Demon Accords 8: College Arcane (25 page)

“And me lad over there can handle a bunch of
both, but that’s not what he did, right? How do I know?”

“Because he never looked exhausted or even
tired,” Ryanne suddenly stated.

“Exactly, dear. He never used his own
reserves at all, did ye, lad?” Ashling asked, turning to me.

I shook my head.

“He borrowed it,” she said.

“Huh?” Britta asked, looking at the others
around her to see if anyone understood.

“So what do witches or even psychics do when
they want to use power? You all pull energy into yourselves from
whatever yer affinity is, right? Then you push it back out to do
yer will. And all yer lives you practice holding as much magic
essence as ye can, don’t ye, because it limits the works ye can
do?” she asked. The witches nodded back at her.

“But what if ye never took the energy to yer
core, to yer magical piggy bank. What if ye just passed it through
ye and put it to work? How would that be?”

“What, like when a circle leader takes power
from the circle and uses it?” Jael asked.

“Very much like that. Almost exactly, only
instead of yer sister witches pushing power at ye, ye pull it from
yer affinity and send it on its way at the same time.”

“But that would only be a trickle… It
wouldn’t amount to anything at all, would it?” Ryanne asked.

“And that’s the trick of it, deary. Ye got to
find enough of a source of power that matches your need. Tell me,
boy, what did ye use for the dirt beastie?” Ashling asked me.

I held up both hands on an imaginary steering
wheel and made driving motions.

“Ah, the cars?” Aunt Ash asked. I nodded.
“Clever lad. What he did was to borrow the power of the vehicles on
the roads around us. And being right in the middle of Burlington,
there are lots, now aren’t there?”

“How do you
borrow
the power of a
car?” Britta asked.

“Practice, dear, practice.
And a little from each. Everyone, close your eyes. That’s it. Now
extend your senses and
feel
outside these walls. If ye be having the ability
to cast afar, then do so. Or if not, just listen and feel,” my aunt
said. A truck rumbled by outside. “Feel that? A road tractor, so
powerful it shook the floor. The shaking of the floor is power to
be harnessed, as is the rolling of its mass, the vibrations of its
engines. Now, if ye were science types and ye were to measure the
motor output for each car me lad here borrowed from, I think ye’d
find that they all lost a little bit of oompf here and there.
Declan took all those wee little pieces of energy, blended them
together, and powered his beastie with it.”

“But that’s insanely complex. Why not just
one or two big trucks?” Michelle asked.

“Well, yes, except that what would be
happening to the trucks?”

“They would lose all their power?” Michelle
guessed.

“Just so. Right in the road. If it’s all ye
had, then so be it, especially for life and death, but that weren’t
the case here, now was it? So by taking wee bits and pieces, no one
was the wiser and no one was in danger. It just required a lot of
concentration and skill by the Crafter. Well done, lad, but yer
still in the doghouse and don’t be forgetting it.” She shook her
finger at me.

Erika looked like she was concentrating hard,
or maybe had gas—it was hard to tell with her, but she suddenly
exhaled loudly and then looked at my aunt in frustration. “You
can’t get any energy that way,” she said.

A strong wind blew up around the room before
swirling down into a tight little cyclone of spinning air that
swept up all the loose dirt I’d missed. The powerful dust devil
spun through the space between the class and Ashling, blowing hair
and papers around before rising up over the game model and
collapsing downward, dropping all the soil onto the landscape in a
puff of dust.

“
You
can’t… yet. I can,” Ashling said
into the silence and awe. “I borrowed that energy from the wind
outside what’s blowing fierce and I’m still fresh as a daisy. But
don’t be worrying about it. We’ll work on it next class, along with
your avatars, which I suggest you talk about now.”

The class did exactly that, breaking up into
groups and clusters. Some studied the landscape or handled the
avatar I had made. Others drew on paper or tablets. And almost all
of them asked questions of both my aunt and me. My paper ran out
long before the questions did, forcing me to use a borrowed tablet
to type out answers.

T.J. was showing a drawing to my aunt when I
approached her.

“Ye have to know that magic and technology
have a hard time co-existing, ye see?” my aunt was telling him.

“But Miss O’Carroll,
my
tech is different.
Maybe it’s part of my talent, but most of my work is pretty
tolerant of magic, and it’s not like anyone can cast a spell
directly on my creations,” he replied.

“If ye want to make one o’ your robot
thingies and put it to the test, then by all means. I think it a
grand idea. Jest don’t be surprised if some of the landscaping
spells muck it all up,” my aunt said, turning and catching sight of
me.

I had found some more paper in Caeco’s
supremely organized backpack, so I handed her my question.

Can we talk?

“Oh, I think that we should,” she said in an
ominous tone. T.J. backed away several steps before fleeing back to
the other kids, some of whom were watching us. Maybe they thought
she’d turn me into a frog or something. They didn’t know her very
well… her anger wouldn’t manifest in anything so mild.

“So, go ahead. Give me your brilliant excuses
for why ye would break yer word,” she said, arms crossed.

No excuses. I knew what was in that section
and I could either break a promise or drop out and never come back.
But I am very sorry.

“It was as bad as that, was it?” she asked,
her tone doubtful that anything could be that bad.

I was helpless. Utterly helpless and I
thought I was losing Caeco because I was so weak and slow compared
to him. He whispered stuff in my ears like I was his bitch. I
wanted to kill him. Thought about it. But I remembered Mom’s
book.

“Mind yer language,” she said as she read my
words, but her face softened just ever so slightly. “Ye could have
come home… or called? And how were ye knowing what was in that
section, eh?”

First week of college and I’m supposed to
flee home? My mother would be so proud. And I read the whole book
once, long before you gave it to me. I found it in your office when
I was like ten or something.

“You what?” she asked loud enough to make
half the remaining kids jump.

Old Mr. Grady came into the kitchen, mad
about something and cursing a lot. You sent me to your office,
probably so I wouldn’t hear his words. Mom’s book was under some
papers and I thought the writing looked like hers. I paged through
it, but the glyphs caught my eye so I mostly remembered them.

“And ye never mentioned a word of it when I
gave ye the book?” she asked, frowning.

I was so excited to get Mom’s grimoire and I
thought you might not let me have it if I told you I had seen it
before.

“That’s called lying by omission and it can
be jest as bad as the regular sort of lies,” she said, but her tone
wasn’t quite as dangerous.

I thought of just trying the glyphs from
memory.

She paled as she read that, a flash of real
fear flickering across her features.

“Oh, Declan, I really wish ye had called or
texted or something,” she said, her anger now dismay, which,
strangely, was a little worse.

I won’t use them.

“Oh lad, that’s easy to say, but they’re a
part of ye now. Ye might as well say ye won’t use yer feet,” she
said. “What will ye do if that behemoth wolf comes for ye
again?”

I’ll use magic.

“Just as bad. Maybe worse, don’t ye see?
First, yer likely to get tossed out on yer ear for using magic
against another student. Ye got away with it this morning because
Mrs. Velasquez saw him go for you in his beast shape. But as much
as she wants ye here, for whatever reason, if ye break the rules,
she’ll have no choice, will she? And how many times have I told ye
that using the Craft to solve yer problems is no solution at
all?”

Lots, but why does she want
me to stay?
Maybe a quick change of topic
would move us away from more dangerous things.

“I don’t know, lad, but she was mighty
persuasive, arguing on yer behalf. I’d think her a witch meself if
I didn’t know for sure she wasn’t. Which goes back to me point… ye
don’t need magic for solving yer problems. She sure doesn’t. What
have I always told ye?”

Only really serious stuff. Life and death
stuff.

“’Tis a truth. I’m still mad at ye for
breaking yer word, and I’ve me doubts about this looney bin. That
being said, I’m glad yer healing, though I kinda like this not
talking thing, boy. Could get used to ye not mouthing off all the
while,” she said.

“Now I’ve got to be ending me class and all,
so get yerself back to yer friends.”

Love you
, I wrote.

“Get on wit ye now,” she mock-growled,
turning and speaking to the class. “Okay, enough for tonight. We’ll
see what ye come up with next Monday, won’t we?”

I joined my group and Caeco smiled at me.
“Did you grovel well?”

Getting there. Not completely done yet,
though.

“Oh, I have complete faith in your ability to
grovel,” she laughed, the girls joining in.

“Oooooh, dude,” Mack said like she’d burned
me. I didn’t care. I still felt better than I had in days. Who knew
it would be so short lived.

Chapter 24

A cold hand clamped across my mouth woke me
instantly Tuesday morning. The color of the eyes that met mine was
so vivid that I could tell they were blue in the murky dark of
early morning. A finger rose to the beautiful face and made the
universal sign for silence. Tatiana Demidova was in my dorm room.
At… 5:34 a.m., if Mack’s ceiling projection clock was right.

I nodded, or at least tried to under that
steely grip. She got the point, letting go and backing away.
Another dark figure, larger and male-shaped, stood near the
door.

Throwing off my covers and sitting up, I
realized I was only wearing boxers. Before I could think to cover
myself, the slim pale hand was back, grabbing my wrist and pulling
me off the bed like the winch on my Land Cruiser. Clothes were
shoved my way, a pair of running shoes added to the pile, and then
I was standing in the hall, blinking under the florescent
lights.

Chris Gordon shut the door to my room and
grinned at me. Tanya stood next to him, studying my mostly
undressed body. “Get dressed. We have much work to do,” she said,
her Russian accent a touch heavier than I remembered.

I wanted to ask what the hell was going on,
but my jaw was still too stiff and sore. Tanya handed me an open
bottle of red Gatorade and I automatically took a sip.

“How’s your jaw?” Chris asked after I’d
swallowed.

I started to shake my head,
but suddenly realized the pain was gone. Experimentally, I opened
my jaw further. “Ah, better,” I said. Tanya made an
impatient
bottoms up
gesture for me to finish off the little drink. I chugged it
down. Queen vampire demands, I deliver.

“Now how do you feel?” Chris asked, grinning
as if he already knew.

“Pretty awesome. No… really awesome,” I
answered, stunned that it was true. Every ache, every pain was gone
and I felt like running a mile.

“We heard about the shit that went down.
Declan, we’re really sorry that all happened to you,” Chris
said.

His girlfriend was suddenly deep in my
personal space, looking at my face and eyes critically. I froze
solid. “That’s some bullshit training. We’re here to fix that,” she
said, only inches away. “But it is cold for you, yes? Put on your
clothes.”

I put them on—fast.

Then we were walking, down the hall and down
the stairs. Waving to the guards and heading into the dark cold
outside. “Follow us,” Chris said, still wearing a shit-eating grin.
Both uber-naturals took off at a slow, effortless jog. I copied
them and as soon as I had caught up, they sped up slightly, forcing
me to as well. No sooner was I up to speed than they did it again.
Pretty quickly, we were sprinting down the road, passing converted
industrial building after building as we turned corners and moved a
bit further from downtown. Art studios, architectural salvage,
non-profit home good recycle shops, music stores, martial arts
studios and, of course, restaurants. About three-quarters of a mile
from Arcane, we came to an old building, which looked unloved. No
good Vermonters had yet claimed it and renovated it into a new
life; instead, it had broken windows and graffiti-painted walls.
Tanya led us inside.