Gift of Gold (The Year of Churning Bloods) (14 page)

A part of me dimly recognized that s
omewhere, some normal kid may have been
doing chores or playing with people his own age at that moment. In a few hours, he would be settling down for lunch with a bowl of clean water. I could picture him now, looking at me while holding out another fork for me to take.

“Whatsamatta Jacob? You want some food?” The kid snickered and pulled the fork away. “You know what’s funny? Everyone gets hungry, but not everyone gets food. Only strong people get food. Don’cha want some food Jacob?” 

             
“I can see it from here!” I roared from my position. We're getting close!”
In the moment I had said that,
my
concentration slipped and the Gauntlet took full advantage of that.
I was struck dumb by a
cudgel
which
pounded me square on the side of my
head.
I collapsed in a heap.
No sound reached my ears.
No more contact. I could see
but everything was ebbing awa
y, flowing down a drain.
Preston looked like he was screaming.
He was running towards me.

              “Stop...” I tried to say. “I'm not worth it.” Alexi was screaming at Preston...
The other one
was screaming too.
I smiled slightly. They all looked so silly
,
p
rancing around on the spot like there was something hot in their pants.
Preston scooped me u
p
and ran
towards the exit, which seemed to be covered in a thin milky membrane. A flag was forced into my hands and I was hurtled through the transparent shield blocking the door.
I sank through quite easily and fell down to dry earth.
We
had made it
. I wanted to cry I was so happy.
There were so many questions about so many things I wanted answers for, yet all of them could wait. I felt the pain of my head ebb away as I eased into deep unconscious slumber.

             
Chapter
six

             
Demotion

             
I sing for my life,

             
The life to last
,

             
That waters the meadows from lives of the past

             
I sing for the free,

             
T
hey rejoice with me

             
For
t
hey sing and they jig by the moon.

I awoke in a bed. However, it was not just a bed. It was a
soft
bed. Not those nasty things filled with dirt and lice. This bed was goose feathers with downy sheets that smelled of lavender. The enclosure I found myself in was some sort of tunnel with very narrow jagged rock walls. The only lighting came from a lonely lamp not too far from me, which silently casted twisted shadows in every direction. The other seven or so beds lined in uniform precision along the wall were mostly unmade and recently slept in. It seemed like a safe bet to assume the other trainees had stayed here. The insides of my head swam dangerously as I sat upright to observe my surroundings. Now noticing my breathing was constricted I fumbled just below my neck and was somewhat startled to feel a tight leather brace strapped across my chest.

              I held up each arm in turn, examining the bandages going all the way to the shoulder on either side. My fingers tenderly touched the throbbing area on my skull where the gauntlet had struck me. This too was wrapped in bandages, however the bindings were layered with flakes of blood. I warily examined my red crusted fingers before rubbing them together. In doing so however I ended up unlocking the foul aroma of the blood, which caused me to wretch in my seat. “I need medical attention.” I thought, absentmindedly wiping my hands on the mattress.

              No nurses were around. I wondered if they had left me for good, or were simply doing things they felt were more urgent. From somewhere far off I heard some distant rumbling coming from beyond the passage. As it got closer, I could identify the angry squabbling of elder Grimlars, each trying to talk louder than the next. I assumed they were simply passing by, however the sound grew louder and louder until finally a furious mob of Grimlars swarmed my bed within seconds.

              As if only now noticing me, they all fell silent, and glared at me judgmentally. If the enclosure could have gotten any colder, it would have, now that the leader of the pack stepped forward. Standing just at the foot of my bed was the headmaster of the concentration camp: Caterwaul Lorenzo.

Caterwaul Lorenzo was an incredibly short wrinkled man, with only a few strands of white hair left on his spotted flaky scalp. Sculpted onto his face was a crooked nose and eyes that seemed much too big and watery for the pupils inside of them. It was a disgusting thing watching him frown. You could almost hear every wrinkle on his face crunch as they sagged down, until he was staring at you with an expression of pure disgust. His old and used up voice was loud and without tone.

              “Jacob Ofpacis?” he boomed, looking hardly interested. I nodded quickly and bleated a quiet response. I’ve never talked to this man in all my life! What could he possibly want with me? Scrunching his nose slightly, The Caterwaul considered my name with a scowl.

              “As I understand it congratulations are in order,” he said in a quieter tone. Waving his hand, A thick cloud of water vapour suddenly condensed to one side of him. Much to my amazement, a series of moving images lit up the condensation, projecting and displaying every moment where I had used anti-magic within the forest. First it was Preston falling on the mountain top, then it was my kill of the himathor. Then it was defending Preston from Gregor. Finally it was me battling the gauntlet. The images were so realistic I very nearly started shaking from the memories. Keeping the cloud intact, the Caterwaul took a single step forward.
              “
However
!” he bellowed, very nearly knocking me out of bed. “There is one point of interest that I would like more information on.” Throwing an arm towards the cloud, I watched as another scene lit up on the flat surface. From above, I watched as my shaking comatose body from days ago melted away every snowflake that tried to land on it. With a flick of the Caterwaul’s wrist the image dissipated into the air. “Now then... Jacob,” he said before pausing for. “Developing abnormally strong sickness before anti-magic is first performed, happens to be quite a normal thing.” He lifted back his lips showing sharpened yellowed teeth. It took me a moment to realize that he was trying to give me a sympathetic smile. Not even a quarter of a second after I had realized this, Caterwaul Lorenzo drooped into a deep scowl and furrowed his brow as if there was a bad taste in his mouth.  “In your case, the sickness you developed was strange, even by strange standards.”

              “Oh,” I responded lamely, attempting to break the intruding silence. The Caterwaul scoffed.

              “Oh Indeed,” he responded with a suspicious edge to his voice. “A typical example of a first-time warlock falling sick, would be for water to fizz slightly when placed on his forehead. You on the other hand, were melting snow more than a meteraway from your body.” I chuckled nervously, hiding my sweaty hands under the duvet covers.

              “I’m very sorry sir--I mean, Caterwaul sir, But I’m afraid I don’t--”
              “You don’t what?” he interrupted, folding his arms behind his back. “You don’t see my logic?” He jabbed an accusing finger at me. “I’m saying, that it’s entirely possible something more than just anti-magic is at work here.” With another sickening crunch, Caterwaul Lorenzo frowned again, and spoke in a voice almost suitable for a public conversation “I hope with all health that this is just testament to the might of the Grimlars and not an elaborate scheme to bluff through the examinations. Our mighty legion has no place for filth riddled cheaters.” The elders surrounding Caterwaul Lorenzo all trumpeted in agreement, however this was immediately cut off by a series of taps echoing off in the distance.

Very gradually, the group surrounding me parted, as in stepped
the
, Professor Wenchenberg,  who looked both exhausted and thoroughly relieved. He winked discretely before scratching his eyes and turning his attention to the other elders beside him.

              “Ah, Professor. It’s good to see you,” the Caterwaul mumbled, looking not at all pleased to see him.

Professor Wenchenberg smiled graciously but didn’t say anything.

“With no offense intended Wenchenberg, you’re not needed here. If something is troubling you I request you see me about it later,” Caterwaul Lorenzo insisted, politely trying to shove him off to one side. The professor did not move.

              “My apologies for my presence Caterwaul, however as the master of distortion anti-magic for this camp, I feel I have reservations to analyze young Jacob and his potential.” The Caterwaul lifted an eyebrow in exasperation and exhaled sharply.

              “Very well,” he agreed, looking highly irritated. “But you must keep quiet. Do you think you can find it in your abilities to be silent for a few minutes?” Professor Wenchenberg thought about this for a second.

“I find that dilemmas like this can oftentimes be a trifle wordy. Maybe it might even be a blessing not to talk during a procedure such as this. Perhaps I could even-”

              “
OH GOOD
. I’m glad you will be keeping quiet as of
now
,” Caterwaul Lorenzo interrupted loudly. Much to his relief, the professor stopped talking at once and politely placed his hands on his front. The Caterwaul turned his attention back to the bed and almost looked disappointed to see me still there. “There are many different paths for many different people Jacob Ofpacis,” the Caterwaul began, sounding as though he had given this speech too many times. “Some are short and go nowhere of interest, whereas the path the Grimlars take, follow along mountains of gold, fountains of power, and life longer than any Ickle-Bit could ever imagine. Which path do you see yourself taking, Jacob Ofpacis?” Caterwaul Lorenzo asked, lazily examining his twisted nails.

              “I see myself taking a long path Caterwaul sir,” I replied bluntly. Caterwaul Lorenzo nodded in agreement.

              “I will now ask you to perform a single anti-magical test. Because of the outstanding fever you developed, I do
believe
an outstanding test is fitting for your character. If you pass this test, you will be promoted to the first tier of the trainees and become one of the Pronounced, no questions asked.” The Caterwaul sneered. “If you should fail however, I feel a more in depth investigation of your performance might be in order.” The Caterwaul shrugged. “Of course, You can’t possibly fail due to this ‘uncompromisable power,’ I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Hold it,” a sly voice came from the back of the crowd. Unsurprisingly, it was Gregor. I hadn’t even noticed him due to the fact that he held himself exactly like the other elders did. He grinned idiotically at the thought of being included in the group before turning to address the elders. “As someone who has witnessed Jacob’s fever in person, I can easily say that this was not natural. By default, that means that he must have cheated.” I stared at Gregor in disbelief. Why on earth would he accuse me of cheating after I had helped him fight the Gauntlet?”

“Perhaps he feels threatened.” Umber mused from a faraway corner in my mind. “Or maybe he wants revenge for everything you said to him back in The Forest.” Caterwaul Lorenzo brought a palm to his forehead and sighed deeply.

“Gregor Tyrannus, this situation does not concern you in the slightest.” The Caterwaul’s voice cracked from the effort needed to keep himself calm.

Gregor ignored this and continued to speak. “But the obvious problem is that, we have no evidence to suspect the lowly Jacob of cheating. That’s where I come in!”

“No. That’s where you quiet down,” the Caterwaul growled, flushing a deadly shade of purple.

This too was unwisely ignored by Gregor. “Today, you will see an amazing feat of kinetic anti-magic, performed by none other than me! Gregor Tyrannus! I will be exploring Jacob’s memories to provide evidence once and for all, that Jacob has cheated.” Gregor bounded forward, quivering with anticipation. His eyes flashed fluoride green and with hardly a word of protest I was submersed in his kinetic anti-magic.