward the middle of the granary, his eyes scanning through the dust.

Alex stiffened.

A claw’s silhouette loomed out of the shadows, raised up to—

‘Oh, for Uldar’s sake!’ he muttered, shaking himself.

It was a pitchfork. Not an upraised claw, just a pitchfork hanging tines-up from a hook on a post.

‘Focus,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t let yourself get spoo—’

Another scrape of claw.

He whirled just as the monster appeared behind them. This time, it darted below Claygon’s powerful arm and clawed at Alex’s leg. His rectangle parried the blow—bursting in the process—as Claygon’s return strike shot forward.

There was the dull thud of clay hitting flesh as a glancing punch clipped the creature’s back. The force sent the monster flying into the white dust.

Crash!

It smashed into something, then scrambled into the gloom. No sound had escaped its mouth.

He frowned. It had baited him using his own voice.

So, if it understood language well enough to manipulate its opponents, two could play that game.

“You say you’re going to hunt me down?” Alex called after it. He used the Mark to channel every moment he’d ever said something that had infuriated someone. It brought up memories of McHarris and even the battle-mage Alex spell-jousted against months ago. “Can’t even scratch me, can you? Some hunter you are.

“You know, I’m pretty sure it hurt like hell when my golem here pulped your friend like a rotten tomato. I can see why you’re mad, even though you did attack me first.”

No response.

“Well, I’m not going to let it go. That’s the thing about me, I’m kind of a revenge enthusiast. So I’m going to say the same thing to you that you said to me: I am going to hunt you down and I am going to have my golem break you in hal—”

Claygon’s fist swept out.

Another impact on flesh resounded in the air and Alex heard the monster hit the ground, then scamper into the gloom.

‘Good. Clipped it again.’ He hadn’t even ordered Claygon to do that; the golem simply struck the creature as soon as he’d detected its rush.

Alex scanned the air.

This was a fight he could win. He was wearing this thing down.

This was not working.

The first hunter rubbed its flesh where the statue had struck it. Both blows were glancing, but they had cracked bone and burst flesh. It desperately fought the instinct to cry out in pain. The full force of one of that statue’s strikes would likely smash through a hive-queen’s armour like it was the brittle shell of an egg.

The hunter was regretting that this opponent had not appeared later in its master’s active time. When the Ravener had reaped a mass of fear and gathered the energy to create its most powerful monsters.

No matter.

The opponent’s taunting words echoed through the air, and though it could not understand all that the quarry spoke, it well understood the mockery in its tone. It could not allow itself to be goaded by this.

Then a thought dawned. A plan that could bring the quarry down. The hunter crept through the building until it was behind the prey. A wooden column rose up in the centre of a wide shelf near the quarry’s left side, and the hunter stepped to the quarry’s right, placing the prey between itself and the column.

It tensed for a spring, then shifted its malleable voice box.

Its mouth opened and it used some of the precious breath it was holding to let out a pained whimper.

It spoke in the voice of the female warrior that rushed to the quarry’s aid.

“Theresa?” The quarry whirled, all the mockery gone from his voice. His expression twisted, realizing his mistake an instant too late.

The hunter catapulted forward, its claws spreading out. It ducked under the statue’s arm and swung both claws at its surprised enemy. The prey blocked one of its attacks with a magic shield and the other claw was deflected by shapes floating around it.

The spell burst.

The hunter shot past, rushing to the other side of the quarry and the statue. The air split behind it. That terrible fist was coming.

The hunter ducked low.

Whoosh.

Crunch!

Wood shattered as the statue’s blow split the post.

Crrrk.

Part of the structure began to fall as the beam shifted. The quarry cried out. Bags of powdered grain fell on him, knocking him from his feet. The statue moved forward, its upper arms raised to hold the part of the shelf that the beam supported, stopping the rest of it from falling on its master.

The hunter sprang forward again, biting at its quarry. Its teeth were stopped by the defensive magic around the enemy’s limb.

But it grabbed on to its prey.

The monster leapt away, dragging the quarry out of the statue’s reach before it could react. The prey struggled, but it was futile. It might have been strong, but the hunter was far stronger.

Elation rose up in the creature. Success would be the Ravener’s. Mere heartbeats separated it from the completion of its mission.

And it looked like it might even survive to report to its master.

Panic surged through Alex as he was dragged along the flour-covered ground.

One of Claygon’s lower hands reached futilely for him, a moment too late. If the golem moved, the structure would collapse, crushing him. No help there.

He only had heartbeats. Liquid dripped from the stinger-like teeth threatening to crush his force armour. He didn’t want to know what would happen to him if it injected him with the stuff in its mouth.

His mind whirled.

He was on his back, being pulled. He could try to kip up to his feet, but the monster’s grip on him was like iron. The flour dust and fear of explosion ruled out using Claygon’s fire magic.

He moved his forceball back to shake the creature’s grip, but it simply ignored the spell. It finally stopped dragging him away from the golem. Alex was far from Claygon. The monster raised its arms.

Claws flashed out in a frenzy.

Alex willed his shield and the remaining rectangle between himself and the raking claws, deflecting the blows. The creature hissed and scratched at the force constructs.

The armour was starting to crack.

Alex sucked in a deep breath through Orb of Air—

Wait.

The spell blocked out all contaminants in the air.

All of them.

As the monster clawed at the armour, Alex’s hand dug into his bag, gripping a familiar bottle. Pulling out his booby-trapped flight potion, he looked the monster right in the eye.

Then he smashed the bottle against the floor.

Whoosh.

The gaseous potion blasted through the air, enveloping both of them.

Chapter 83

A Successful Operation

The flight potion released in a cloud, mixing with the dust and spraying over Alex and his captor. The monster continued assaulting him, desperate to get around his shield with its claws.

Alex’s mind raced in confusion

Why wasn’t—

‘Breath!’ he thought. ‘It hadn’t cried out when Claygon hit it. It’s not coughing from the dust. The bloody thing is holding its breath!’

He shot the forceball behind his head and began spinning it around, whipping the dust and potion-cloud directly at its eyes. The monster snorted, shaking its head as the gaseous mixture flew into its face.

Choo!

A powerful sneeze erupted from the creature, immediately followed by a gasp as it sucked in a deep breath of air. A breath of air filled with potion.

Its eyes went wide, knowing exactly what the gas could do.

Whoosh!

Alex was rolled to the side as the monster shot away, striking a wall with a howl of pain.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The creature slammed into the granary floor, walls, ceiling and beams with horrifying force. Alex climbed to his feet—protected from the gas by his Orb of Air—and watched the beast crash through shelves loaded with flour sacks.

Crnch.

Wood splintered as the white powder was scattered all around him.

Scrrrp.

The monster’s screams rose to ear-piercing shrieks with each impact.

A bloody arm flew end over end past Alex’s head, torn from the monster by the flight magic pulling the limb one way, while the body was dragged another.

Crack!

The monster slammed into Claygon’s massive body and bounced off.

Alex swore, ducking as it flew over his head.

He kept his eye on it as it rebounded around the granary, then he connected with Claygon.

“Keep holding that shelf up, but if that thing comes near you again, hit it hard,” Alex said.

Claygon’s lower arms rose, ready to strike as the monster was flung around the building.

He didn’t have to wait long. It bounced off a wooden support beam and launched toward the golem.

Whoosh!

His massive limb snapped out.

Crunch!

Something shattered from the impact and hard objects rattled across the floor as the monster was blasted toward the front of the building. He looked down just in time to see a stinger-like tooth roll to a gentle stop by his foot.

Crack.

The creature’s body glanced off the doorway and sailed into the night.

Alex ran after it, instructing Claygon to stay where he was.

He got outside just as the creature raised its hand to protect itself from a tree that it slammed into torso-first. Only to drop to the ground, dragged along the grass, then shot into the air like a bird. It spun, whirled and looped repeatedly—trailing blood through the night—before it finally crashed to the ground as the potion’s magic faded.

It had travelled far from the granary, landing in a twitching heap.

Shockingly, it began to rise. The resilience the thing had was terrifying.

It began to drag itself farther away, putting distance between itself and Alex. It could barely crawl, leaving a trail of blood staining the grass from its many wounds and ragged stump. Alex listened for breathing with his potion-enhanced senses. Shallow breaths slowly wheezed from its chest.

It was almost done.

He took a step toward the monster as his mind turned to loved ones. He was worried and wanted to get back to them.

The monster shuddered and fell over.

Its breathing stopped.

Good, now he could get back to his sister and Theresa. Alex turned back toward the manor when something occurred to him. He remembered the xyrthak eggs and how valuable monster parts were. This was an opportunity. He’d have to get the creature’s body, but dragging the heavy monster corpse all the way back to the manor himself—since Claygon had his hands full—would be a problem. He didn’t want to leave the body unattended, but he needed to get back.

Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone.

Alex looked through the battlefield until he saw what he was looking for.

The Ravener’s hunter desperately crawled away from its quarry.

It bones were shattered throughout its body and its muscles were torn. Its breath rasped and was becoming shallow. Its vision swam and thoughts were cloudy.

If the hunter hadn’t been granted supernatural fortitude by the Ravener, it would have died several blows ago. If the statue’s strike to its jaw had landed solidly, its skull would be pulp.

As it was, it would not escape the battlefield alive.

There would be no return to its master.

There would not even be another chance to attack the quarry. It failed.

‘No!’ it thought. ‘I cannot fail. I cannot.’

A loud, wheezing breath escaped it and the hunter collapsed. Its chest rose and fell once. Twice. Then its breathing stopped.

On purpose.

Even as its body grew colder, it held on to a last bit of lifeforce and will. Its teeth were shattered, ruining its venomous bite. One of its claws was gone. But it had one claw left.

If it could feign death just long enough to lure the quarry close, then it would manage one final attack. A claw that would swipe across a precious blood vessel in the leg. This was its only chance. Listening carefully to the sound of the quarry, it waited, preparing for it to get within striking range.

Then the quarry spoke.

“Hey, Brutus! Brutus!” it called out in a surprisingly gentle voice, though the hunter had no idea what it meant.

Then the prey spoke a single word:

“Fetch.”

Fetch?

The hunter was unfamiliar with the word. What did it mean? Was it a magic word the mortal was usi—

What was that noise?

Like massive paws churning the earth.

The assassin continued to play dead, yet panic rose as the sound bounded closer. Something… unfamiliar rose up. Fear. Not fear of failing its purpose, but—for the first time in its young life—fear for its continued existence. It recognized the fear as what it saw in the creatures it had killed.

Now the proud hunter—one of the most elite of the Ravener’s monsters—was the same as them: prey.

Helpless, prey.

The hunter had become the hunted.

Fear drove it to turn at the last moment to try and fend off whatever was coming. The sweep of its claw—once swift, decisive and deadly—now seemed weak and feeble. It struck too early, well before the three-headed beast that rushed it was in range.

And now the last of its strength was expended.

The final thing it saw in the mortal world were three sets of canine jaws surging toward its neck.

Though it still had no clue what ‘fetch’ meant.

Alex panicked when the monster—which he’d thought was dead—struck out in an attack toward Brutus. He needn’t have worried. After the feeble swing of its arm, Brutus jumped onto the creature and thoroughly mauled it.

It stopped moving. Permanently, this time.

Alex made his way back to find his loved ones in the gardens. Brutus followed, bringing the monster’s carcass like it hardly weighed anything.

The battle was over.

At the front of the manor, the few monsters still alive were scattering in all directions, licking their wounds and crying out in fear. The patrizia had left some of his guards behind while he took a contingent—including Isolde and Khalik—and rushed toward the back of the manor.

Alex could no longer hear sounds of fighting coming from the back, but quickened his pace.

When he arrived, the monsters were either gone or dead. Guardsmen and servants rushed here and there, bringing bandages, poultices and potions.

Bodies with sheets covering them from head to toe lay motionless on the ground. People—guards and guests alike—lay groaning on blankets with their wounds being tended to.

One of the dryads moved among the wounded. She chanted to the spirits of her forest. Her hands glowed with a green light that also shone along the branches of her willow-like hair. Where she pressed her hands to the injured, wounds closed and healthy colour returned to their skin.

“Theresa!” Alex cried, looking among those being cared for. “Theresa!”

He’d trusted her to be safe while he was chasing the monster, but what if she’d only pretended to be okay? Maybe her wounds had been worse than they’d looked. Maybe her bleeding worsened while he was fighting the monster and—

Alex let out a yelp of pain as something collided with him from the side. Warm, strong arms wrapped around him.

“Agh! My monster wounds! You’re squeezing my monster wounds!”

He looked down to see Theresa—most of her wounds looked like they’d been healed by dryad-magic or bandaged—hugging him with her head pressed into his side.

“Oh, thank the Traveller you’re alright!” Theresa said, loosening her grip on him. But only a little.

“Hey, that’s my line.” He hugged her back tightly, grunting as she was again pressed against his wounds. “I kept imagining all kinds of horrible stuff. Like I’d get back and you’d be dead or something would have kidnapped you, or like you got hit on the head and lost your memory or—”

“Alex, just hold me. No doom and gloom. Monsters attacked. We won. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re okay. Let’s not get caught up on the what-ifs.”

His mind immediately conjured three or four more what-ifs, but he just acknowledged them and let them go. Instead, he tightened his grip on his best friend… and now his love.

He wasn’t planning on letting go any time soon.

Though he needed to check on Selina. And maybe he should get his wounds looked at too. And tell the patrizia about how Claygon was holding up a part of his granary.

A short woof drew his attention.

Brutus loomed beside Theresa and him, with the limp form of the monster in two mouths.

“Good boy,” he mouthed at the cerberus, who wagged his tail. Later, Alex would also need to look into what the hell kind of monster it was that tried to kill them.

Another thought occurred to him, making him smile.

Operation ‘fetch’ was a major success.

“Alex!” Selina cried as she rushed into her brother’s open arms.

Now that the last of the monsters had been wiped out, and the patrizia’s guards, hounds and dryad allies chased off or killed any stragglers, Giuseppe had declared the estate safe.

Everyone who’d been rushed into the manor was allowed to come out. His little sister had sprinted out of the crowd, searching for him. Alex was glad his hug was big enough for the two most important people in his life at the same time.

Thundar followed, shaking his head. Much of the earlier drunkenness had faded from his eyes. Alex supposed a pitched battle tended to sober one up. “That little imp actually punched me in the arm trying to get back out here. It hurt too. We might’ve won faster if you’d just turned her loose.”

Alex didn’t even reply, shifting so his bandages weren’t pressed against Selina.

“We won,” Khalik said. There was a note of victory in his voice, but his eyes were sad. “But at a cost. Some lost their lives tonight and a sweet memory is now sour.”

Thundar looked on grimly. “It could’ve been worse. A lot worse.”

“Evil beasts!” Alex heard a familiar voice.

Isolde was near her cousin, staring at the monsters as they were dragged from the garden. “Evil, evil beasts!”

Her hands balled into fists.

If looks could kill, those monsters would have been disintegrated by her glare. She seemed to be more upset than Giuseppe. The patrizia was still rightfully in full-blown leadership mode, busy directing servants and guards to serve his battered guests as much as possible.

He’d already commanded several of his sky-boats to the back garden, and they waited to ferry the tired and newly healed back to their homes when they were ready to leave. Servants went among those who’d recovered, offering hot wine and food to soothe the belly and nerves.

Yet Alex could see the tension in Giuseppe’s every move.

It reminded him of how Mr. and Mrs. Lu had been on the night the Roth Alehouse had burned.

Collected and decisive on the outside.

Distressed on the inside.

Alex was distressed about not knowing the origin of the attack.

He’d have to tell Baelin about what happened tonight. The chancellor would have access to Thameish bestiaries for research purposes. They might be able to tell them if the three monsters were from Thameland; if they were, that would confirm Alex’s worst fears. He was really hoping the reason the beasts attacked him had nothing to do with Thameland. Maybe the damage his potions had done to their forces could be the reason they’d targeted him.

As the night wore on, most on the estate learned from the dryads that a creature like the one Brutus had fetched attacked them in their forest. Most concluded it was some local creature of sharp intellect. Perhaps something from the city—there had been times in the past when a wizard’s experiment had escaped to wreak havoc in the wider world. Or even something that emerged from deep in the Barrens, where the horrors grew more numerous and deadly.

Still, Alex wondered.

His attention was drawn by the sound of Isolde approaching. The young woman looked troubled, but she smiled weakly as she came to her friends and spoke gently. “How do you all fare?”

“Good, all things considered,” Khalik shrugged. “It is a shame, though.” He looked up at the glowing illusionary fish still swimming above the garden. “This was no night for blood.”

“It was not,” Isolde said with a deep mournful note in her voice. She glared at the monster dangling in Brutus’ mouth. “Vile, awful creature.”

“Yeah, about that.” Thundar bent down, looking at the wreckage that was the monster’s corpse. “What is it?”

“I have no idea,” Alex said. “But I plan on taking it to Baelin and I’m planning on finding out. I’m sure a lot of people will be very interested in knowing where it came from.”

Chapter 84

Bouncing Back

If there was anything that would never cease to surprise Alex about people, it was how quickly many bounced back from just about anything.

In the days following the attack on the patrizia’s estate, Giuseppe had seen to the few wounded who’d stayed on at the manor, put them back on their feet, then escorted them to their homes. He’d begun a single-minded hunt for any Barrens-monsters that escaped after the attack on his home and guests. He and a group eager to avenge themselves and restore their aristocratic honour—scoured the countryside for gorgers, muupkaras, bonedrinkers, and any of the spike-toothed monsters Alex Roth, his golem, and the cerberus had slain.

The dryads also engaged in a punishing campaign to root out and destroy any monsters that fled into their forest. From what Alex had heard, they’d completed that task very well.

The patrizia’s force tracked the horde’s footprints back to the wall, and discovered a tunnel extending deep beneath it and into the Barrens. Quite the stir had arisen from that. In the past, on the rare occasion, the odd monster slipped over the wall from the Barrens. But it was very rare for a pack to do so, and even rarer for them to create mass havoc. And completely unheard of for different types of monsters to join together in a horde, escape the Barrens of Kravernus, and launch a coordinated attack on an estate.

Discovering the tunnel and understanding the monsters had dug it was a shock to Giuseppe and his neighbours. He informed the city’s officials, who launched an investigation into the attack, bringing in earth wizards to fill the tunnel. Investigators and researchers from the university combed the countryside, searching for the unidentified creatures that united the monstrous horde. Yet, no matter how far they searched into the Barrens, and no matter how much of their bestiaries, monsternomicons, and natural field guides they combed, they could find no trace of anything that could identify the creatures.

So the officials focused on the information they had.

The city noted the creatures’ innate intelligence and cunning, and commissioned an expansion of the wall’s guard. Groups of rangers were to patrol the areas beyond the wall. Wizards specializing in earth magic were recruited to regularly sense out the ground beneath the walls in case the monsters began tunnelling beneath them in secret again.

Once all was said and done, people—even those that attended the patrizia’s ill-fated party—put the events of that evening behind them. To Alex’s amazement, the patrizia had already begun to plan another celebration to be held at summer’s end.

“Most have returned to life as normal,” Isolde said over lunch one day. “It is not the first time that Generasi’s people have endured violence at the hands and claws of monster-kind. How many times has a creature escaped the confines of a wizard’s laboratory? How many monsters have escaped the Barrens over time, or how many times have monsters in the countryside attacked folk there? If these events broke the people of Generasi, they would have left long ago.”

“That… makes a lot of sense, I guess,” Alex had said.

He’d moved on too, in some ways.

Life always continued on. If people didn’t move with it, they’d simply be left behind.

In the weeks following the monster attack, Alex and his friends finished midterms and continued with classes as normal. The paper that Khalik helped Thundar with had earned the minotaur a mark he’d jumped for joy over. Alex had done well on his exams, and had even managed to raise his grade in force magic a bit. Isolde naturally continued crushing every class.

Time had flown by at the speed of lightning.

Even Selina recovered quickly after the attack.

“I don’t like bad monsters,” she had said. “They always come and ruin everything. I just want them to go away.”

She was looking forward to starting her lessons in wizardry in the next school year. His sister had definitely gotten tougher, in the same way a lot of people in Generasi were resilient. He supposed the folks of Generasi and Thameland had that in common. Both lands had monsters, and their peoples were not about to let their lives be constantly ruled by fear.

Still, he’d continued to wonder about the creatures.

His own investigation had turned up some new information, but few answers.

“I would remain at ease,” Baelin said. “A Proper Wizard must be prepared to be made the target of monsters and enemies. On the battlefield, warriors wield steel for armour and weapons, and power themselves with their own strength and experience. But a wizard wields the elements as their weapons. They armour themselves in the cosmos, and power themselves with mana, which many consider the lifeblood of creation.”

He chuckled. “Do not take it so personally, Alex. Any intelligent combatant knows that a wizard on the battlefield must be removed almost before any other. It is just strategy.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Alex said. “But it said it wanted to hunt me down after. Me.”

Baelin raised an eyebrow. “And had you not just finished killing its companions?”

“…Yeah, okay,” Alex said. Though he couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more… personal, in the way the monsters targeted him. Had he really only imagined that?

“I have checked every single bestiary from Thameland that lies in our library,” Baelin continued. “There is no mention of such a creature. Now, some of our volumes are quite old—and your kingdom is somewhat insular with lore about this Ravener and its armies—but I do believe most of what your ancient enemy is capable of has been catalogued throughout its many cycles.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Alex agreed, turning his attention back to the mana spectrometer and the piece of the creature’s tough hide being analysed.

Elsewhere in the lab, an entire shelf was filled with sealed jars containing parts of the creatures.

They were in Baelin’s lab for the afternoon, as the chancellor graciously set aside time for dissection and analysis of the monsters’ remains. In the sunny laboratory, the sound of another analytic device came from close by.

Isolde stood tall and proud in her safety equipment, rapidly jotting down notes as she analysed another part of the monsters’ remains. She, at last, had also become one of Baelin’s advisees and was excitedly taking part in their research. The young woman was eager to learn more about the monsters that wreaked havoc on her family member’s home.

She was performing analysis on the monster’s poison. “I still cannot believe the speed and ease at which this equipment performs.”

“I only seek the best.” Baelin stood a little taller. “Which is why—permit the flattery—I have taken you on as an advisee, Isolde.”

“Er, thank you, Baelin,” she said.

The chancellor chuckled quietly.

Alex grunted as the mana spectrometer finished, then he wrote down the results. The readout revealed… not much.

“It looks like there’s a few compounds that might be useful in transformation magic.” His pen scrawled across the page. “Potions that could harden flesh and toughen skin, things like that.”

He sighed, glancing at the shelf with the monsters’ remains. It was everything they’d analysed so far; the monster was alchemically useful, but not revolutionary. The remains exhibited similar properties to substances already well known and widely used in the study of alchemy. Of all the parts they’d studied, the most interesting bits were the monsters’ malleable voice boxes, and a bell-shaped organ they weren’t quite sure about. It seemed like it sent out some sort of sound in all directions that sensed mana and perhaps other things, but they couldn’t be sure without a live specimen. Unfortunately, or fortunately—depending on how Alex was feeling on a given day—they didn’t have one.

Even those unique parts of the monster already had equivalents well known in alchemical guides. Alex glanced at Claygon. There weren’t any revolutionary ‘dawn of new wizardry’ discoveries hidden within them.

“I was hoping there’d be something more to these things.” He sighed. “It’s kind of a let-down after the dungeon core’s remains.” He looked at Isolde. “Anything neat on your end?”

“It’s the same answer as the last ten times you asked, Alex: not particularly,” she said. “The poison is deadly, sure, and contains properties that might make it a good base for an antitoxin, an anticoagulant and, well… a poison, but there is not much else to it.”

“Ah.” He glanced at the jar of poison with some annoyance. When he’d tried even touching the stuff, the Mark had gone absolutely berserk as he’d feared it would. It looked like poison was pretty much always considered to be harmful.

Still, that revealed new information about the Mark: wine, liquor and other spirits could cause harm when someone drank them to excess, but he was able to drink and handle them just fine. One of the keys definitely seemed to be that he couldn’t use things intended as weapons or intended to harm others.

Even high-proof alcohol—which could easily poison someone—didn’t set the Mark off as long as he was using it for cleaning purposes. Perhaps he could see where that line of thought would take him for brewing potions in the future.

It was a tricky line between the Mark being set off by any attempt at direct harm and simply being quiet when indirect or accidental harm was done by the bearer of the Fool. Alex glumly wondered if the other Heroes had to deal with such issues. Any issues.

“Something the matter?” Baelin asked. “You look as though you have been dining on nothing but lemons for a week.”

“That bad?” Alex said. “I just thought… you know… we’d find out something useful from these monsters’ remains.”

Baelin raised an eyebrow. “Have we not? Plenty of its remains are alchemically useful. They can be sold or provide you with a bank of ingredients. I would call that ‘something useful.’”

“Yeah, but…” Alex gestured to Claygon. “Look at the dungeon core and what it could do.”

“Why, yes, it was most impressive. Your stories of how it performed in live combat were fascinating, and its performance during the field test was incredibly promising.”

“But…” Alex roughly indicated the jars of the monsters’ remains. “This stuff doesn’t even come close.”

Baelin looked at him curiously for a moment and realization crossed his features. “Ah. I see. I should have anticipated this. Alex, do you know the results of most experiments that occur in alchemy? Isolde, would you know?”

“Failure,” Isolde said as she dropped the poison onto a portion of Kamookak’s Moss. “Most experiments on unknown substances reveal no alchemical value or value to wizardry in general. Of every discovery of a new monster, beast or plant, approximately one in every twenty generates a new body of knowledge or new material that advances alchemy. Most either have no use or have uses that are redundant with substances already discovered.”

“Really?” Alex said, surprised.

“Oh yes,” Baelin nodded toward Isolde. “Very good, Isolde, I can see that you have experience with others that have researched the arts of wizardry.”

“Like… one in twenty?” Alex asked. “That’s all?”

“Actually, that is a generous estimation. I would get used to that disappointment if I were you, Alex,” Baelin warned with a somewhat amused note in his voice. “Wizardry—like me—is a very old art. Much about the world has been discovered. In its early days, one discovered something new about magic or alchemy just about every time the sun rose. But now, much has been catalogued and understood.

“Usually, one only gains a wave of new discoveries when alchemy has advanced enough to produce more sensitive analytical equipment. Even then, re-examining old substances may generate new knowledge, or it may simply confirm what we already know. A Proper Wizard understands that the path to true understanding is not a sprint or a brisk walk in the countryside. It is a marathon that is forever run. What is not revealed today might be revealed tomorrow. Or it might be revealed in a thousand years.”

His eyes twinkled. “Pace yourself. You were extremely fortunate with your dungeon core discovery. Do not mistake that for routine or you shall never be happy again.”

“Right, got it. Be realistic,” Alex said.

He had enough to be thankful for anyway.

While things returned to normal after the attack, there was one thing that was markedly different.

“Hm? Did you discover something about the substance after all?” Baelin asked.

“Pardon?”

“You suddenly seemed to be absolutely radiating satisfaction.”

“Oh, er, no it was just—uh, nothing. I got distracted for a moment,” he said quickly, glad that he was wearing his safety mask, which hid both his blush and the stupid grin that had been on his face.

Alex had seen new couples that seemed to be perpetually in a world of flowers and butterflies. All smiles all the time, with that tell-tale dreamy look in their eyes.

He was almost ashamed to say he and Theresa were no exception. The very thought that they were together was enough to send a surge of joy shooting through his core. Which inevitably sent his face into a dreamy smile. He wasn’t the only one; he’d caught Theresa with the exact same smile a bunch of times.

Again, he marvelled at how people bounced back from things.

The two of them had gotten together when it looked like they might be about to die. It hadn’t been the deep, romantic confession he’d hoped to make, or even the clumsily stuttered confession he feared he’d end up making. They’d opened up their feelings to each other, then immediately started fighting for their lives against a horde of monsters. Instead of that worsening the memory—or at least his memory of how they’d gotten together—if anything, it made the memory even more special.

‘You know what?’ Alex thought. ‘I dunno why I’m so surprised. I’ve been bouncing back from shit my whole life.’

His parents’ deaths.

Receiving the Mark.

Being attacked by monsters.

Every time something terrible happened, he just tried to move on or squeeze some good out of it. A lot of people did just that.

He looked over at the monsters’ remains, trying to quiet the feeling the creatures had specifically come for him.

It was the only thing he was worried about lately.

Baelin followed his gaze. “Not to worry, Alex. The librarians are still searching through bestiaries and books containing monster sightings from around the world, at the city’s request. If there is even an obscure mention of such a creature that I either do not recall or have not read about, then it shall come up soon enough.”

He glanced at the time-keeping device on the wall. “Ah, speaking of books, we should finish up. Final exams are only a few weeks away and I do not wish to cut into your study time.”

Alright, maybe he had a few things to worry about.

Alex shook his head.

The end of his first year at Generasi was rapidly nearing.

Chapter 85

Reaffirmation

“You know what?” Thundar grunted. “This is getting easier.”

He flipped through his notebooks—filled with notes and reminders in his own handwriting and that of his entire cabal—and grinned.

“A lot of this stuff gets a lot quicker to get into the ol’ skull when I’ve got you super geniuses helping me out.” He chuckled.

Isolde sighed, giving him a look from across Khalik’s table. A veritable ocean of paper, notebooks and pens filled her side. “Thundar, of course it’s easy for you to understand once you apply yourself. You act the role of the brute, but you successfully gained admittance to the greatest institution of wizardry in the world. You have a magnificent mind.”

“O-oh thanks,” Thundar coughed, clearly surprised. “I uh… yeah. Thanks, Isolde.”

“A magnificent mind that spends the majority of its energy thinking about lechery, imbibing and smashing things.”

“Hey!” he said, half-rising from his chair. “You’re right. I may not like it… but you’re right. Actually, forget the ‘don’t like it’ part. I’m having fun before I get old and gotta lock myself in a tower to think about how stars are made or some shit. I ain’t gonna apologize for that.”

“When one plays hard, one works better,” Khalik agreed while concentrating on a spell. Hovering between his palms was a stone that changed its composition in waves. One moment its form would ripple to the right and become dull grey. Then it would ripple to the left and turn a bright white. Then red.

He was concentrating on controlling the speed and direction of the transformation.

“Ugh, well, I haven’t gotten time to play in a while,” Thundar continued. “Not since those critters ruined your cousin’s party.” He gave Alex a sly look. “I guess you’ve been playing a lot lately, haven’t you?”

“Hm?” Alex was deep in thought, concentrating on the force construct he was shifting with mana manipulation. One of the final aspects of force magic that Ram taught his class was one of the ultimate realizations of direction and redirection.

Generalized Force Construct was a weak spell, so Alex was surprised that Ram would have chosen it to be the very first second-tier spell he taught them at the end of their first year. He would have expected something more complex. It was slower than forceball. Weaker than Wizard’s Hand. Less practical than Force Shield.

Though it made up for those weaknesses with versatility.

Its spell array was constructed in such a way, a wizard could shift the shape of the force construct conjured by the spell, even after they’d finished casting it. This was done by using their knowledge of how force magic was directed, combined with their skill in mana manipulation—though the former was more important than the latter—to shift its shape.

Generalized Force Construct was small with the strength of a water bubble. Despite that, Alex had found an endless fascination with concentrating and shifting it from form to form. Adjusting the direction of the way the force magic flowed turned it into a sphere. Another shift changed it to something that looked like a five-pointed star. Then a tiny pyramid. A cylinder.

It was fascinating.

“Were you talking to me, Thundar?” he asked.

“Yeah, I was saying you’re having fun lately. You and Miss Theresa-the-monster-slayer.” He grinned, his eyes brimming with malice. “Eh? Eh? A lot of ‘fun.’ No doubt.”

Alex gave him a serene look, as though he were some wise sage. “It is true, we are having ‘fun,’ for what is life but an endless series of discoveries and adventu—”

“Your Baelin impression sucks.”

“And you’re gonna have to try harder if you’re going to embarrass me.” He jerked a finger toward his shoulder. “I literally have a glowing jester’s face stamped on my shoulder, and I’m dating a woman who is basically a war goddess. I’m not a blushing twelve-year-old, this is an absolute win, and I wanna shout to everyone from every rooftop how awesome my life is.”

“Pfeh,” Thundar grunted. “Worth a shot. You brainy types tend to get flustered about that kind of thing.”

“You mean, like you?”

“I—” The minotaur clammed up, and Alex wondered if he was remembering how he acted when a certain foxy lady had visited him in the infirmary. “One day, I’m gonna toss you off a cliff.”

“Understandable.”

Thundar shook his head, then looked to Khalik. “Right, speaking of falling off cliffs. Where’ve you been on the weekends lately, man? You’ve been a ghost the last couple.”

A great smile grew behind Khalik’s beard. “I’ve been visiting the dryad forest recently.”

The room fell silent.

Thundar slammed his book.

Alex threw away his force spell.

Even Isolde was looking up with interest. “And what, do tell, takes you to the dryads’ wood?”

“Well.” Khalik’s grin was absolutely kingly. “A certain dryad requested that the patrizia send a message to me requesting that I drop by should I be in the area. I somehow found myself in the area.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Sinope? The dryad you danced with?”

“The very same.” Khalik’s smile grew wider. “Life… grows interesting for many of us.”

Isolde snorted. “Truly. Alex comes to university and begins a relationship with his oldest friend. Khalik begins to see a mystical dryad from the forest. Who do I meet? Bloody Derek.” She scowled, though it faded. “Ah well, at least I have my cabal to see me through my remaining time here. The best anyone could ask for.”

The room went quiet again.

“Wait…” Alex said. “What about waiting until the end of the year and deciding if it was a good fit?”

Isolde sat back. “Ah, yes… we had agreed to something like that, hadn’t we? I had forgotten. Well, I’ll say what I think now: I would have needed to repeatedly hit my head to want to do anything other than continue our association. Opportunities have opened thanks to this partnership. We have aided each other scholastically and saved each other in battle. I think we have proven beyond doubt that we would do well to continue our association.”

“Yeeeesss!” Thundar leapt up. “And with me as your fearless leader—”

“We will be immediately ruined,” Isolde said.

“Yes,” Khalik agreed.

Alex nodded vigorously.

“And this is how you treat someone recovering from mana vampire wounds?” Thundar said mournfully.

“You recovered weeks ago,” Isolde pointed out.

“Details, details.” Thundar chuckled, then grew more serious. “Alright, enough joking around. I’m… real happy we’re sticking with each other. We’re gonna be great together, I just know it. You’re my cabal. And my friends. And… my last two battles by your sides haven’t exactly been my best moments. One day, though, I’ll prove I belong with all of you.”

“You already have,” Khalik said, clapping Thundar on his arm. “Many, many times, my friend.”

“Well, I’ll do it again. Thundar, Son of Gulbiff doesn’t get sideswiped twice and then lies down thinking ‘yeah, this is alright.’ Next time, I’m gonna stand out hard, mark my words.”

Alex smiled warmly. “You already do, man. And the rest of us too. In a few months, you’re just about as close to me as friends from back home that I’ve known for years. I’m thankful as hell that I met all of you.”

A wave went through the room: a quiet warmth. Isolde blushed and Khalik cleared his throat. “I as well have found fine companions in all of you…” He looked at Alex, then sat up straighter. “…Which is why I should tell you something, Isolde and Thundar.”

Alex sat back as Khalik confessed his royal lineage to his cabal members. At last, the final secret—that Alex knew of, at least—was laid bare between them.

Isolde took the news with shock, and quickly asked what proper terms of address were required in Khalik’s homeland of Tekezash, despite the prince waving off all attempts at formality.

Thundar jokingly asked to borrow five hundred gold coins, but his humour vanished when Khalik simply smiled and said, “Is that all? I had thought you were bolder.”

With the reaffirmation of their cabal and the last secret revealed, Alex felt something close. Almost like a key sliding into a lock.

Their bond was complete.

Life was good.

Alex took on finals with the same fervour he always did around test time.

…Well, almost.

There was a nervousness that followed him through most exam periods in the past, despite the fact that he worked hard to try and ace them. There had always seemed to be a lot at stake on every exam he’d ever taken.

When he was younger, he used to be nervous because of how much emphasis his parents put on him getting good marks. When he began to realize that he wanted to attend the University of Generasi, he worked hard to make sure that all of his teachers would be good references for him with the wandering recruiters from Generasi.

When he’d gotten to Generasi and started first year, there was the need to do as well as he could to gain the respect and trust of both Professor Val’Rok and Professor Jules. Without their help, he would’ve never gotten the job at Shale’s, or access to the lab where he’d performed the analysis on the dungeon core’s remains.

In the last few months, he’d built a golem, helped make an exciting discovery that could change wizardry, and had nearly been killed twice. Suddenly, exams—rather than being a future-defining test of his skills—seemed almost like a relaxing return to a low-stakes routine.

In the end, that was the way he’d walked into them: with enthusiasm and preparation, but also with a feeling of relief.

Luckily, there were no surprise horrors in any of his exams.

Magic Lore II’s exam was made up of a series of essay questions that were almost pure memorization. There were some questions that required the application of magical history and general magical theory, but Alex had enough background to get through those questions easily enough.

He didn’t even need to use the Mark for questions that involved pure memorization.

Val’Rok’s was a little trickier.

He and Isolde had a bit of an ongoing rivalry going into the mana manipulation final, though it was a strange, contradictory one. Rather than cutting each other off and hoarding their knowledge, they’d pushed each other throughout the entire time they were studying to bring out the highest potential in one another.

Isolde likened it to a knight ‘tossing a proper weapon to their enemy.’ To Alex, he was pretty sure that if he were a knight and some enemy was trying to kill him, he’d make sure they were as unarmed as possible. And tied up. Maybe asleep.

But in the case of their exams, bringing out the absolute best in each other when facing down the test questions was like defeating the enemy together.

Val’Rok’s written and practical tests were definitely diabolical. Though to a pair as hard-working and talented as he and Isolde, they weren’t diabolical enough to beat them.

Jules actually had Alex write two exams.

The first was the regular class exam for the Alchemy of Potions II, which he could have aced with his eyes closed. From the expression on the faces of other students leaving the room, though, it didn’t seem like it was easy for most. The second exam was made up specifically for him to test the knowledge he’d gained during the labs supervised by Amir.

If he’d been inclined toward paranoia, he might’ve believed Jules was trying to get revenge on him for not bringing her the dungeon core substance first. The exam had been brutal, fair, but brutal. He couldn’t say one way or another if she’d made it that tough on purpose. He told himself he was imagining a revenge plot.

He must have been.

Even Ram’s exam wasn’t a disaster. Interestingly enough, the higher concepts about the redirection of force and the application of it—as opposed to simply trying to learn as many spells as possible—far more suited Alex and the Mark than the ‘easier’ first semester. He still lost marks in the speed department, but more than made up for that by demonstrating how he applied what he’d learned during the Cleansing Movements to force magic.

He’d actually felt a lot better walking out of that exam than he had any of the others he’d ever done for force magic.

That only left Baelin’s exam, which was the only one making him more than a little nervous. The written exam would be something he was more than ready for, but—knowing Baelin—the practical final would be far more…

…Well, far more likely for Baelin to throw them at the biggest, nastiest monster he thought they could handle and tell them to have at it. Yet, as Alex entered the classroom for the final practical lesson of the year, he was caught off-guard by what the chancellor announced.

“We will not be holding our practical final exam until slightly after the semester is over. I have located what I wish for you to combat, but the practical final will only be held two weeks after the end of all other exams.” He looked over the class with pride. “This fight will test all of your mettle. Your resources. Your planning. And your organization. It will be a dangerous opponent, and one you would do well to prepare for after you no longer have to focus on other exams. Should you overcome it, then you will be ready for an entirely different class of opponent. You will be broken up into groups of four students and their entourages, and each group will face—”

He waved his hand, conjuring an illusion.

A writhing creature appeared in the air.

“A Dune Worm.”

Chapter 86

A Journey From Tree to Tree

“Adune worm is a very dangerous opponent for the unprepared; or anyone really,” Baelin said. “Partly because of its size. It grows to the size of a whale. Not the greatest of whale-kind, but certainly large enough.”

He waved his hand, and an illusion of a map appeared.

“Their territory lies deeper in the Barrens, and—thankfully—they cannot survive close to the edges. These creatures require a great deal of ambient mana to sustain them. Put another way, to prevent their entire system of organs from collapsing onto each other, which means they must dwell deep within the Barrens where mana is thickest. This also means—that while they are viciously gifted burrowers and can spew magma—”

“Did he just bloody say ‘spew magma?’” Alex whispered.

“Yeeeep,” Thundar grunted.

“Uhuh,” Theresa murmured, staring up at the writhing illusion with a look of dull shock.

“—they cannot use those abilities to travel to the edge of the Barrens and dive beneath the wall. Still, they are very territorial and dangerous to any who enter their domain on foot, and even those that can fly, if they are low enough in altitude. You faced something that came at you from above in the xyrthak, now you shall face something that will come at you from below. As an opponent, the dune worm is a formidable one that will use magic against you as adeptly as you shall use magic against it.”

Rhea raised her hand. “Baelin, are you saying that big worm’s a wizard?”

“Oh my, no.” Baelin shook his head. “They may have the sapience and cruelty for wizardry, but they are not gifted with vast intellect. They also have no need for spells. They can wield earth magic with the ease that you or I might move one of our own hands.”

His look turned stern. “Which is why it will be the perfect next step in an opponent for all of you. Do you know what the most common enemy a wizard faces in their lifetime is?”

“Assassins?” Nua-Oge guessed.

“Mana vampires,” Thundar grunted.

“Dragons?” Rhea added.

“Peasants with torches and pitchforks,” Malcolm said with a note of cynicism in his voice.

Baelin chuckled. “At one time—during some inquisitorial periods in the history of certain realms—you would have been one hundred percent correct, Malcolm. But no, the answer to that question is the same as it has always been: other wizards. And so, it will be good for you to cut your teeth on a magic-wielding adversary. The dune worm will be a good introduction. Powerful physically and magically, but unable to match your versatility.”

“Did he imply this ‘doom worm’ will be a starting place for us?” Khalik whispered.

“Dune worm,” Isolde corrected him idly. She was pale.

“I know what I said.”

“…Fair enough.”

Shiani raised her hand. “Baelin, do you really think we can handle such a creature in only small groups of four?”

“Quite frankly? Yes and no. In both physical strength and magical capability, it is your better. You will not be able to trump it in a show of brute force. Collectively? Absolutely. You could crush it like you did the xyrthak. But you will not always have the benefit of a small army of wizards at your side as you face the dangers of the world.”

He looked up toward the ceiling.

Alex felt a surge of teleportation magic.

Above Baelin, the air rippled until the illusion of a starry sky filled the upper part of the room.

‘No, wait,’ he thought. ‘I felt teleportation magic… he’s actually opened a point between here and wherever that sky is.’

He gulped, trying to swallow his nervousness. Deep down, though, a part of him was excited at the idea of such a vast gulf of distance being crossed with hardly a thought. Now that he’d learned Call Through Ice, it gave him a taste of teleportation magic, and he was definitely planning to register for a course on the subject next year.

“A Proper Wizard is indeed a mighty, terrifying being when at the height of their power,” Baelin said, his voice taking on an ancient and terrible quality. “But only a fool looks up at a stone ceiling and thinks there is nothing above them. No matter how powerful you grow, there will be many times when you will face an enemy far greater than yourself. So, I am introducing you to what that might look like now, so that you have a better footing when the time comes for you to grapple demon lords.”

Baelin looked at them as grim silence filled the room. “Or indeed be ready for other opportunities that might soon arise. For now, I advise you to focus on your other finals. Then try to relax between the end of those exams and our practical in the Barrens. After all, you are finishing your first year at the University of Generasi. That is cause to celebrate.”

Alex and Theresa glanced at each other, exchanging quick smiles.

That was indeed cause to celebrate.

It was days after Baelin’s in-class announcement, and a few days after Alex’s other exams, including the written one for the Art of the Wizard in Combat II. Baelin’s exam covered all that they’d learned from the beginning of the year.

There were questions about everything from tactics, to monsters, to the allocation of resources, to terrain, and essay questions on possible combat scenarios. It was as comprehensive as one might expect an exam from Baelin would be, and Alex had loved it. Writing the exam with his cabal members meant that, afterward, they could all go to the Brass Grapes to celebrate, unwind, and compare their answers.

For the most part, their responses matched one another’s, so Alex figured there’d be high marks all-around. They decided to take Baelin’s advice and forget about his upcoming practical exam, marks, and everything else, and simply celebrate the soon-to-be close of their first year. For a little bit, at least. They toasted anything they could think of, ordered trays of finger foods and laughed the time away. It turned out to be a great evening.

The next day, Alex had something else to look forward to.

On the green, well-maintained grounds of Generasi, five figures made their way toward a hill on campus. It was a high one with a gazebo that wrapped around an over-sized apple tree and overlooked the sea.

Brutus was running ahead of the group, barking excitedly under the late spring sun. Selina followed, trying to race the cerberus up the hill.

Behind them came Alex and Theresa. Each held a picnic basket in one hand and each other’s hand in the other. Alex wore that same stupid smile on his face that he got whenever Theresa’s warm, sword-calloused hand was in his. He glanced over and saw that her face bore a very similar expression.

Bringing up the rear was the mighty Claygon, his footsteps pressing into the earth. More and more, Alex was starting to think of his golem as a ‘he.’ Claygon’s head swivelled this way and that, tracking distant figures with the fire-gem set in his forehead.

Together, the couple crested the hill then rolled out a huge blanket to spread out on. Alex set out plates, cutlery and cups from one of the picnic baskets, and laid out his spread of fine coney pies. The pies were still steaming from when they’d come out of the oven earlier, and he’d used his Lesser Heat spell to keep them warm. Being a wizard definitely had its benefits.

Claygon stood beside the tree, a titanic guardian that continued to keep watch while they enjoyed the afternoon.

“This is so good,” Selina said as she greedily gulped down a meat pie.

“Of course it is,” Alex said, puffing out his chest. “I made it, after all.”

She nodded. “I like eating your food.”

“Me too,” Theresa said. “I could eat it for years, and years and years to come.”

She looked at him meaningfully, and he had to turn away from Selina in case she caught that foolish smile of his. His sister would never let him hear the end of it. The little goblin had already started making fun of him and Theresa for being ‘gross and mushy.’

To that, all he’d said was: “You’ll get it when you’re older.”

She’d replied: “Grownups always say that. You guys are still gross and mushy!”

When they finished lunch, they’d played with Brutus for a long while, rubbing his belly, playing fetch, and just romping around together.

Finally, when the cerberus was tired out—and Selina was too—they returned to the blanket and shade of the apple tree. The big canine was soon napping, and the young girl—though she fought sleep like a champion—was soon snoring against the dog.

Theresa sighed wistfully.

She and Alex were in a sleepy embrace, with Alex sitting against the trunk and the huntress sitting in his lap. She had taken her boots off and was lightly kicking her legs up and down through the grass in front of her.

“Why such a big sigh?” Alex asked her gently.

“Did I ever tell you I was a little jealous of you?” she asked.

He snorted. “Nooo, what’s this? Was it my good looks? My charm and debonair-ness? My big muscles?”

“Oh, by Uldar, don’t make me regret going out with you.” She chuckled. “And I do appreciate those things… Even if the charm is kind of imaginary, and I’m not even sure what ‘debonair’ means. I really appreciate the muscles, though.”

She gave his large bicep an appreciative squeeze. “Like really appreciate them. No, I’m jealous because you’ve got a cute little sister while I have older brothers. I always wanted a cute little sister.”

“Theresa, in the Lu family, you’re the cute little sister. You just grew up and became a death machine.”

“Hmph, and you don’t like me being a death machine?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s one of the best parts. One of the many, many best parts.”

“Jeez.” Theresa snuggled against him. “Shishi was making fun of me for losing my edge. ‘Ooooh, what happened to the scary-face, Theresa? You look like a puppy all the time.’ Glad to hear she’s wrong.”

“Well, maybe you’re just a very dangerous puppy. Like Brutus. And before you say that ‘complimenting a girl by calling her a cerberus’ isn’t great, I know you’d like it.”

She sighed. “Well, maybe I just have issues like—What? What?”

Alex burst out laughing halfway through her sentence.

As soon as she’d said she might have issues, his mind had immediately gone back to all the times he’d thought that about himself, and he couldn’t hold back his laughter.

He only stopped when Theresa lightly punched him in the arm a few times. She glared at him, then a mischievous light entered her eyes. “Hey, Alex, do you remember the time you said I had terrible taste?”

She grinned at him.

“Eh? When was this?” he asked.

“When you were being all mysterious and analysing the dungeon core, you talked about calling yourself ‘robbing fool.’ I said it was a terrible name and you said I have terrible taste.”

“Oh yeah, right. Well, I was right back then, that name was great and you do have terrible taste.”

Her eyes twinkled and her grin widened. “Do I really have terrible taste? Do I really?” she giggled. “Do I really have terrible taste, Alex?”

She nudged him in the belly, fighting back an absolute tidal wave of giggles.

“Yeah, you do have terrible—” His eyes widened as he finally got it. “Oh, by the Traveller!”

Theresa clamped her hand over her mouth to stop from laughing so loud, she’d wake up Brutus and Selina.

Alex, meanwhile, sat with his jaw hanging open.

“How… how did I walk into that? Oh my god, Uldar was right. I am a fool.”

Alex started to laugh as Theresa shook from laughter against him.

“Ahhh, I’m so glad I came with you to this place.” She turned her head, accidentally batting his face with her ponytail, and kissed him. “Smartest decision I’ve ever made.”

“Give it a few months,” he said, giving her a kiss back. “You’ll curse the day you followed me from Alric, and be asking yourself ‘why in the name of Uldar didn’t I just go with my parents?’”

Her smile faded slightly as her laughter did too.

His died as well. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed, scrambling out of his lap, much to his disappointment. Theresa dug into one of her bags and took out a letter. “This came yesterday evening.”

Alex stared at it a moment. “Is it from your parents?”

“Yes. They’re coming to visit next month.”

He started to grin. “That’s great. Why are you looking like you don’t think it’s such great news?”

She shook her head. “I’m excited, but how do… by the Traveller, how do I even begin to explain any of this? They don’t know anything about magic and monsters and danger and… us being together. So much has happened. I think when they were sending us off, they probably thought it was just some big school where, I dunno, people rode brooms, I guess. We left Thameland to escape danger and monsters, and here we are up to our necks in danger and monsters.”

He shrugged. “It is a lot to explain, isn’t it? But I’ll be there to explain it with you. I’ll be right there.”

Theresa’s smile lit up her face and she scooted back into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. “And that’s why I love you, Alex.”

“I love you too.” He kissed her cheek and then leaned back against the tree. Beginning to doze, and in his sleepiness, he almost thought the tree was the same one they’d made camp under when they were fleeing Alric.

So much had changed since then.

Some pleasant.

Some dangerous.

‘Ah, well.’ He glanced over at Claygon. ‘You’ll protect us if danger comes, won’t you, you ten-foot golem made of solid badass.’

Slipping deeper into drowsiness, he could have sworn Claygon stood just a little bit taller at the mental praise. He must have been imagining it. Wasn’t he?

That was a worry for another day.

…For another day.

Alex knew something big was happening when he stepped into Baelin’s office. A floating block of obsidian hovered in the centre of the room, and pieces of paper and parchment were attached to it. Much of what was written was numbers, figures, calculations and logistics. In the centre was a map—which appeared to overlay another map—of the north-eastern region of the continent.

He wondered what it was for.

“Ah good, you’re here a little early.” The chancellor glanced at the doors to his office. “I have two things to tell you about.”

He held up a book, written in a language Alex didn’t understand. “I think I might have found a lead on your mysterious attackers.”

“Really?” Alex quickly walked over, staring at the book. “Is it Thameish?”

“No. If this is the same monster, then the creature did not come from Thameland at all. Not at all.”

Chapter 87

The Expedition and the Doodle

Alex’s eyes flicked to the map. “Where did the book say the creature was from?”

“Oh, the author had no idea,” Baelin said. “There was a sighting, which one of my librarians found.” The book hovered in front of Baelin, flipping its pages to a spot near the middle. The chancellor made a face. “Ugh, charming.”

“What is it?”

“Some of the library books are cared for with little care by students who use them, and considering where this book is from, it’s no surprise that some feel the need to add their own little… creative vandalisms in the form of doodles in the margins. Three pages before, someone had drawn a rather creative depiction of an emperor and an octopus in a… ‘loving embrace’ shall we say.”

Alex shuddered. “Gross.”

“Indeed, ‘very gross,’ as you young folk would say. I digress.” Baelin took hold of the book and spoke something in a strange language. Its tones were smooth—almost regal—but the consonants were harsh and guttural at times. “That is the High Imperial Tongue of the Irtyshenan Empire. In the common tongue, it translates to: We tracked the rune-marked, and within the Western Borders of Kymiland, with all of its foul and treacherous barbarians and savage monsters, we lost sight of the light of Mount Titarsios and we slipped from the gaze of the Virtuous Gods within the vile trees. For days we wandered, battling the hordes of barbaric elves, savage forest humanity and even the foreign firbolgs. We were tired and our guards were down. Our guide—one of the Bloodwalkers—caught the movement before the rest of us.”

The chancellor turned the page. “The beast was unknown to us: humanoid—as though its form were mocking us—stinger-toothed, and with great claws on its fingers. Its hide was like thousands of scabs and turned away good imperial steel. We lost Agreus, Zevchen and Bolg in the first few seconds. Our Bloodwalker went after it, and thanks to her enhancements, she managed to finish the beast off. She did take a mortal wound, and we had to retreat with her before the trolls came; they always arrive at the scent of blood.”

He looked up at Alex. “And that is the account. The only mention of anything that really seems to match these monsters in all of our books in the library.”

“That’s all?” Alex asked. “Anything else in the book?”

“I have yet to comb through it myself.” Baelin grimaced. “Our librarians found no other mention. There has been much to do, much to plan… and that blasted demon summoner still has not been caught.”

“Really?” In all that had happened recently, the demon attack had pretty much left Alex’s mind. He’d even grown used to the increased patrols of the Watchers of Roal. They’d just merged into the new normal. “Maybe they’re gone?”

“Oh no, they are not.” Baelin made a face. “Things have been found, but nothing that would bring us any closer to the villain.”

“…What kinds of things?”

The ancient wizard stared hard at him for a moment. “I have two questions for you: do you know much about demonology? What is often required in such summonings?”

“Yeah, demons usually want some kind of sacrifice. Meat, power, blood… that sort of stuff, before they’ll willingly work with you. Usually.”

“Mhm, and tell me, have you eaten lunch recently?”

“Yeah, wh—Oh. Oh, I see.”

“Indeed. Even if I could reveal the results of the investigation, it would be better for your belly if I did not.”

Alex shuddered. “Riiight. So, what about this Irtyshenan Empire? Do you think the creature is from there? I learned about most of the countries that have contact with Thameland when I was younger, but I don’t know much about the place. Other than it’s enormous.”

“It is not surprising.” Baelin turned to look at the map. “Irtyshenans are somewhat insular. They have their own ways, their own universities—both the mundane and wizardous—and their own practices. They are beset by enemies—since their penchant for conquering tends to create enemies—the rune-marked being foremost of those. As for whether this creature came from those lands? I am unsure. This is our first lead, though I doubt the empire would welcome investigators from a foreign power.”

Alex sighed. “Is that it, then? When was the account from?”

“Roughly three hundred years ago.”

Three hundred years ago…

Three hundred years ago…

Was there anything special in that era that he knew from learning about world history or about Thameland itself? He thought back through past lessons about long-dead kings and foreign wars before an obvious event occurred to him. Three hundred years would have meant three generations of the Ravener’s cycle.

Three generations of Heroes.

And three generations ago…

“The Traveller was one of the Heroes in Thameland three hundred years ago,” Alex said. “And if that’s the only time this monster has been sighted…”

Baelin’s eyes narrowed. “That is a thin connection, interesting to be sure, but a thin connection, if any at all.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess.” Alex looked back at the map, eyeing the border between Kymiland and the Irtyshenan Empire. Maybe in the future—when he learned powerful teleportation magic—he’d go there and look into the sighting of the creature. His mind went back to the term ‘rune-marked.’

“What’s a rune-marked?” he asked.

“That… is a bit of an explanation, but suffice it to say they are somewhat similar to your Heroes. Chosen warriors of a god. Red runes appear on their skin, which recount their deeds in battle. Each grants them power.”

“Really?” Alex gawked. “That… that’s huge. Maybe there’s a connection between the Heroes and these rune-marked?”

“Not likely, I’m afraid. Magical markings, divine stigmata, alchemical tattoos and scarification are not uncommon in the world. And the rune-marked are—well, as I said, another time. I did not call you here to speak of the creature alone.”

“Alright,” Alex said, eyeing the book. “May I take a look at the book?”

“Feel free; it is not a book restricted for one at your stage of study.” Baelin handed it to him. “Now, for the important part.”

The ancient wizard snapped his fingers and the map of the continent rolled itself up and vanished in a display of teleportation magic. Alex’s brow furrowed when he saw the map behind it.

It was a map of Thameland, with several points marked. He recognized the capital, as well as a notation for the Cave of the Traveller. Far to the south—in an area where he saw no settlements for miles—was a symbol indicating a tent.

“I have had meetings with the alchemy department, the school administration, and our treasurer,” Baelin said. “And the ink has finally dried upon the paperwork.”

The chancellor was nearly glowing with excitement as he eyed the tent symbol.

“Paperwork for what?” Alex asked, though his mind was rapidly drawing a conclusion.

What Baelin said next confirmed his suspicions. “Why, an expedition to your homeland, of course. The alchemy department is very excited by the results shown by your Claygon, as well as the analysis of the dungeon core’s remains.”

He tapped the map. “The city’s ruling wizard council and I have been in negotiations. They have spoken with witnesses from the patrizia’s party: witnesses that spoke of the power of your golem. I informed them of a discovery that was made using a certain substance from Thameland. They were very eager to learn more about everything I told them. We will work together. They are currently arranging an audience between myself, a delegate from the city, and your king.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Indeed. If all goes well, Generasi will aid Thameland in return for allowing the university to purchase or lease a parcel of land to the south. From there, we will be setting up a research camp, complete with a teleportation circle created and maintained by myself, which will connect directly to a laboratory on campus. We will—with your king’s permission—harvest and research dungeon cores. Most of our experiments will be conducted at the lab here at the university, but preliminary analysis will be done at the research camp. …As well as experiments with any live dungeon cores we might capture since they seem not to be able to leave Thameland.”

Baelin looked away from the map. “I would like you… and some of my other students, to be part of this expedition.”

Alex wasn’t entirely certain what to make of that. “Seriously?”

“Indeed. Your Mark, growing skill, and personal experience with dungeon cores would be a great asset to our work. You could simply aid with the part of the research that takes place on campus, if you wish, though I will be working to ensure priests are barred from approaching our encampment. If we are going to do our work unbothered, I will not have the servants of any god coming in to possibly muck up our plans. I would understand if you did not wish to take part, but I hope you will consider it.”

Alex swallowed, honestly thinking about it.

He knew he’d be returning to Thameland one day, at the very least, once the Ravener was gone. A part of him had even imagined sneaking back if he could to do more research on the dungeon cores. That had been even before he’d gotten the support of Baelin, Jules and his cabal-mates.

This wouldn’t be how he imagined his return, but was he ever excited just thinking about it!

As long as he could avoid detection by Thameland’s priests, he could continue his studies, advance his academic career, and unlock more of the mystery of the Ravener all at the same time.

There would be danger involved, but he was no stranger at overcoming danger at this point. Besides, a part of him wondered how he and his friends would manage against a dungeon now that he was better trained, experienced and more powerful.

“Yeah, if the priests won’t be around, wild horses couldn’t keep me away, Baelin. I want to see where this goes.”

Baelin grinned. “Excellent! You are the second to accept, right after Professor Jules. I will be approaching others soon, but I’m particularly pleased that you’re on board, m’boy.”

His goat-like eyes twinkled, then he snapped his fingers. “Now, there’s some paperwork I need to go through, then I’ll need to get some signatures from you. If I do not, then I am fairly sure Hobb will kill me.”

Alex snorted. “Like Hobb could kill you.”

“Let us just say it is a good thing for the city that we have no reason to fight.”

A chill went down Alex’s spine as he imagined an apocalyptic battle between the ancient wizard and devil. To erase the thought from his mind, he flipped open the book from the Irtyshenan Empire as Baelin leafed through the paperwork, marking certain places.

Excitement surged through Alex at the thought of the expedition and all the things that might be discovered through it. If it was successful, it would help both wizardry and Thameland. By being part of it, his future prospects would soar.

Thinking of a bright future, he idly flipped through the book. The language was one Alex could not understand, so he focused on the doodles and messages instead. Three hundred years of students insulting the empire, making notations, writing things in other languages he didn’t know, and even writing notes to each other.

He continued to flip through the pages, amused.

Then he nearly fumbled the book, flipping back a page.

Alex Roth squinted at writing nestled in the corner.

It was a short message, one he’d nearly missed. “Sweet saint of Alric!” he cursed. “B-Baelin.” He rushed to the chancellor with the book held out in front of him. “Baelin, look at this!”

“Hm?” The chancellor looked up. “What’s the matter, you look like you’ve seen—” He glanced at the book and his words died. “…Oh.”

There, in a language neither could understand, in handwriting they’d never seen before, was a note using symbols they both recognized.

It was the same language that lay within the pages of the Book of the Traveller.

Mark of the Fool will continue in Mark of the Fool 3!

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