The Alchemists Academy Book 2: Elemental Explosions (7 page)

Wirt could believe it. As he watched, the unicorn that had reared headed back to the herd and started to fight with another of the creatures, the two horse-like beasts using their horns to fence with one another. After a few seconds of that, the unicorn that had been with the herd ran clear and headed for the other side of the field. It had a lengthy cut down one flank. Wirt looked around him. The girls who had previously seemed so excited to be working with unicorns suddenly looked a lot less happy about it.

“It seems like we’re just in time,” Sir Percival said. “It is getting near the breeding season, you see, and the young males can fight to the death if we let them. We need to separate them out from the herd and move them off into other fields.”

Wirt couldn’t help another look at the field. The first unicorn was rearing again, showing off that vicious looking horn. It had a dark smear of blood on it. “Um… does that mean we have to go in there?”

“Of course it does,” Sir Percival said, sliding off his massive backpack. “What did you think we would be doing out here? Now, does anybody among you know how to use a lasso?”

Nobody did, prompting a certain amount of muttering from the knight about the things they taught children these days, followed by what seemed to Wirt to be a very short demonstration of how you were meant to use one. That done, Sir Percival handed them each a lasso and told them to get in the field.

“Remember,” he said, “the key thing is not to let them see any weakness.”

They went in, mostly very reluctantly. Even Wirt wasn’t quick to climb over the low dry-stone wall that surrounded the field, while several of the others seemed to be doing their best to hide behind one another. They crept forward as a group, and frankly, Wirt suspected that the only thing keeping them from running out of the field was the presence of Sir Percival at the back of them.

“Oh, this is silly,” Alana said, moving forward from the group. “It shouldn’t be dangerous if we just work together.”

She headed for the nearest unicorn, which happened to be the big stallion that had just seen off a rival. Gathering up her lasso, she whirled it around her head once, and then threw it. It sailed through the air sweetly, landing over the creature’s golden horn and cinching tight. Unfortunately, that left Alana trying to control the creature alone. So when the unicorn reared, she was dragged forward, stumbling in the mud of the field.

            The key thing, as Sir Percival had said, was not to let them see weakness. Well, the stallion could see it now. Alana was practically helpless. Almost as fast as Wirt could blink, the unicorn lowered its horn and charged.

            Several students tried to ready their lassos, but they didn’t know enough about what they were doing to do so quickly. Sir Percival was right at the back of the group, where he couldn’t do anything, and Alana didn’t have a solid enough footing to throw herself aside. If she didn’t get skewered, she would almost certainly be trampled.

            And then it seemed obvious to Wirt what he should do. He reached out with his will, not for the unicorn, but for the land beneath its feet. He thought about softness, and wetness. He thought about how it had felt when he had been falling from the tree with Ms. Burns. He raised one hand.

            The unicorn disappeared from sight, splashing down into the trough that had opened up beneath its feet. It whinnied and thrashed, but before it could climb out, Sir Percival and half a dozen of the class had lassoed it, holding it firmly. As they started to wrestle it from the field, Wirt went over to Alana, helping her up.

            “Are you okay?” he asked.

            Alana nodded, though she didn’t seem very certain of it. She looked at the pond, which was already starting to close up. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

            “Yes.”

            Alana kissed him on both cheeks then, and Wirt could feel his heart race. It was, he felt, almost worth having to deal with unicorns for.

            “Thank you,” Alana said.

            Wirt nodded, though he didn’t dare say anything.

            “You’re worried about what Spencer will think, aren’t you?” Alana asked. “I know he’s your friend. He’s
my
friend, but him and me… we’re done. I might have followed him all the way to the academy, but his family doesn’t want me dating him. This is a new year, Wirt. A new start. And I can do what I want.”

            Wirt nodded. “I know. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

            Alana smiled. “Me too.”

            Wirt noticed that he still had hold of Alana’s hand from where he’d helped her up. He didn’t let go. Neither did Alana. At least, not until Sir Percival called them over and demanded to know which of them had done the spell.

            “Me, Sir Percival,” Wirt admitted. Knowing the knight, he would probably be upset about the damage to the natural environment, and Wirt didn’t want any trouble for Alana.

            “Wonderful,” Sir Percival said, clapping him on the back. “Now, do you think you can do it again? I haven’t seen such an efficient way of dealing with unicorns in years!”

Chapter 7

I
t was late by the time they got back from rounding up the unicorns, but there wasn’t time to change or head to the cafeteria, because Ms. Lake met them at the entrance to the tree, with instructions that they should head up to the solarium. Wirt couldn’t help feeling a note of tension at that. After all, the last time he had been there, it had been so that Ender Paine could announce that the chalice of life was missing. Had something equally serious happened while they had been away?

            Wirt tried to ask Ms. Lake, but the teacher didn’t say anything as she led them up to the solarium. There, Wirt found his fellow second year students, about thirty of them in total, waiting. The headmaster was there too, along with Ms. Burns, Mr. Fowler and a few other members of the academy’s staff.

            Ender Paine waited until Wirt and the others were all inside the room before beginning, snapping his fingers in a way that echoed around the solarium’s plant-filled interior. At once, a small begonia next to him transformed into a flip chart.

            “Now that we are all here,” Ender Paine said, with just a hint of reproach that seemed out of place given that the students were only late because of a timetabled lesson, “I will begin.”

            He nodded to a spot behind Wirt and the others, and Wirt looked round to see a group of students entering the room via the transport tubes. There were fourteen of them. They were all older than Wirt, and they all seemed a lot more confident because they were older, as though they expected… no,
demanded
respect from the students around them. They were dressed in a variety of different ways, from deep black robes to elegant court dresses and expensive looking suits, but they all wore a golden scarf, bearing an image of the academy’s tree as well as a dragon flying out of the sun. Along with the other students, Wirt made way for them as they strode towards the front of the solarium, lining up on either side of Ender Paine.

            Wirt could already hear the whispers around him from the other students.

            “It’s the elite class,” one girl whispered, while her neighbor nudged her and pointed at the scarves.

            “Do you think I’ll get one of those one day?”

            “They’re hardly ever here,” the first girl said. “They’re usually busy studying off campus.”

            Ender Paine held up his hand for silence, and as usual, he got it.

            “As you can see, the students of our school’s elite class stand before you. Students who have proven their skills. Students who are in the process of learning the deepest things the academy has to teach. Students who represent the very best that the academy has to offer.”

            That was certainly a change from the way that the headmaster normally talked about students. Generally, he seemed to treat them as a necessary inconvenience that he had to put up with when running the school.

            “Next year,” Ender Paine continued, “some of you will fill the fourteen places that exist in this elite class. Personally, of course, I believe that none of you deserve it and that you should all have your brains rented out for storage space, but those are the school rules, and we will be following them.”

            A ripple of excitement went around the hall. Apparently, getting into the elite group was a big deal for most of the students. But then, from what Spencer had said earlier, it meant the difference between being stuck with an ordinary life as a lesser magical practitioner somewhere, and getting the very best jobs. Ordinarily, Wirt wouldn’t have cared about that sort of thing. He would have seen the whole set up as some silly little private club. But somehow, he felt that it was more than that. Far more.

            Ender Paine started to introduce the students to each side of him, explaining where they were currently learning and what they were doing there. Wirt didn’t know what was more impressive, some of the things they were working on, or the fact that the headmaster bothered to remember who they were.

            Actually, there was no contest there, but only because some of the projects the students were engaged in were extremely impressive. Apparently, the school’s approach to the third year was to home in on each student’s individual talents, finding placements where they could learn one on one from some of the most respected names in the magical field. Since those names were almost invariably Alchemists Academy trained themselves, they were more than happy to have another Alchemists Academy alumni join them.

            One student was working with someone called Argor the Magesmith, who specialized in making items of power. Another was engaged in research on some complex business-magic techniques that Wirt didn’t grasp, but which Spencer would undoubtedly be in awe of. A third was using battle magic to help in a small war in one of the furthest of the hundred kingdoms, while others were already serving as advisors to royalty, or solving impossible sounding problems.

            All in all, entry to their elite group sounded like it was a passport to the sort of life Wirt could never have dreamed of leading. Certainly, it sounded like a way to learn things that were far beyond even what they were already doing at the school. Did he want that, though? Wirt was surprised to find that he did. When he had first come to the school, his only concern had been getting home, but now… what was there to go back for, when compared with this?

            Ender Paine snapped his fingers again, and the first sheet of the flip chart turned over. A ghostly hand appeared in midair, flames seeming to burn at its fingertips, and as the headmaster spoke, it moved across the board, searing key points into it.

            “By now, you will all be wondering how you get into the elite group. Most of you will not. There are fourteen spots, and fourteen only. No exceptions. No second chances.”

Ender Paine looked over at Ms. Lake. “There are those who say that creates an unnatural atmosphere of mistrust and competition in the school. I disagree. You should get used to the fact that friendship should never come before power. Magic is an unforgiving business. If you are not up to the privilege being offered to you, I see no reason to make it easy for you.”

            Wirt looked up at the headmaster and knew that Ender Paine was serious. Not least because his ghostly hand had just written “fourteen places
only
” on the board.

            Ender Paine continued once he had let that sink in. “To determine which fourteen of you are the least incompetent, and will therefore go through to the elite class, we will use a combination of factors. Some of you will be less than happy to know that we are already assessing you, and that what you have done so far in your school career counts towards our assessment.”

            Was it an accident that his gaze flickered to Wirt there?

            “We will be using your grades as one benchmark,” the hand wrote the word “grades” in large letters, “but it is only one component. We will also use your performance in special assignments to weed out those who are merely good at reading books from those with actual talent.”