Cast Into Darkness (15 page)

“You have another point?”

“Yes. I know you think it’s easy for me to forget about acting, about college, and throw all that away to be a caster.” She looked up at him. “It’s not. I still want to act. I want to go back to Cornell for summer session. I want that damned scholarship. I earned it. It isn’t something you bought for me or got some sleazeball congressman to legislate. And right now, being a caster doesn’t sound like much of a life. It only gets you killed.” She swallowed.

He squeezed her shoulder.

“So let me have my way, for once,” she said. “This is important to me. Let me help figure out the stone and how Brian got it. How he died.” She looked up at him. “If you want me to be happy in this life, you need to give me a chance to understand how I ended up here. Otherwise, all I’ll want is what I earned myself. Not what I inherited with Brian’s death.”

He was quiet for so long, staring out the window at the ocean, that she thought he wasn’t going to respond. Then, “Has it occurred to you that I don’t have to worry about you if you’re safe behind these walls? Can’t you just do what I want for once, and stay here and train, and not put yourself in the kind of danger that Brian put himself in?”

“Dad, I’ll be all right.”

He gave her a long look. “Kate, I understand your point. But you need to focus on what’s important. Train. Get to know the other casters here. The Affiliates, the students. You’re one of them now. You want to go back to Cornell because you’ve never felt like you belonged here. Well, now you do.”

Easy for him to say.
She sighed.

He headed for the door. “I want you in my office at three for Victor’s report on your attack. I’ll tell Grayson to give you a break from training.”

Well, at least that was something. But it looked like she’d have to discover the truth about Brian and the stone on her own. She got up to walk with him. “Um…thanks, Dad.”

They took the staircase slowly. Kate sensed a hesitancy in her father’s step. Maybe she had hurt him more than he let on. She swallowed down the pain that rose up at the thought. Everything would be okay now that he was on the mend.

After all, there was no way that she, or anyone else, could ever really hurt him.

Kate flinched as
a bolt of sparkling red energy shot from the young man in Hamilton-blue workout clothes across from her. It hit her newly cast shield spell right by her head, filling her ears with a sound of hundreds of angry bees, then fizzled, all its energy absorbed by the shield’s cool-blue glow. She caught the scent of vanilla. Another spell clipped her arm. Her shield held again.

When was Dylan going to let up?

Sweat trickled down her forehead. This exercise had been going on for what seemed like forever.

She circled the large ring, keeping Grayson’s lanky assistant in sight. He didn’t seem much older than Kate, but he must have been training for years—at least, judging from how fast he targeted her with bolt after nasty bolt.

Grayson leaned back in his chair near the wall of the Sanctum, watching her. Probably wondering how much more she could take.

I’m wondering the same thing.

Her legs shook as another red bolt thumped into her shield. The bright glow of her shield faded to a lighter blue with each spell it absorbed.

“I think that’s all I can do, Gra—”

The blue glow tore away with a
whoosh
. A low-power kinetic blast walloped her in her midsection, sending her flying back. Her butt hit the ground with a painful thud, the wind knocked out of her.

Dylan hurried over to give her a hand up, his skin shiny with sweat. His wire-rimmed glasses couldn’t mask the concern in his earnest eyes.

“Sorry I knocked you arse over elbows,” he said.

His accent sounded English. Her family controlled part of England and fought the Makrises and the Delcroixes for London for the past few years, but this was the first time she’d met a British caster, one of the Pearce family who’d allied with hers against the others. She took his assistance with a muttered thank-you, getting slowly to her feet.

After she caught her breath, she asked her uncle, “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. But you need to know what it feels like to have a spell get through the shield, as well as repelling the blasts themselves.”

She rubbed her backside. Maybe. Or maybe her uncle was a little ticked off with her questions about whether he’d discovered anything about the stone. The answer to that had been a curt “no.” Plus, she’d arrived late for her first practice. Apparently, her discussion with her father was no excuse.

Grayson let only a few casters assist, telling her that Dad wanted news of her transformation kept “need to know” for right now. He’d started right in with training, first talking over the spells he wanted her to learn, then having Dylan demonstrate most of them. After she’d asked, he’d said he’d teach her teleporting in a few weeks. He hadn’t been very amenable to her suggestion that they move that spell up in the lesson plan.

“Isn’t there a less painful way to learn?” Kate asked.

A wry smile flashed across his face. “Perhaps. But you’ll remember better this way. You need to know when your shield is low so that you can plan another action before it runs out.” He stood. “The trick to winning a fight is thinking ahead. Not one step, but several. If you only react, you’re dead. Take a seat. Watch.”

Kate slumped against the wall, a cushion under her tender backside. She folded her legs and focused on the ring. Another of her uncle’s assistants entered, a young woman about the same age as Dylan, black ponytail bobbing as she trotted into the ring. She and Dylan gave the traditional bow, then squared off, each walking to an opposite end of the boxing-ring-sized arena.

Her uncle came over to stand next to her. She focused on the ring, engaging her magesight. Both of the combatants had activated their shields, and each did something more. They had another spell they were preparing at the same time, their fingers flying faster than she’d ever seen.
Wow.

“How do they do that? Get one spell up right after the other?” she asked her uncle.

“Practice.”

That seemed to be his default answer.

Dylan slashed his hand in front of his chest, and two daggers of blue energy shot from his fingers. The air rippled in their path. They hit his opponent’s shield and evaporated with a sizzle. The girl’s fingers flew and fire erupted around Dylan. He flinched as his shield’s glow faded to a robin’s-egg blue, absorbing the damage from the flames. Dylan chanted, fingers tapping, and the fire transformed into a thousand gleaming shards of metal. The sharp-edged fragments swarmed through the air back at the woman. When they hit her shield they tore ragged slices in the bright-blue covering and sent her staggering back a few steps before fading away.

They cast spell after spell. Some of the spells they threw looked like the ones Kate had been taught as a kid, and some she couldn’t identify. But each had a symbol that she could see. Although some went by so fast she didn’t think she could write them down even if she tried.

Grayson called a halt to the exercise. “That’s it for now. Good job.” He looked down at Kate. “Tell me what you saw.”

She thought about it. “Your assistants are crazy fast. Brooke had been quick but not like that. But Victor…when he teleported in, then took out Brooke, he cast even faster.” Her shoulders slumped. “If the people I’m going to go up against are anything close to Victor’s level, then I may as well give up now.”

Grayson laughed. “It’s all about training and practice. That’s how Victor got so good.” His face went somber, the laugh erased. “Brian was that good. You could be, too. Just apply yourself.”

He pushed himself off the wall. “And remember, we’re in the Sanctum. No paranoia backlash. So there’s no incentive to be conservative with casting. In a real fight, you won’t see so many spells thrown around, but you will see the speed and a similar strategy.”

Kate stood. “Victor went straight for the knockout. He didn’t even give Brooke a chance.”

“Yes, that’s what he’d do. It’s the most efficient way to fight.”

“Is there another way?”

“Of course. Using high-powered spells, the way Victor does, creates more backlash. You feel the effects more, get twitchier. Using too many of those spells too often has, of course, a greater, long-term effect on a caster’s mental health. There will be times you’ll want a subtler approach. But those are techniques you’ll learn later. For now, let me get your homework assignments.” Grayson strode to the back of the Sanctum and rummaged through the large wooden desk set against the wall.

Great, homework.
But what else did she expect? She had a lot of catching up to do—years’ worth. Still, homework wasn’t exactly the biggest thing on her mind right now.

She still didn’t think Grayson was being straight with her about how Brian died. Why else would he be avoiding her questions about the stone? She needed to know what was really going on. And it seemed that Grayson telling her the truth was about as probable as a twitchy caster sitting with his back to the door.

She spotted Dylan a few yards away, pulling on his brown suede jacket. A flash of silver from the jacket’s lining caught her eye.

A row of talismans were pinned inside—the magical equivalent of carrying concealed.

She drew in a breath. What did Grayson’s assistant need all that firepower for? No matter how quickly he could cast in the Sanctum, he wasn’t a combat mage like Victor.

But talismans were issued by her father, and he wouldn’t hand a stack like that out to someone he didn’t trust. Right?

Whatever Dylan was, he might know something about artifacts. About the stone. Something Grayson wasn’t willing to tell her. But would he pass on everything she asked to Grayson?

She should keep her mouth shut. But then she’d never find out the truth.

She sidled up to him. “So…can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Miss Hamilton.” He turned those bright eyes on her.

“Call me Kate.” She so hated Boss’s Daughter Syndrome. “Anyway, since you’re Grayson’s assistant and you know about me, you know about Brian, as well, right? About how he died?”

Dylan glanced over at Grayson, still sorting through his desk, and then at the other casters, none close enough to overhear. “I know some things—like about the stone. Is that what you mean?”

The knot of tension in her stomach eased. “Yes. The stone. If I…asked you something about it, would you promise not to tell Grayson?”

“He’s my superior. It would be…awkward.”

“Please. I don’t know who else to ask.” She hated the pleading sound in her voice as she blinked away the tears. “I think he’s keeping something from me. Something important. About how my brother died and about the stone’s power. I have to know whether the stone killed him. Or if…if it was my fault.”

Dylan gave her a long look. “All right. Let me see what I can find out.” He turned to go.

“Hey, what’s with all the talismans?” Kate asked.

“They’re for my other job. I’m your father’s primal magic specialist.”

“Primal, um… Oh.” Kate bit her lip. The stone was a primal magic artifact—one of the rare artifacts from the First Age, so powerful and deadly they were outlawed. And Dylan was an expert in primal magic? She studied him closer, hoping to see through the geeky charm of his junior-librarian cover identity to the guy who walked such a dangerous edge. No luck. If a primal magic badass lurked behind those glasses, Dylan hid him well.

“So, you should know all about the stone, then,” she asked.

“I should, shouldn’t I? Interesting that your uncle has barely consulted me.” His gaze held Grayson’s form, walking toward them, in its steady focus. “But then I work for him, not the other way around.” He nodded to her. “I’ll be in touch.”

She barely had time to think about what Dylan’s words meant before Grayson came back with a stack of books and binders, topped with a small bundle of papers. He handed them over to her. “I’m condensing a few assignments because you’ll need to review the basics. They’re all due Wednesday.”

She glanced through the lessons. How was she going to read five chapters of
Practical Casting
, a hundred pages of
The History of Magic: The Second Era
, three chapters of
Basic Principles of Artifacts and Talismans
, and memorize the patterns and chants for six new spells by Wednesday? It wasn’t like she had a spell to cram it all in her head. Magic didn’t work directly on the mind.

Besides, she had to meet Kris tomorrow night. He’d insisted on coming out to see her, to comfort her. She’d drawn the line at having him come to the house—no way was she going to let Dad discover and wreck this relationship—so she’d told him to meet her at a hotel in Montauk instead. The little tourist town lay far enough away that they had a chance of escaping her dad’s prying eyes. Assuming she could sneak away and get out from under this crazy workload.

“Um…Grayson? This is too much. I don’t see how I can get all of this done by then.” She handed the homework back to him.

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. He put the books back down on the desk. “Fine. I told your father I didn’t think much of this plan to have you do independent study. We can go back to the traditional way of doing this.”

“Ah, no. Wait—”

“I’m sure you’ll find it much easier to learn this material in a classroom setting. With other students. And we’ll have to start you back where you were. At the seventh-grade level. Your more mature perspective will be good for those kids.” Grayson’s eyes were dead serious.

Kate snatched the papers from his hands. “You’ll have it by Wednesday.” She slammed them on top of the books and binders.

She stalked from his office.

At least now I get to find out what Victor has discovered about Brooke.

Aside from that little break, she’d be buried in homework so deep she’d be lucky to fight her way free in time to see Kris.

Or worry any more about how honest Grayson had been about Brian’s death.