Authors: L. Jagi Lamplighter
Tags: #fantasy, #Teen & Young Adult, #Fantasy & Scary Stories, #Children's eBooks, #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery, #Fantasy & Magic, #Children's Books
Wrath coursed through her. Rachel glared at the transformed math tutor. Her fingers curled into fists. In a burst of anger, she pursed her lips and whistled. Pain flared, blinding her briefly. Yet, she succeeded. Blue sparkles swept through the air and danced around the dragon. Her enchantment was weak. It only held the great beast motionless for less than a second before it tossed its horned head and shrugged off two more golden bonds.
An instant was all the dean needed.
“
Muria! Muria! Muria!
” Dean Moth shouted, free to release her restraining cantrip and conjure. Three times, she drew her hand down, fingertips pressed together. Above her head, her golden eagle cawed and fanned its wings. The undersides of its outer flight feathers were silver and glittered in the sunlight.
A bolt of lightning woke into existence, striking the dragon, who screamed in pain and outrage. Thunder ripped the air, which sizzled and smelt of ozone. Rachel gawked, tremendously impressed. Conjuring electricity was extraordinarily difficult.
The dragon’s limbs jerked randomly. It howled in pain.
After the lightning, crackling white fire traced with gold struck the beast. Rachel gasped. Beside her, Gaius’s jaw dropped. They glanced at each other, shrugging. Neither of them had ever heard of anyone conjuring Eternal Flame. The dragon screeched, a horrendous, shrill sound. Its flesh scorched.
“That’s odd.” Gaius’s brows drew together nervously. “Didn’t the dean say the Word of Becoming three times?”
A
whistling
made them look up. A meteor plunged toward the earth, its flaming tail burning behind it. Gaius scooped Rachel into his arms and bolted into the woods.
Rachel curled against him. She could feel his muscles straining, his heart thundering in his chest. She clung to him, her arms around his neck, and felt simultaneously terrified, embarrassed, and pleased. Over his shoulder, she could see the duel. The dragon looked up an instant before the meteor smashed it to the ground.
Then the shock wave hit.
The force of it lifted Gaius and threw the two of them five yards across the forest floor. He tried to hold onto her, but Rachel flew free of his arms. As the ground rushed at her, she ducked her head and somersaulted, rolling across the dry leaves. Rocks stuck into her back, jarring her spine. It hurt so very, very much, but she kept rolling. When she came up onto her feet, Gaius was lying on his stomach, spitting out dirt and leaves.
Behind them, the great black dragon lay splayed beneath the steaming fallen rock, twitching. As they watched, it shimmered and turned back into an unconscious woman, one leg under the meteor. Untying the belt that had held her to the tree, the dean moved her hands rapidly, shouting out cantrip after cantrip. Golden bands, and sparkles of three different shades of blue encircled the math tutor. Then, Dean Moth collapsed, falling to her knees, panting.
Other tutors arrived, surrounding the unconscious Dr. Mordeau and adding additional restraints.
Rachel and Gaius rose unsteadily to their feet. They took a few ragged breaths and brushed pine needles off their clothing. Gaius took an oak leaf out of Rachel’s hair. To the south, through the trees, Siggy, the princess, and Joy came tumbling out of Drake Hall.
Above them, Lucky darted joyously through the air.
“I’ll be right back!” Rachel shouted to Gaius and ran to meet them.
“Are you lot all right?” she cried upon reaching them. Then, she leaned over and panted, her whole body aching.
The princess’s face was almost gray, but she gave Rachel a shaky smile. “I am not at my best, but I’ll do.”
“The princess saved my life!” cried Joy, jumped up and down. She repeatedly hugged Nastasia, which did nothing to improve the princess’s paleness. “She’s a heroine! A real heroine! Can you believe it!”
“I could ’a taken him,” yawned Siggy, who was cleaning his blade. Then, he added sheepishly, “if I hadn’t been hanging upside down. Did you see Dread summon up that water thing? It was enormous!”
“What happened?” asked Rachel.
“Some Indian guy showed up and spoke to it sternly,” replied Siggy.
“Very sternly,” added Lucky. He and Siggy nodded their heads in unison.
“Did that do anything?” asked Rachel.
“Eventually.” Siggy shrugged and sheathed his knife. “I’m off to the infirmary to check on my G.F. Who’s with me?”
Nastasia and Joy followed him, with Joy helping the fatigued princess. Rachel turned back to check on Gaius. He was no longer where she had left him. Instead, he had gone to meet Nighthawk, Von Dread, and Locke, as they emerged from Drake Hall. Locke’s arm was in a sling. Gaius fell in step with the others, who were deep in conversation.
Flute music played as Nurse Moth floated by on Rachel’s broom. Green healing sparks swirled from the nurse’s silver instrument. Tiny emerald glints danced around Rachel, causing a tingling at her cheek, her ear, her back, her side, her leg and other places she had not even realized were injured. The more they tingled, the less she ached. Rachel breathed a grateful sigh of relief.
The nurse moved on, helping others. Rachel glanced around her. Across the campus, the fighting had stopped. The proctors moved purposefully, gathering the glassy-eyed students and leading them toward the Watch Tower—presumably to meet the Agents the dean had summoned, who would be able to remove the geases. Most of the students had been herded into Roanoke Hall, but those with the Brotherhood of the Hart had joined the tutors who were pouring out onto the lawn and splitting into groups. Some helped the wounded make their way to the infirmary. Others were cleaning up the mess: dissolving magical vines, freeing victims trapped by Glepnir Bonds, shooing conjurations off of the commons, and other tasks required to help the campus return to normal.
As Rachel watched all this, a tawny motion out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Atop the head of the sleeping stone lion to the left of the entrance to Drake Hall sat Kitten’s familiar, its golden eyes bright. It stared steadily upward, at a place above Rachel’s head. Glancing up, Rachel saw an empty tree branch. She thought back a moment.
A huge black raven with eyes of crimson gazed down at the Lion, but when Rachel looked upward, it turned and fixed its eyes on her instead.
A frisson of awe and fear ran down her spine.
But even as she shivered, a slight smile touched her lips. Wasn’t this where it had all began—with the Raven and the Lion?
Had that only been five days ago?
How much she had changed in such an amazingly short period of time.
“Rachel!” Gaius came running over to where she stood. “It looks like everyone lived. Everyone who your princess’s vision said would die. Do you know what this means?”
“What?” she asked wide-eyed and eager.
Catching her about the waist, he lifted her into the air and swung her around and around, shouting: “We won!”
The End.
Thank you to Mark Whipple, John C. Wright, and William E. Burns, III who breathed the life into the original story.
To Virginia Johnson and Erin Furby, who helped iron out the bumps, and to my sons, Orville and Justinian for playing along and particularly to Juss, for wearing a lightning imp under his cat.
To Erin Furby, Ginger Kenny, Carman Finestra, Anne-Marie Droege, Cherry Vanderbeke, Sue Sims, Katherine Peterson, Laura Taylor, Emily Leverett, Merry Muhsman, Heidi Schrock, and Von Long for slogging their way through the early drafts, and, in particular, thank you again, to Carman, Cherry, Sue and Stephanie King for correcting some of my Americanisms.
To Anna “Firtree” MacDonald, for making it readable, and to Danielle Ackley-McPhail for believing in me.
To Dan Lawlis, for being a friend first and then the perfect artist and to my dauntless husband, John C. Wright, Esq., for taking the time to draw.
To my brother, Law Lamplighter, who listened, and to my mother, Jane Lamplighter, for making dinner on Thursdays, so I could write.
L. Jagi Lamplighter
is also the author of the
Prospero’s Daughter
series:
Prospero Lost
,
Prospero In Hell
, and
Prospero Regained
. She is an assistant editor with the Bad-Ass Faeries Anthologies, and she maintains a weekly blog on writing called Wright’s Writing Corner. When not writing, she switches to her secret identity as wife and stay-home mom in Centreville, VA, where she lives with her dashing husband, author John C. Wright, and their four darling children, Orville, Ping-Ping, Roland Wilbur, and Justinian Oberon.
Her website is:
http://ljagilamplighter.com
Her blog is at:
http://arhyalon.livejournal.com
On Twitter:
@lampwright4
Mark A. Whipple
grew up in Croton-on-Hudson, which is not far from Roanoke Island. He then attended St. John’s College in Annapolis, the mundane sister school to Roanoke Academy. Until recently, he has spent his free time, when not busy torturing Rachel Griffin, protecting the world from video game threats. Now, however, he volunteers with Stillbrave, a charity devoted to helping the families of children with cancer.