Insidious Winds (9 page)
Authors: Rain Oxford
“You read too many romance novels. I honestly feel
very little of anything when it is not the full moon. I do… like her presence,
though. The problem is that she frustrates me more often than not. She has too
many nosy friends, acts like I am arm candy most of the time, is too needy, and
is too pushy. I really cannot think of any quality of her personality that I
like.”
“She’s trying not to bug you,” I said.
“Only because I stopped sleeping with her on the full
moons until she changed.”
“Then why are you with her? That doesn’t sound like
love,” Darwin said.
“It is too difficult to explain. I feel more when I’m
with her and I want that.”
* * *
On the way to feed the kappa some cucumbers, I heard
Henry’s name and stopped. I was standing outside of Addison’s friend’s room and
her door was cracked. I started to move on until I heard Addison’s friend speak
again.
“He’s an asshole, he’s rude, and he only uses you for
sex.”
Addison sighed. “He can be a bastard sometimes, but
only when he’s frustrated. There’s another side to him. I can feel it. Even
when he’s ignoring me, I know he wants me with him. He wants me quiet, but he
wants me there.”
“What about you?”
“He pisses me off like no one else could. He also
acts like I’m helpless because my cat is smaller than his. When I’m not with
him, I get angry with his behavior or I miss the little half-smile he gives me
when he’s drawing. Then, when I see him again, I feel safe and appreciated. I
mean, he really appreciates me. I told him about a glass vase my mother made me
before she died and that I hated putting flowers in it because they always
withered and died. He made me glass flowers. He actually made them. I know he’s
not good for me, but I feel more alive when I’m with him. Besides, he’s been
much better about showing affection lately.”
“Are you sure it’s not just---”
“We didn’t even have sex this month,” Addison
interrupted. “I wasn’t feeling good, so he just wanted to cuddle and kiss for
three days. At first, I couldn’t stand him when the moon wasn’t full because I
felt like I was losing him every time. Now, I think we fight because it’s the
fastest way to get an emotional reaction out of him. He tries to show me
affection, but it feels like he’s not being himself with me… or maybe that I’m
not who he wants me to be. I prefer when we’re fighting because I know it’s me
he’s thinking about.”
I walked away then, feeling pretty guilty about
overhearing such a personal conversation. I listened because Henry was my
friend and I didn’t want him to get his heart broken, and I wouldn’t apologize
for that.
* * *
The next day, I went back to Professor Langril’s room
after dinner. I was early, but I didn’t think it mattered much on a Saturday. I
reached out to knock and froze. There was a voice; one I would recognize
anywhere.
I opened the door. Langril was standing over a large
iron cauldron in the middle of his floor with his hand outstretched. Blood
dripped from his wrist into the cauldron. After a moment, he pulled a cloth out
of his pocket and wiped the excess blood off. His wound was already healed.
“It’s rude to enter someone’s residence uninvited,”
he said without looking up from his task.
“Where is she?”
He indicated the cauldron. I closed the door and
approached the cauldron. Like the bowl Hunt usually had in his office, the
cauldron was filled with a silver liquid. Unlike in Hunt’s bowl, however, the
liquid was calm, creating what looked like a mirror. It wasn’t me that was
reflected back.
Astrid was in a dark, abandoned house that looked
like it had been through a fire. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. “Are you
okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine. I haven’t gotten to Krechea yet, though.
He has too many followers.” She glanced at Langril. “You need to be very
careful. I don’t know what Krechea has planned, but it’s not going to be good.”
“Have you seen Heather?” Langril asked her.
“In passing. She’s safe.” She looked back at me.
“I’ve been trying to contact you for months. You need to guard your thoughts,
watch what you say, and be wary of who you talk to. He’s got another plan to
get out of Dothra, but I don’t know what it is.”
“Why does he want out?”
“Wizards of Earth aren’t as powerful as those of
Dothra, but humans are numerous,” Langril answered for her. “If he can get the
keys and build an army of humans, he can take over the other worlds and be
unstoppable. He wants powerful followers and a vast supply of cannon fodder.”
“Devon, I have a plan. It’s going to take a month or
so, but I need your help.”
“I can be there as soon as Langril opens the door.
How do I find you?”
“No, you can’t come here. I need you to be there so
you can---” The rest of her sentence was cut off as the liquid in the bowl was
disturbed.
Langril shook his head when I looked at him.
“Incoming call.” His expression was of suspicion, but there was hope in his
eyes.
Instead of Heather appearing, as I knew Langril was
hoping for, it was the malevolent, inhuman face of Krechea. Langril pushed me
away from the cauldron. Simultaneously, yellowish-orange fire consumed
Langril’s hand and blue fire lit the surface of the silver liquid. After a
second, both went out.
Only in the following awkward silence, when the
professor leaned heavily against his desk, did I realize that he was hurt. More
specifically, his hands were. “What happened?” I asked. His skin was severely
burned.
“You were purified by the fire salamanders; that’s
what happened.”
“Yes, I know I was… wait, I did that? You got burned
from pushing me out of the way?”
“The elementals are not fond of my people. No one
from Dothra can touch you or even see into your mind unless you complete a
ritual to invoke the fire elementals. Since your human body can’t handle that,
have fun trying to touch your girlfriend.”
“That’s why Heather and Astrid can’t contact me?”
That must have been what happened in the shadow pass when the creature touched
me. “I can’t make a contract with Heather then.”
“You can, you just can’t touch her.”
“How do I get rid of it?”
“That depends. Why did they purify you?” he asked,
sitting in the chair at his desk. His skin was simultaneously charring and
healing. As the burned flesh blackened and flaked off, new skin was forming
underneath it.
“I don’t know. I just needed the sword. I didn’t know
what the purification meant.”
“Have you had any visions you did not invoke?” he
asked. I shook my head. “You said you promised that you would destroy the
tower. They must be trying to protect you until you fulfill your promise.” He
stood. “I’m going to teach you the only magic that can kill a pure wizard.”
“But I thought if you kill someone with magic, you
get theirs.”
“You will.”
“I don’t want it. I have enough with mine and
John’s.”
“If you kill Krechea and take his magic, you will never
need to worry about your heart again.”
I paused. “Can you make a potion that can break the
curse?”
“I can break it very easily, but not with a potion.
All magic comes at a price. The greater the magic, the greater the price.
You’re asking for a life, so you must give one in return. If you ever get to
the point where you’re ready to sacrifice a life for your own, I will help you.
Until then, you’ll have to settle for learning better magic. Stand in the
center of the room.”
“Shouldn’t we go somewhere else for this?” I asked.
He looked around his room and back at me. “Whatever
for? Now, teaching you earth magic was rather simple. This time, you will learn
what air magic is.”
“It’s all about mental powers, right? I should be
good at this.”
“Save the practicing for Logan and Vincent. You need
to learn to kill a being you cannot hear, see, or touch.”
“How am I supposed to---” Before I could finish the
questions, shadows swarmed around me. The flame of the gas lamp died and I was
left in utter darkness. The air was cold and still. The gravity was heavier.
I was in the shadow pass, the space between the
worlds. I sensed something reach out for me and reacted with fire… or I tried
to.
Nothing happened.
“Your magic doesn’t work the same here, just like
mine on Earth,” Langril said from somewhere behind me.
Yet he was still extremely powerful on Earth, so I
knew it was possible. “So what am I supposed to do?” I asked, although I knew I
wasn’t supposed to talk. A thin, clawed hand wrapped around my wrist. Fire
consumed the hand and while the flames did touch my skin, it didn’t burn me.
The creature I saw was horrendous. It had greenish-tan, slick, slimy skin with
no eyes, slit nostrils, and a circular, gaping mouth full of rings of sharp
teeth. It made a pained, rasping sound as if it were trying to yell without the
vocal equipment to do so. The fire died.
A flash of red light was my only warning before
searing heat struck me in the back with enough force to make me crash into the
ground. My heartbeat lost its normal rhythm and pain radiated through my chest,
stealing my breath. I reached into my pocket and pulled out one of my potions,
but Langril kicked it out of my hand.
“You think Krechea is going to let you heal yourself?
Get up.”
Struggling for breath, I managed to get as far as my
knees before Langril slammed his boot into the side of my knee. Only my disgust
of the creatures that I knew surrounded me kept me from making a sound.
“Pathetic. This is why you can’t save Astrid. How
many times has she saved your life? Even when you grew up, she watched over you
from a distance. You were too busy crying over your parents to ever help her.
Do you have any idea how hard she fought Krechea’s control? How hard she fought
mine? All so she could be yours.” He laughed. It was a cruel sound. “And what
did you do? You shot her.”
Anger overcame the pain in my chest and adrenaline
gave me the strength to stand. I let the anger fester. Shooting her the first
time was a mistake— shooting her the second time probably was, too— but Astrid
was the only one who had the right to make me feel bad about it.
I had more anger built up in me than I cared to
admit. I knew Langril was trying to provoke me and I was perfectly fine with
that. Anger kindled the fire forming inside me, earth magic gave me strength to
focus it, and water magic made me adaptable. I pushed the creatures that
surrounded me from my mind and focused. As the heat overpowered the uneven
thumping of my heart, I knew the creatures were drawn to it like flying bugs to
a light.
I ignored them and unleashed the heat into Langril
just before it could consume me. What struck him was not fire but the same red
lightning that he used. I collapsed, and although the darkness fled and left me
in the professor’s dim bedroom, black spots formed in my vision. My heart beat
too erratically and violently and pressure prevented me from drawing in a
breath.
I felt someone pressing a bottle to my mouth and
drank it without hesitation. My instincts would have warned me if it was
unsafe. I recognized the foul, bitter taste of my healing potion. Instantly, my
heart calmed and the pain settled.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Henry. Professor
Langril was leaning against his bed. His entire shirt was shredded and charred.
“I have no idea. I was in our room, and then I was
here.”
In
Tools of Magic
, we learned that there was
much more to building magical weapons than a carving knife. Something as
powerful as a wizard’s staff could be completely useless if it was prepared the
wrong way or if it was built by someone else. Every wizard had to create their
own with a specific purpose, because the kind of wood, oils, gems, and carvings
all determined its usage. Unfortunately, after constructing the dream catchers,
we had to pass a series of tests on the different usages before we could
actually begin building staffs and wands and whatnot.
“You have plenty of time for it,” Professor Aros
said.
“If we don’t all die first,” Theo said. Half the class
nodded their agreement.
Mythology
, like Professor Roswell’s class on
metals, was a research-based class that consisted of paper tests and essays on
theory.
Exciting
.
In
Summoning Your Familiar
, we moved on from
the official greeting ritual to the actual calling ritual. This took five
classes. “My mother’s familiar showed up on her doorstep when she was ten. She
didn’t even know she had magic,” one of the students said.
“My father could never call his familiar no matter
what he did. Does that have to do with the wizard?” Becky asked.
Professor Houx smiled kindly. He was one of the few
teachers Becky didn’t talk back to, and she could be extremely charming when
she wanted to be. “It is equally due to the wizard and the familiar. Remember
that the wizard and his familiar are designed to help each other. If you have a
shy, reserved wizard who will never take the necessary step forward, the
familiar is very likely a determined, headstrong beast who will rush into
things.”
Mixed Martial Arts
, while not very
supernatural, did help me regain some of the stamina I lost over the short
break. Since my heart was cursed and my life was shortened, I didn’t feel up to
going to the gym. I still got exercise from my cases, but most of my time was
spent looking up things on the computer or driving. Unlike all the professors,
Zhang Wei did not accept excuses. Outside of class, he was my friend. Inside of
class, he told me that I was going to do as well or better than the other
students if it killed me.
Li Na assured me in broken English that if I slacked
off, I would face a fully grown tiger. She knew this from experience; Zhang Wei
was the epitome of tough love.
Defensive Magic
was very much like
Professor/Alpha Watson’s elemental classes— brutal. Between surprise essays and
pop-duels, the eccentric professor seemed to be in competition with Professor
Langril on who could come up with the most dangerous lessons. When he enchanted
a dozen skeletons to rise and attack the living, then locked the class in the
practice field with them using an invisible energy field that would
incapacitate anyone who tried to cross it, six students dropped out.
Psychology of Shifters
was very interesting,
but I quickly figured out that there was no way to completely understand any
shifter. People were complex creatures. Shifters were people and animals
combined. Fortunately, Alpha Flagstone had a way of keeping the class engaging.
Since it was a class meant for shifters, it glossed over a lot of prerequisite
information.
Somehow, the subject of alcohol came up. For a number
of shifters, their metabolisms burned it off before it could affect them.
Darwin, who was busy carving formulas into his desk, absentmindedly said that
wine made him calm. Everyone stared at him in shock for a couple of minutes
before he looked up. “For about five minutes,” he added. “Then I throw it up.
It calms my mother for hours.” Disappointed grumbles filled the room.
Advanced Divination
was an exercise in
patience. While other students could predict fortune and love in their crystal
balls, I got everything from pitch blackness to bloody, headless bodies. When
my visions began to bleed into the minds of my classmates, Vincent asked me to
stop participating in class. Instead, he had me meditate for an hour and a half
for the good of my heart.
After a few weeks of practicing with Vincent and
Hunt, I was easily able to have a vision and defend myself without breaking it.
From there, we moved onto actually controlling the air. I would stand for hours
at a time, inside and outside, to practice controlling the air currents around
me. When I asked why I had to learn to do what a fan could do better, Hunt
explained that it was to strengthen my focus and endurance.
I thought I had good focus and I thought endurance
was earth magic until I started this lesson. Five minutes of trying to control
the wind felt like five hours, but Hunt never let me take a break. He had a
very no-nonsense way of teaching that combined the “use the force” style with a
“get over it” attitude. He wasn’t just a wise, powerful, old wizard like all of
the students thought; he had a cleverly disguised sense of humor.
Vincent was very good at explaining things and always
seemed to be able to read me. Since he had the power of visions instead of mind
control like John, I didn’t worry too much about that. I told him that I was
practicing with Langril as well and after muttering something in German, he
told me to just be careful.
Professor Langril was absolutely insane. The magic he
attacked me with would have killed anyone and he never held back. He taunted
me. He nearly killed me every single lesson, until I thought maybe he intended
for me to die before I could get the key.
I knew, however, that his methods were effective.
While the violent attacks I learned to use were not anything I was proud of, I
did feel like I stood a better chance against Krechea and his shadow walkers.
Because the magic I used was the same demonic power
that Langril used.
“I’m not… like you am I? I’m not half Dothra wizard,
right?” I asked, gasping for breath on his bedroom floor.
Despite the fact that I had just struck him with a
bolt of lightning that would have killed a human, he was barely breathing
heavily. “Every wizard is a descendent of Dothra. How much of your ancestral
nature you have in you is yet to be seen. Don’t worry; I have faith that you
will have the power you need when you need it to defeat your enemy.”
* * *
By Monday of the fifth week into the school semester,
the atmosphere in the university changed. Nobody died, there wasn’t anything
under the school trying to kill anyone, and nobody got a mysterious burning
sickness. In fact, I didn’t see any shadows trying to eat people. Word started
going around that maybe no one would die this semester.
Overnight, someone had displayed a large, lovingly
decorated poster in the dining room with a daily counter of how many days since
there was a death at Quintessence… starting this semester, at least.
Thirty-five days. What a record.
Darwin and I were eating dinner, wondering where
Henry was, when Addison sat down in his normal seat. “Where is Henry?” she
asked.
“We hid him in the closet when we saw you coming,”
Darwin said, then slapped his hand over his mouth melodramatically. “Oh, no,
you got it out of me. Do you want me to go get him? Do you want him to…” he
paused and raised his eyebrows for effect. “… come out of the closet?”
“I’m going to kick your ass one of these days,
Darwin.” Right after she said it, she looked over our shoulders and smiled.
Henry sat down beside her and handed her a small bouquet of wildflowers.
“What’s this for?” she asked. He shrugged, stood back up, and went to get a
tray of food.
“Darwin, didn’t your father teach you not to scratch
yourself at the dinner table?” Henry asked when he sat back down. Addison was
holding her flowers as if someone was going to try to take them from her.
“I can’t help it. My skin’s crawling.” Darwin
scrubbed at his chest and shoulders, twisting his dark green hoodie into a
knot. “It’s like the air is upset.”
“I feel it, too, but I’m not scratching.”
“I don’t feel anything odd,” I said.
“It must be a shifter thing,” Darwin said.
“But you’re only half shifter, so why do you feel it
stronger?” I glanced around the dining room and noticed other shifters
squirming or looking somewhat jittery. “Can’t animals tell when it’s going to
storm?”
Henry gave me his posh deadpan stare which was both
disapproving and impatient. “We’re not meteorologists. We can occasionally
detect sudden changes as part of our animal instincts. This doesn’t feel like
that.”
I was still scanning the room. “Hey, there are some
fae missing.” Amelia was with her roommates, but there was definitely a few
missing.
“They’re probably in class,” Henry said.
“Fae prefer earlier classes,” Darwin argued.
“It’s the nature fae that are missing.”
“It does feel like something is wrong with nature,”
Darwin said. “It’s upset.”
My instincts caused me to turn before I even heard
the commotion. I saw Jackson and his gang surrounding someone. Everyone except
the first circle students knew not to be alone with those guys.
“Why are you always getting involved?” Henry asked.
Only then did I realize that I had stood up. “I’m not
sure this time.” My instincts were telling me to get over there.
“Hey, someone has a mobile,” Darwin said. “That’s
what Jackson said; ‘hand over the phone.’ But why have it out in the open?”
Instead of answering, I approached the group, and
froze in shock when I saw who they were surrounding. The man had scruffy black
hair, bright blue eyes, and sharp features that made him appear older than his
twenty-five years. He was about six foot tall and athletic in an oddly lithe
way, since his long sessions of sitting in front of the computer were only
interrupted with short bouts of running for his life, jumping at every
unexpected sound, and setting traps in his own house for intruders.
Marcus, a pure human, was in the dining room. “What
are you doing here?” I asked, pushing Jackson out of my way. It wasn’t the
first question that came to mind, but there were few I could ask that wouldn’t
give him away.
“I followed you.”
“Give me the damn phone!” Jackson said, interrupting.
“What’s your problem?” Marcus asked. He clutched his
cell phone to his chest. It was beeping quietly.
I put myself between them and turned to face the
temperamental wizard. “Turn it off, take the battery out, and stick it in your
pocket,” I told Marcus quietly.
“Why?”
“There are several students here who would maim you
for it.”
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s a burner phone; I have no
attachment to it. Obviously, he needs it more than me. Give me a second to wipe
it and I’ll hand it over.” Just as he said, he held it out a moment later.
Jackson took it impatiently, dialed a number like his
fingers were on fire, and put it to his ear. “Maddy?” he asked after a second.
“How’s the baby?”
The relief on his face was out of character. “I told
you he needed it more than me,” Marcus said.
Jackson’s gang dispersed and I turned to Marcus. “How
did you follow me? I didn’t even take my car.” When he smiled proudly, I looked
down at my dark blue shirt and checked my silver buttons, which were all
identical.
“No, not that shirt. The dark green one you always
wear.”
“You tagged my favorite shirt? Why did you follow
me?”
He glanced around nervously. “That problem I told you
about? It’s my father. He found me. All my computers, my code names, every
camera I avoided… none of that stands a chance against money, apparently. I
need your help.”
“I’ll help you, but you should have called me instead
of showing up here.”
“What’s wrong with here? It’s just a school, right?”
Darwin approached us on my left and Henry on my
right. “What’s up?” Darwin asked. “Who’s this?”
“I’m…” Marcus trailed off, unsure whether or not to
lie. He hadn’t given his name to anyone in years.
“Come to my room and I’ll explain everything.” After
all, if anyone in the world could keep a secret, it was him. He turned and went
out into the hall. Just as we started up the stairs, there was a shout from
outside.
Becky came in through the exterior doors, started for
the dining room, saw me, and stopped. “Hey!” she whispered urgently.
“Something’s wrong with the weather. Where is Professor Watson?”
I knew no skepticism showed on my face. “The weather?
Is it snowing or something?”
She rolled her eyes. “Would I be trying to find
Professor Watson about snow in January? Go look.”
“Watson should be wrapping up his last class now,”
Darwin said. Becky nodded and ran back out the door. “Are we really going out
there?”
“Weren’t you the one that said the air is upset?”
“The
what
’s upset?” Marcus asked.
“Maybe you should go wait upstairs. This place is not
safe for you.”
He scoffed. “No way! What am I, twelve?”
I sighed, but he had a point. Darwin sniffed him and
frowned, so I pushed him ahead of me. “I’ll explain in a minute.” We went
outside. It was supposed to be in the very low twenties, but the wild wind made
it feel twenty below. I zipped up my leather jacket, which was great at cutting
the wind, but not at protecting my face from frostbite.
“What the hell?!” Darwin yelled, clutching his hood
around his face until only his mouth was visible.