Chapter 18. Flying High

  The house was indeed a chaos, full of chattering inquisitors dividing up responsibilities for the urgent next steps. The homeowner had already been brought up to the living room, where three healers were working on him at once to get the pentagram victim stable enough for immediate teleportation to the General Staff infirmary.

  Calypso and I had settled into the small kitchen, where it was quieter. Calypso practically forced me to finally start eating a sandwich, and that’s when Moris popped in.

  “The victim of this pentagram turned out to be a goldmine of information,” he said, nodding gratefully to Calypso, who handed him a glass of water.

  “Not that the poor man remembers anything; he has no idea who knocked him out or how but we managed to extract some important information from him. Elza worked through his memory thoroughly.”

  “Did you find out who’s been drawing these pentagrams?” Calypso asked.

  Moris shook his head. He drained the glass in one gulp and ran his fingers through his black hair.

  Moris Clarkson wasn’t just our colleague. He was also my older brother Eric’s son, and the two of them worked actively in the Inquisition, a sort of family operation. They were also trying to bring some order to the Staff. Moris had done quite well at that over the past few years, but people like the Mackelberrys remained a problem. They also wanted to run a family operation in the Inquisition, except the Staff would be better off without them entirely.

  “No, we couldn’t identify the exact person, but we picked up faint echoes of an energy trail. Can’t identify anyone from it, but we can try to follow the fading trail, so the Mentor and I are going to try tracking it now. Lora, how are you? Feeling better?”

  I nodded, since my voice still wasn’t cooperating, my thoughts not quite present.

  “Excellent! You used your magical gift at exactly the right moment today, wonderful work, Lora! I’m impressed, and the Mentor is absolutely thrilled it all worked out so well. Elza says if even a few more minutes had passed, she wouldn’t have been able to extract any information at all.”

  Moris waited for Ilforte to come up from the basement to the living room, then the two of them rushed off somewhere, waving goodbye to us.

  But honestly, I suddenly couldn’t care less about that trail, or the Seals of Creation in general, or anything at all…

  “Could you really have killed him just now?” I asked very quietly, almost in a whisper, when we were alone in the kitchen again.

  “Cloyne?” Calypso clarified, insistently pushing a bowl of fruit toward me.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t joking.”

  I took a shaky breath and ran a trembling hand over my face, pushing my hair aside. The dizziness had passed, and the food was helping — the weakness was slowly fading.

  Obviously he wasn’t joking — no one swears on their magical Spark for fun…

  “The Mackelberrys aren’t people you want to cross…” I said quietly.

  “I’m not someone you want to cross either,” Calypso said harshly.

  “But Cloyne won’t let this go now. Even if he doesn’t report this incident to anyone, he might try to get revenge on his own. He has powerful connections, and you could have problems…”

  “Listen, Lori,” Calypso cut in, leaning on the table and looking into my eyes.

  “You shouldn’t even be thinking about this. I placed a subtle mental spell on him that won’t let anyone extract information about this incident from Cloyne’s mind. And I’m not afraid of anyone. Mackelberry can try to get revenge all he wants. I'm way stronger than him and I’ll shut down any move he makes if necessary.”

  “Doesn’t that sound a bit overconfident?”

  “Just confident enough.”

  I took a shaky breath and sank my teeth into an apple. I chewed mechanically, barely tasting it.

  “Still… You shouldn’t have… I don’t know… This whole mess happened because of problematic me…”

  “Lori,” Calypso smiled gently.

  “Cloyne is just a nobody. And he thinks like a dumb nobody. That kind of thing needs to be shut down hard. If someone like our Mentor were in General Mackelberry’s place, idiots like that simply wouldn’t last in the Inquisition, and all that nonsense would be knocked out of their heads fast. But we’ve got what we’ve got…”

  He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and added:

  “I won’t let anyone insult you, Lori. You’re wonderful in every way. And your magic is wonderful too. I've always told you that, and today I saw it more clearly than ever. It just needs a little ‘fixing.’ Don’t let the toxic words of lowlifes into your heart. Listen only to people who actually care about you.”

  “And you?” I whispered, my heart pounding.

  “Do you care about me?”

  “What do you think?” Calypso asked with a smirk.

  “I think it’s rude to answer a question with a question.”

  Calypso chuckled, but instead of answering, he leaned in closer, pulled me toward him by the back of my neck, and suddenly touched his lips to mine.

  This kiss was… different, somehow. Tender and gentle, I guess. Calypso kissed me slowly, not trying to turn up the heat like usual, not deepening the kiss, just… just enjoying being close to me. As if saying with this kiss, ‘I’m here with you, you matter, I need you.’

  And it was so unexpected that every other thought flew right out of my head… Including the not-so-irrelevant thought that we hadn’t exactly picked the best time and place for kissing.

  We were both so caught up in each other, that we didn’t notice Elza walking into the kitchen, freezing in the doorway and staring at us with wide eyes. But she just silently walked back out, not wanting to disturb us, tactfully closing the door behind her.

  Actually, Calypso had sensed Elza’s presence nearby, but didn’t see fit to interrupt our sweet kiss. He waved her off, like ‘go away, don’t bother us,’ but I didn’t see that gesture.

  “What do you think about all these pentagrams?” I asked Calypso when we’d teleported back to Armarillis and joined our classmates on the training field, waiting for practice to start.

  “I’ve got too many theories and can’t figure out which one might be right. One thing’s clear the inquisitors and us need to put our heads together fast.”

  “It would be great if the Mentor and Moris found the trail of whoever’s behind all this,” I sighed.

  “Yeah, that’s not likely. Don’t count on it.”

  “Why?…”

  Calypso shrugged.

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  “If the trail of whoever’s doing this could be followed, my father or the inquisitors would have done it long ago and found the right person. Moris definitely would have. He knows a bit about shadow magic. Or Bella with her bloodhound gift would have found the right trail. But none of them have. Third pentagram and still nothing.”

  “Something’s off here. And Elza wasn’t just talking when she said forces at least at her level are involved… I don’t know, I can’t make heads or tails of it yet, not enough information. Well, maybe today they’ll find something new at least… Not enough leads. But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I think what’s behind all this isn’t a person, but some kind of higher dark creature, maybe like Elza, or something else… Sorry for calling your mom a dark creature, but technically speaking, she is,” Calypso smirked.

  “Just don’t call her that to her face,” I smiled.

  “She gets it in theory, but she really hates it. Flares up instantly, like a match.”

  “Oh, I’m still in my right mind,” Calypso said seriously.

  “If I ever get the urge to call your mom a dark creature to her face, please just kill me quick. You can do it painlessly, but a greater demon won’t show mercy. And my suffering will be stretched to the max… actually, I'll be the one getting stretched. Without lube.”

  I laughed, though I was well aware that Calypso was only partly joking. My mom in a rage was an extremely dangerous person.

  “When is Professor Cairon going to show up already,” Patricia grumbled nearby, glancing at her watch.

  “Why do we have to wait for him?”

  “Yeah, this isn’t like Professor Cairon at all, he’s never been this late before,” Polly said worriedly, looking toward the field entrance waiting for the professor.

  “Maybe something happened to him?…”

  “It’d be nice if something happened,” Grey said cheerfully, tossing a half-eaten apple from hand to hand.

  “Then they’d let us skip class! I really don’t feel like sword training today… Maybe the professor’s feeling sick?” he said hopefully.

  “Hey, is there any way we can make him feel sick today?…”

  “All you ever want is to slack off, lazybones!”

  “I’m not a lazybones, I’m a dragon! Rawr!” Grey growled comically, rolling his eyes wildly.

  “Doesn’t really show,” Polly snorted.

  “Dragons are usually active, but you…”

  “I’m active too,” Grey nodded seriously.

  “Very! Just in a specific position and in the company of lovely ladies.”

  “Oh, whatever,” Polly huffed.

  “What I mean is… Oh!!”

  She clapped both hands over her mouth, staring at something behind me.

  I turned around and was surprised to see my father. Zael was approaching us with long strides, his black cloak streaming behind him, his hair in a long braid swaying as he walked.

  “Good afternoon, adepts. Take your positions,” Zael nodded toward the training area.

  My classmates and I exchanged glances. In everyone’s eyes (except Calypso’s, of course) I saw awe and a silent question: ‘Wait, the First Arma is training us today?!’

  “Where is… Professor Cairon?” Patricia asked hesitantly.

  “I’m filling in for him today,” Zael answered curtly.

  Wow! A rare event, to put it mildly.

  My father almost never runs training sessions with adepts. Probably everyone in Armarillis dreamed of being in one of his training sessions, but not everyone got the chance. My classmates often sighed about how lucky I was to be the First Arma’s daughter and train with him most of the time.

  Well, frankly, there was something to envy — when it came to first-class combat technique, only the Mentor could match him. As a child, I hadn’t thought about it, just took it for granted, and when I returned to Armarillis, at first I thought my combat technique was the same as all my classmates’.

  But during training I quickly understood the difference and came to appreciate my father’s contribution to my development, since all my classmates except Calypso were clearly outmatched by me in combat. Even Calypso had noted more than once during our private sessions that it was very obvious I’d trained directly under the First Arma.

  So my classmates dreamed of getting into one of my father’s training sessions at least once in their lives, and right now they were practically squealing with excitement — you could see it in their looks and excited whispers. Grey even choked on his apple in surprise and hurried to get rid of the core, rushing to the front row to keep up with Zael heading to the starting area.

  And I didn’t miss the brief, pointed look my father shot at Calypso.

  My eye twitched nervously in anticipation of a ‘fun’ training session.

  Zael was brutal today. First, he ran everyone around the field for an hour until we could barely stand, making us pick up the pace again and again and driving us on with fire whips at our backs. So my classmates’ excitement quickly faded, especially after getting several small but still unpleasant burns.

  “You’re not holding your shield properly, Lamárk!” Zael shouted at Kes, who hadn’t dodged the fire whips aimed at his back while running the obstacle course.

  “Reinforce your defense with Vermol charms you can’t go into battle without them! Why were Lorelei and Calypso the only ones smart enough to put up double shields? What are the rest of you thinking? Polly gets a pass, but did the rest of you get stuck at a twelve-year-old’s level too?”

  “I told you it was a mistake to dream about training with the First Arma,” I said mockingly, looking at Iranor, whose sword was visibly wobbling in his hands by this point because he no longer had the strength to hold it steady.

  “I can’t take it anymore!” Mia wailed at one point, dropping her sword and collapsing to the ground in exhaustion.

  “Yes you can!” Zael said sharply.

  “A Fortemin must always be able to push through ‘I can’t’!”

  “I feel like crying,” the elf sniffled, giving Zael a pitiful look.

  Oh, how naive! My dad wasn’t the type to be moved by puppy eyes. Actually, puppy eyes could work on him — but only from my mom. In training with anyone else, Zael was merciless.

  “Then cry, who’s stopping you?” he said, helping the elf get up.

  “Let out any emotions you want, however you want. Cry, scream, bite your lips until they bleed, but complete the task. If we finish everything properly today, you’ll get an unscheduled day off tomorrow,” Zael addressed our whole group.

  “You can loaf around however and wherever you want. So put in the work now. Earn your completely free day tomorrow.”

  “I take it back,” Grey muttered at one point, when we were fighting side by side against conjured phantoms in the form of typical minor demons, which were flying toward us in black whirlwinds.

  “I don’t want to train under the First Arma anymore. And I don’t envy you anymore, Lora. Did he always torture you like this?”

  “Yep,” I smirked, dodging flames shot at me by the conjured creatures.

  “My dad’s a real fan of running you into the ground.”

  “Yeah, I noticed,” Grey muttered.

  “Next we’ll be practicing combat techniques in extreme conditions,” Zael said, stretching his wrists as he paced in front of us a while later.

  “Wait, that wasn’t extreme?” Grey whispered in horror from my left.

  “Just a jog through a flowery meadow?”

  “With pink butterflies and unicorns,” I added sarcastically.

  “Didn’t you notice them?…”

  “Quiet,” Zael cut us off with a brief glance our way.

  “We’ll be training mixed combat, using both magic and weapons. Recent events have shown very clearly that you can’t rely on magic alone, so by the Mentor’s order, purely magical training is being removed from your practical schedule for now and adapted to mixed combat. So, here are today’s conditions…”

  Zael clapped his hands while standing on a specially drawn rune on the ground, and a translucent screen appeared in the air before him for controlling the field’s space. The space here was enchanted in a special way that could perfectly replicate any landscape the professor wanted to create. That’s how advanced Armarillis’s training field was.

  Zael touched the screen with his open palm, and it lit up with a shimmering blue glow, while the field’s space immediately began to distort and rapidly change, taking on a new form. Mountains ‘grew’ right before our eyes, and numerous stone platforms of different sizes hung in the air, constantly moving at different heights. Another touch of the screen — and a very strong, gale-force wind began blowing, actively moving the stone platforms and spinning them in a vortex.

  “Simulation of the highland regions of Avalar,” Zael explained.

  “The platforms are in constant motion, the enemy moves in all directions and can attack from above. The strong wind makes it hard to calculate strike trajectories accurately. Flying is very difficult, but the flying hegalarys in Avalar are comfortable in these conditions. If you encounter these creatures unprepared, you won’t survive.”

  “Hegalarys are rare on our path, but we do encounter them, and Armarillis must prepare you for that meeting. Though right now, it’s less about those creatures and more about the skills of working in extreme conditions. Once you master these skills and face hegalarys at least once in your life, you start seeing all lesser dark creatures as scurrying cockroaches you can squash with your pinky. That’s exactly the self-confidence we need to develop. But we’ll add a little spice to this landscape… in the form of lava,” Zael added, tapping another rune on the glowing screen.

  The ground on the training field began to change rapidly, and within a couple of minutes the main area had turned into bubbling lava. It got so hot it felt like the lava was real, not conjured. Though this magical illusion was very convincing and could burn you just like the real thing.

  “I need everyone to focus and watch very carefully. I need a volunteer to demonstrate some specific strike techniques on.”

  I smirked nervously, thinking that only a total lunatic would volunteer under these conditions. Were there any lunatics among us?…

  But Zael didn’t even wait a few seconds — he closed the field control screen and turned to us, immediately nodding at the ‘volunteer.’

  “Calypso. Step forward.”