Eighth Fire

CHRONICLES OF A MAGI: BOOK
II

Gene Curtis

Edited by Rick den Haan

Copyright © 2011 by Gene
Curtis
[Smashwords Edition]

www.GeneCurtis.com

CHAPTER ONE

The Wedding

The desert smelled delicious, like a feast
for kings. Mark looked around. Mrs. Shadowitz wasn’t kidding when
she said a Magi wedding was one humdinger of a party. It seemed to
him that large numbers of people from all the mountains were there
as well as non-Magi guests. There was hardly enough room to move
around in the six square miles of open desert surrounding The
Seventh Mountain. And talk about food, hundreds of people had shown
up with the makings for some pretty fine dishes. His mom even
brought fixings for more than two hundred servings of her fabulous
steak fingers.

He leaned his head back and took in another
long, tantalizing sniff. “I smell turkey. Someone’s cooking turkey
and it smells great!”

Chenoa, standing next to him, closed her eyes
and took in a long sniff. “Fried chicken.” She smelled the air
again and sighed.

Cap’n Ben threw his arms up and exclaimed; “I
smell french-fries. Let me at ‘em.”

James grinned and said, “I knew I was going
to like this school.”

James, Mark’s older, adopted brother and
great, great, great, great grandson of AlHufus Diefenderfer had
been approved to attend The Seventh Mountain last year. James had
not been a direct candidate since he hadn’t been recommended by
anyone. Mr. Diefenderfer would have recommended him had he not been
trapped in the labyrinth when the time came. As it happened, Mark’s
counselor had studied James at the same time he studied Mark since
the brothers were so close, though three years late, James was
approved to attend this school for Magi training.

James had been with Mark every step of the
way as his brother followed mystical clues that enabled him to
discover an ancient staff his four greats grandfather, Joseph Young
had left for him. Mr. Young had also left Mark a farm in Virginia
and a stock portfolio worth a half-billion dollars. One of the most
astonishing things was that Mr. Young and Mr. Diefenderfer were
still alive, best friends with each other and both were members of
the Council of Elders here at the school.

James so much wanted to be a Magi, like his
younger brother. Magi had super abilities. He’d seen his brother in
a sword fight last year where he laid waste to a squad of animated
snow monsters in just a few seconds. Aaron’s Grasp, something that
all students learned here, was simply amazing: being able to carry
almost anything invisibly. And being a warrior trained to fight the
most malicious of evil things appealed to him deep in his soul.

A voice from behind the group said, “Care for
a swim?” Before the sentence was finished, a wool blanket fell over
Mark’s head. He didn’t have to look to see who had spoken; he knew
the voice and the attitude. It was Ricky Barns.

Immediately, Mark’s mind was filled with
rage, remembering last year’s attack where he was tackled, rolled
up in a blanket and then thrown into the moat. He almost drowned in
that incident and right now he’d like nothing better than to roll
Ricky Barns up in the blanket draped over his head and toss him
into the moat, just to let him see how it felt.

Mark pulled the blanket off his head and held
it up to look at it. He didn’t say a word before draping the
blanket over his shoulder. He started walking off through the crowd
without replying to Ricky.

Ricky said, “Slone’s right. You are a
coward.”

Mark kept walking and said, “Thanks for the
blanket.”

Ricky ran up behind him, grabbed his shoulder
and spun him around. “You and me! Right here, right now!”

“Ricky, you really are an idiot. This is a
party. People are here to celebrate Shana and Gerod’s wedding, have
fun and enjoy themselves. Only an idiot would want to spoil a good
time. Besides, I know you’re not alone. You won’t fight me one on
one. You’re the coward.”

“You’re wrong. Slone says I can take you and
I think you need to be taken down a notch or two. You don’t scare
me. I’m on to your tricks.”

Mark tossed the blanket over Ricky’s
shoulder. “There’s your security blanket back. I think you need
it.”

Ricky’s lips tightened, his eyes widened and
he sucked in a hard breath while drawing back to take a swing at
Mark.

Mr. Thorpe grabbed Ricky’s fist. “If you boys
want a competition, we have plenty to choose from, but there’ll be
no fighting. If you still want to fight when you get back to
school, that’s fine. I’d like to watch. I could do with a good
laugh.”

Mr. Thorpe was one teacher Mark would prefer
to avoid when he could and it was no secret Mr. Thorpe had no great
liking for him either. Last year he had even referred to Mark as
one of Tim’s “little brats” right in front of Mark and loud enough
for the whole world to hear. Mr. Thorpe showed contempt for anyone
below his station and groveling respect to anyone above it. And
there weren’t many above him since he had been a member of the
Council of Elders until recently; the least senior member, but a
member none-the-less. He graciously stepped down to allow Joseph
Young, a former senior member thought lost to the labyrinth, to
rejoin on his return.

Mark said, “Sir, I had no intention—”

Mr. Thorpe cut him off. Even in a low tone,
his tremendously bassy voice penetrated Mark to the core.
“Intentions have no substance. It is action that has consequence.
Am I clear?”

Mark nodded his head. “Yes sir.”

Ricky said, “This isn’t over.”

Ricky winced. It was obvious that Mr. Thorpe
had squeezed his fist.

“If you’re involved in a fight at this
reception, don’t bother showing up for orientation.” He let go of
Ricky’s fist and walked off.

Mark didn’t acknowledge the glare Ricky was
beaming at him. He just turned and walked away. Chenoa, James and
Cap’n Ben walked next to him.

The wedding itself had been a solemn affair.
The school grounds around The Island had filled up fast. Everyone
that arrived early enough staked out positions on the ground near
The Island. Those that arrived later and couldn’t get close enough
to see well were allowed to watch from the bleachers or from a
balcony area on whichever level of the school they chose.

Shana looked very much the bride in her
bright white gown and veil. She carried a bouquet with an emerald
green ribbon and all of the bridesmaids were dressed in emerald
green evening gowns. Gerod was towered over by his best friend and
best man, Tim. They both wore black tuxedos. Gerod wore a
multi-colored striped bowtie and Tim wore an emerald green one.
Mrs. Shadowitz officiated wearing a pale orange gown. It seemed
everyone in the ceremony was wearing tribe colors in one way or
another.

No sooner had Mrs. Shadowitz said the words,
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” than a squadron of MIGs roared
over the crowd in the missing man formation. Gerod looked up, shook
his head, grinned and waved. It was his squadron giving the
salute.

Those not already on the school grounds began
making their way there. The reception was supposed to be the
equivalent of Tent Fest, a seven day medieval style festival,
rolled into a non-stop, three day, two night party.

It wasn’t long after the aerial salute that
Tim’s tennis shoe shaped balloon touched down on top of The Island
where the ceremony had been held. The newlywed couple climbed
aboard along with Tim. The balloon lifted off and everybody
cheered.

The balloon began flying low over the crowd
now, allowing everyone to shout their congratulations to the
newlyweds as it passed overhead. Everyone preparing food was at one
of many outdoor grills set up on the grounds near the school’s main
entrance and they were beginning to bring their dishes to a sea of
tables nearby. The aromas filling the air were heavenly.

Chenoa spotted Nick and Jamal among the
people swarming the tables to check out the food. She waved and
yelled, “Hey Nick! Jamal!”

Both boys looked up, grinned and waved
back.

They got together, filled their plates and
found a spot not too far away to sit.

Cap’n Ben pulled a long french-fry from his
plate and shoved it into his mouth before asking, “Why on earth did
Ricky want to fight you?”

Mark dug his fork into the pile of cranberry
sauce, “That’s the way he is. When I first met him, he, Ralph
Lawrence and
Keith Richards had ganged up on
Nick.” Mark nodded his head toward Nick. “Ever since then, it’s
been a confrontation every time we meet. They joined up with Slone
and you know the rest.”

“It sounds to me like you need to teach them
a lesson.”

Chenoa said, “We tried that last year. It
just kept getting worse. I’m sure that’s why Slone pushed Mark into
the labyrinth.”

Mark shook his head, “He didn’t push me
exactly. He pushed Ralph Lawrence into me and that knocked me
through the opening.”

Chenoa countered, “He knew exactly what he
was doing and if you ask me, he’s the one that put Ricky up to
fighting you. He’s up to something.”

Nick swallowed and said, “I agree. You can’t
trust any of them.”

Jamal turned his plate so the meat was
directly in front of him. “You have to keep your guard up around
those guys.”

Cap’n Ben said, “You think he was trying to
bait you into a fight so you’d get kicked out of school?”

Mark said, “I don’t think Ricky is that
smart, but Slone certainly is, and that’s Slone’s style, to get
someone else to do the dirty work for him.”

Chenoa frowned and looked rather disgusted,
“Isn’t this supposed to be a party? Can we talk about something
else?”

Cap’n Ben grinned and rubbed his chin, “Let
me see...What’s the one thing we all enjoy talking about? It
couldn’t be flags, could it? What say after we eat we head over to
The Island? They won’t take the bridge over the moat down until
tomorrow.”

Mark said, “Sounds like a plan.”

By eight fifty p.m. the group had explored
The Island in detail, participated in a few competitions and eaten
three more meals. They were just settling in to watch the fireworks
when the entire Council of Elders appeared behind them. Mrs.
Shadowitz said, “These are whom you seek.”

Mark turned around, as did the rest of the
group, to see who had spoken. They stood when they saw who it was.
A man in a black cloak with no trim spoke. Mark didn’t recognize
him. “Mark Young, James Young, Joel O’Ham, Chenoa Day, Nikola
Poparov, Jamal Terfa...You all are under arrest pending this
investigation. Surrender your weapons.”

Mark said, “Arrest? Investigation?
Investigation of—”

Mrs. Shadowitz said, “The nature of the
investigation will be explained to you all in due course. We need
you to accompany us to the school.”

Mark looked at Joseph Young, his great,
great, great, great grandfather and newly restored member of the
Council of Elders. Mr. Young said, “It is best to wait before your
questions are answered. This matter is most serious.”

Mark said quickly, “What matter?”

The man in the cloak said to a group dressed
as he was and standing behind the Council of Elders, “Restrain
them.”

Mrs. Shadowitz said, “That will not be
necessary. Mark, you need to be quiet. Surrender your weapons and
come with us.”

Mark looked down, closed his eyes and nodded
his head.

Mrs. Shadowitz led the group past the newly
erected statue of Mark and his friends that commemorated the fact
that they had been pre-chosen, through the main entrance into The
Seventh Mountain, down the short hallway and into the main
accounting office of The Good Steward. The accountants had finished
work for the day and all the desks in the front room were vacant.
Mrs. Shadowitz said, “Have a seat at one of the desks and do not
talk to each other.”