Demon Accords 8: College Arcane (18 page)

“He doesn’t throw sparks. He burns things to
the ground,” Caeco said, looking at me sadly. A thought occurred to
me. Why was she over there and not over here with me? Why was it
Jetta and Ryanne who were holding me and not my girlfriend?

An older woman, the doctor, was suddenly in
my face. She pressed on my side and my vision blurred as fire tore
through my ribs. Every breath burned and I felt panic take over as
I tried to get air.

“He’s got broken or bruised ribs. Bring him
this way,” the doctor said.

“He can’t breathe, doctor,” Ryanne said,
worried.

A pair of hands took each side of my head,
avoiding my jaw, and gray eyes met mine. “Focus on me, young man,
and the sound of my voice. Breathe slow and shallow. The pain makes
you think you can’t take a breath, but you can. Slow and shallow.
That’s it. Almost a panting type breath,” Dr. Rosewell said, her
voice calm and even. I got the hang of it, catching just enough
oxygen with each small, short intake to just meet my needs.

“Okay. That’s better, right? Now I want you
to concentrate on my voice. You’re not going to like this next
part, but it needs to be done, and the sooner, the better.”

Her hands dropped lower on my face, then
firmed up. “Hold him still.” A sudden sharp twist and shove and my
jaw exploded and my vision blacked out.

I came back to myself gradually. My head and
jaw throbbed and my ribs shot with pain, but it was slightly duller
than I remembered. What had happened? Where was I? I tried to open
my mouth and was quickly reminded of why that was a bad idea. The
pain and the tightly wrapped bandage that went under my jaw and
over my head stopped me from any further mouth movements.

Oh yeah. Delwood had picked a fight, Jenks
had allowed it and crippled my magic, and then I got my ass kicked
in front of my girlfriend and all my classmates.

He had beat me down in seconds flat and I
couldn’t do anything to stop it. I’d never been so helpless in all
my life. Not as a captive in New Hampshire, not even as a child
being held by a maniac. My magic had always been there, always a
part of me, always giving me some kind of option. Levi had beaten
me before, although never to the point of real injury, but still
enough to knock any pride right out of me. Even fuming mad, the
magic had been there to comfort me and let me know my physical
abilities weren’t the end of the story.

The bands were still there, twisting my
vision and blocking my senses. The room was unfamiliar but the
medical stuff and the exam table-slash-bed I was on were pretty
good clues as to where I was. So was the fact that my shirt was
gone and my torso was bound with elastic bandages. I was alone and
the door was shut.

I returned my attention to the Warded bands
on my wrists, made of copper and bronze, carved with runes, glyphs,
and sigils, some familiar, others not. It didn’t take rocket
science to figure them out; I quickly understood their method and
function.

By blocking my receiving side
and
my
projecting side, I could neither pull in power nor push it out. But
they were only on my wrists. Both feet still touched Earth and the
two halves of my body were free of them. It dawned on me that part
of their power was suggestion. By blocking the most common avenues
of magic to a witch’s body, they effectively disrupted focus and
intent.

Much of magic is psychology, convincing your
brain that you can do something that it doesn’t believe is
possible. It’s the same thing that stops adults from believing or
perceiving things that kids instinctively know as possible.
Children are often sensitive to the occult, mostly because they
haven’t been taught by life not to be.

All the spells we do, the runes we draw, the
words we say or sing are just methods of mental accounting. Focus
methods to trick our brains into doing what it already knows how to
do.

I have clear memories of my mother telling me
that a skilled witch, a truly well-trained Crafter, doesn’t need
words or symbols, but can create complex results with just her or
his mind. That was how she’d taught me, avoiding as many crutches
as possible. So I really just ever used a few runes to add
structure to my spellcraft. Which was maybe what I needed now.

A quick and very painful exploration of the
drawers in the little medical cabinet in the corner turned up a
black ink pen; one of those gel pens that write really well and are
pretty cheap.

Pushing up the ward bracelet on my left
wrist, I was able to get to the pale skin under my wrist. Cen,
aesc, eoh, and sigel overlapped each other. Torch, Ash-tree, Yew,
and Sun.

On my right wrist, I drew the same symbols
but in reverse order. Now when I pressed my arms together, the
runes matched up, like-to-like. Instantly, there was a connection,
like a circuit being completed. Those four runes represented
knowledge and Craft to me, to my unconscious mind. The simple ink
symbols formed a link, not in reality, but in my head, which was
where a good witch forced reality to bend and change.

I started slow, using my own internal reserve
of magic or mana or whatever you want to call the energy we use.
Maybe it’s chi; I don’t know. All I know is it formed a circuit
from the core of my power, two inches below my belly, up my torso
to my right shoulder, down my arm, through my wrist, across the gap
to my other wrist, up my left arm, back down to center. Just a
trickle in the beginning, but as my mind confirmed that it was
working, I upped the amperage. A glance at the bands showed the
visual twisting to be harder, more violent, more stomach churning.
But that too was just a trick of the brain, a way for my mind to
interpret what my eyes were showing it. So I forced myself to keep
looking and upped the flow yet again. And again. The bracelets
fought me, but my personal reserve is deep, even deeper now than a
few months ago when I had shivered and froze in a warded holding
tank deep underground. Practice since then had pushed my fuel tank
to new limits.

The exercise became easier as it started to
reinforce itself, the circuit flowing faster and stronger, the
stream of power wider each time through.

I felt a snap, an etheric pop of something
breaking, followed by a second one, and the bracelets ceased to
twist my vision, becoming just bands of copper and bronze.

The door to my room was locked, but there are
very few things crafted of metal that refuse the will of a skilled
Earth witch. Finding the outer room empty, I slipped—well, let’s be
honest—I staggered out the door and into the main floor hallway. It
was quiet; the sun streaming in the windows of the dining room as I
entered told me that was the middle of the school day.

The dining room staff looked at me a little
oddly as I grabbed an entire quart of chocolate milk and a couple
of straws, but no one said a word. Two painful flights of stairs
later and I was in my own room, the door locked and warded behind
me. I sucked blessedly cold milk through a straw and fumbled in my
dresser till I found the deerhide bag my aunt had given me on
move-in day. Inside it, among the little ziplock bags of herbs,
crystals, and powders were three un-dyed cotton pouches that looked
a little unfocused to my eyes. I squeezed one hard, pictured the
rune nyd or
need
in my mind and shoved the little charm
under my shirt against my bound ribs. The dorm-standard bed had
never felt soft and comfortable before, but it was a cushioned nest
as I fell into it, fully dressed, letting the world slip away.

Chapter 18

Pounding on the door woke me several times.
It was Mack’s voice that finally roused me. Touching the concrete
floor, I mentally disarmed the wards and unlocked the door,
pulling
it open just a bit. The yelling stopped and after a
moment, Mack cautiously stuck his head around the door.

“Is it safe to come in?”

I beckoned him in.

“Dude, I came back from class to find
Velasquez freaking out. You disappeared from the doctor’s office
and then they couldn’t open your door. Miss Berg couldn’t break
your spells or whatever, and you didn’t answer to their
knocking.”

I shrugged. He suddenly looked behind him,
then moved further into the room in a manner that told me someone
was behind him.

Gina Velasquez peered into the room, looking
around until she saw me, then she started to come in. I scrambled
to get somewhat upright, sucking air at the pain. I wasn’t going to
listen to another adult and my left hand rested on the electric
outlet next to the bed, ready if need be.

She took in my expression and froze in place.
“Hey, Declan. Just wanted to make sure you’re all right. Doctor
Rosewell panicked a bit when you vanished but when we couldn’t
unlock your door, I figured you were holed up in here. You
okay?”

I gave her a short nod, waiting to see what
she was going to do. There was no way I was letting any more
faculty
do absolutely anything to me.

Her dark eyes were very sharp as she watched
me, and it took her almost no time at all to come to some kind of
decision.

“Okay, so we’ll let you alone. I told the
doctor that you probably didn’t feel safe in her office and just
wanted your own room. Tell you what. Just have Mack here ask for
anything you need and we’ll see that he gets it for you, okay?”

I nodded again and after one more look around
and a final glance at me, she retreated, closing the door behind
her. Voices rose in the hallway, hers predominant among them. After
a few garbled exchanges, the voices faded and the hall was
quiet.

“Dude, you look like hell. Are you hurting?”
Mack asked.

Was I? The healing charm on my ribs had
reduced the pain of breathing to a dull, steady ache. Flexing my
jaw at all was instantly painful and every joint and muscle felt
awful. I held one hand out, palm down, and waggled it back and
forth.

“Want some Motrin or something?”

Aunt Ash had powdered willow bark in my
little herb kit, but frankly, I think good old ibuprofen beats the
piss out of willow every time. I nodded and he grabbed a bottle
from his bath stuff. Pouring two pills into his hand, he looked at
me again and added a third. Glancing around for a drink, he was at
a loss until I hefted the remainder of the purloined chocolate milk
and showed him I was all set. There was just enough milk left to
wash the pills down after I poked them between the tiny gap I could
open in my teeth. I floated the empty jug to the wastebasket and
dropped it in.

“Wait, how are you doing magic if you’re
still wearing those bracelet thingies?” he asked.

I pulled a pad of paper from the little stand
near my bed and wrote out my answer:
I broke them.

“You broke Jenks’s super-duper anti-witch
bracelets?” he asked.

I nodded, looking at the little ink-drawn
runes on my wrists.

“So, dude… you got a plan to fix that fuck
stick Delwit? Cause I really, really hope you do,” he said.
“Thought my sister was gonna stick him with a silver blade right
there in the classroom. Anyway, count us in.”

I was still staring at the runes and thinking
rapid thoughts. Looking up at him, I nodded then wrote on the pad.
I think so. Gotta work out the details.

“Cool. What can I do to help?”

I thought about that for a moment. My stomach
rumbled and we both heard it.
Gonna need food I can eat through
a straw. Protein shake or something?

“Yeah, the doctor mentioned something about
having the kitchen whip up some kind of nutritious drink for you.
Oh, and soups. How about something fancy? You like lobster,
right?”

I nodded.

“Good, I’ll tell them you need lobster
bisque. Might as well work the shit out of this whole clusterfuck,”
he said.

There was a knock at the door and when Mack
asked who it was, his sister answered. He looked at me and I
touched the floor. The door unlocked and opened itself to reveal
Jetta, who was giving the door a wary look, and behind her,
Caeco.

“Hey, how ya doing?” Jetta asked. I shrugged,
then looked at Caeco. She seemed nervous and… weird.

“Are you healing satisfactorily?” Caeco asked
awkwardly, sounding like she had when we first met.

I nodded, watching her. Her eyes were jumping
around, looking everywhere but at mine.

“He’s hungry, though. I’m gonna get the
kitchen to make him a bunch of stuff,” Mack said, attempting to
bridge the awkwardness. His sister gave Caeco a funny glance, then
smiled at me.

“That’s a great idea. We’ll see you
downstairs, Mack,” Jetta said.

“Yes, let’s go get Declan’s food,” Caeco
said, turning and just about running out of the room. Her roommate
looked after her in disbelief before turning back to me and giving
me a little wave goodbye.

I wrote on my pad and showed it to Mack.
WTF?

“Don’t know, dude, but that was weird. She
was acting all squirrelly right after the fight. Jetta will know
what’s going on. I’ll find out at dinner.”

She looked embarrassed. She’s embarrassed
that I got beat up so fast and so easily.