Magic Academy (A Fantasy New Adult Romance) (24 page)

Her excitement to help further became
panic when she realized the door wouldn’t open.

It was sealed. And not by any mundane
lock, but a magical one.

Gway’lin had opened it for her to
get up, but it had been set to reseal afterwards, it seemed. Was this
a test then?

She forced her calm and tried to gauge
the magical aura there as she had the battle scars. The magical
syllabary came into view, and the first of the words she recognized
clearly. How couldn’t she? Gway’lin himself had been
there to teach her.

Read.

Easy enough. The incantation below it
was something much more complex, however.

Her heart was pounding, but she
wouldn’t give up. Her choice was to figure out this lock or
tumble through the air and possibly kill herself on the spire below.

And Firia didn’t care much for
pain or broken limbs.

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on her
breathing, thinking back to the time she’d spent with Mae’lin
in the library. A soft smile turned up her lips, though she
immediately felt guilty. What did that mean, that she’d have
such tender thoughts of someone and they’d make her feel so
horrific?

Her thoughts were getting away from
her, but she kept refocusing on the task at hand.

The words were slow to take shape. She
could make out the first couple of words in the script but got stuck
after that. She trailed her eyes along the beautiful lettering,
remembered the nights with Mae’lin, poring over the sorcerous
language together, catching up on what they’d missed.

The tall, lanky elf was such a calm and
steady joy to be around.

She remembered being stuck on a symbol
for the fourth time, and him patiently smiling at her, trying to help
her out…

That was it! She had it, and
immediately the rest of the words fell into place with it. She
intoned the incantation and the door opened for her easily. She was
free to follow the trail downwards, and so she went.

When she reached the outside she
thought to go find Gway’lin, but time was short. She’d
spent so much of the morning just figuring out how to detect their
magical trails that the exam period grew closer. If she didn’t
do it before then, either them or her, or all three, would be
banished from the academy.

Going around the side of the library,
where she estimated the two would’ve landed, she opened her
senses and traced their magical auras. She’d been right. She
could see the distinctive signs, the two having been using their
spells right down to the ground, doubtlessly to save themselves.
Though they did not save a bush she found, crushed beneath them or
their spells; it was wet and crumpled.

It occurred to her, one of Mae’lin’s
water spells! He must’ve used his control over water to take
some pool atop that tower above to help cushion his fall.

She was on the right trail, she knew
that for certain, and followed it off.

To her surprise, the signs of spell
casting did not end. The two must have been insistent, for they
seemed to have continued their struggle to the bitter end, right
around the back and towards…

The secret grove.

She ran to it, pushing through the
bushes and then…

A trap.

The moment she passed through, she
realized it wasn’t the quiet, secret grove she stood in, but a
magical snare. A dark chamber lined with so many doors, each with its
own arcane words scrawled upon it, and – she sensed – a
powerful glyph, the likes of which had once barred her into her room
at night.

The likes of which it had taken her
familiar days to beat down, and she had little inkling of how to even
try. She had… hours to not only reproduce that task but
firstly to decipher which door she had to begin with.

Her stomach churned.

The Night Before...

Ancient and immortal, Varuj had powers
beyond the reckoning of most. Once free of the academy’s
influence, he travelled across the world by some mysterious arcane
means to Firia’s home.

His tall, athletic form strode from the
constables quarters. Her father hadn’t been there. He’d
been moved to a higher security facility closer to the capital.

With another great burst of magical
energy he tore through the air to appear at his destination. Though
exhaustion nearly overwhelmed him. It had been too much of an
exertion for so short a time. Two long distance travels in one night
would’ve been beyond the abilities of most mortal sorcerers
after all.

The dark-skinned Varuj kept composed
however, and headed along the sleepy town’s street to the
prison. He’d feed his hunger later and make up for the lost
energy.

The constables offices were quiet,
rightfully so. It was late. Though moments after he slipped in
through the door, officers pushed past behind him and he had to slip
around a corner out of sight.

“Those damn mundane rebels are at
it again,” cursed the elvish officer. “But this time,
we’ll stop ‘em.”

He could hear the sound of at least
three sets of boots moving through the office towards the armoury.
“Shouldn’t we be making our way to the Guild Hall then?”

“Not until we’ve armed up,”
replied a third voice. “They might not have any magical
ability, but there’s bound to be a lot of them. And armed with
weapons of some sort.”

“Don’t be fooled by these
sorts. They’re dangerous, like any animal, when backed into a
corner.”

With that they were gone again,
vanished into the other side of the law enforcement building. Varuj
pondered for a moment and conjured up Luka from within him, the swirl
of lights announcing the creatures presence.

Go
, came his voice psychically
to the creature,
follow those men and report back to me where
they’re going.
He had a plan formulating already.

Obediently, Firia’s familiar
dimmed then pranced off to follow the constables on their mission.

With that done, Varuj was free to find
her father and –

“What are you doing here?”
came a woman’s voice, and he turned around to see the sight of
a female constable at the end of the hall he had been hiding in,
standing outside an open door with her arms folded over her chest.

He’d been caught. Cursing himself
inwardly for allowing such a slipup – thanks to his depleted
magical state – he forced a smile to his face. Those devilishly
handsome features shone through from beneath his dark hood as he
stepped slowly closer. “I was hoping to find a constable that
might help me,” he said in his silken voice.

She didn’t look swayed, however.
“Awfully late to come sneakin’ around here.” Her
blonde hair was pulled away from her face and pinned at the nape of
her neck, revealing her strong jaw and full lips. “You look
more likely to be a thief.”

With a broad grin and a deep, smooth
chuckle he said, “Would be the wrong place for a thief to show
up, no? The heart of law enforcement itself.” His curious
accent rolled off his tongue so deliciously as he approached the
elven woman, a triangle of chest bare from his foreign robe-style. “I
am Tieq. A visitor from afar.” He gave a deep, gentlemanly bow
that surpassed the grace of the most noble of elves.

Her eyes narrowed at him, her suspicion
not allayed. “And you decide, of all places to act the tourist,
to come here in the middle of the night?” Her voice was a bit
husky but calm, even though her motions spoke to being apprehensive.

Rising up, he reached beneath his hood
and stroked back some of that thick, lustrous black hair. “In
my land, the law is caretaker to all. An aid to lost travellers, a…”
he hesitated, his almond-shaped eyes brightening as he stood but a
foot from her then. “Comfort to the lost man,” he said in
manly husk, the subtle influences of his spells lacing his every word
with such powerful persuasion.

It gave her pause, and she held her
breath for a moment longer. Swallowing, she looked him over once
more, taking him in and considering the truthfulness of his story
before she finally nodded. Even in his exhaustion he managed to make
her agree, and her arms unfolded from beneath her chest.

“What is it you’re lookin’
for, then?”

“Well,” he began, a wry
smile on his face, showing those white teeth of his, so flawless. “I
was looking for a man I heard to be arrested, but…” He
looked her over with obvious interest, his hand moving up, then
trailing down the center of his chest, drawing the woman’s eyes
to his hard pecs, then down along the trail between his chiselled abs
as he parted the robe lower with his touch. “It is hard to
think on such things in such beauteous presence.”

She shifted, watching his hand intently
as her lips parted. It was a natural and subconscious response to his
teasing, but the woman was clearly trying to fight it. She swallowed
hard, but when she spoke again it was breathily. “What type of
man?”

“Human, somewhat tall.” He
described her father in as great of detail as he could, ending with,
“He was arrested for treason, I hear. Nasty sort of accusation,
no?” He stepped in close to her, his scent, so masculine, so
exotically foreign, so alluring in her nostrils as he hovered near.
“’Tis a shame I must concern myself with such a fellow,
when I stand before a woman every bit more worthy of my attentions,”
and his free hand rose, touching beneath her chin. That warm stroke
of her flesh was scintillating, filled with magical influence.

Her head tilted into him, her lashes
descending downwards. She looked so peaceful and calm except for the
heat that radiated from her cheek. She was luxuriating in his feel,
his smell, his presence. It was as though she were dazed by him,
struck by his strange attractiveness.

Varuj moved in so that his nose grazed
hers: “You wouldn’t happen to know where such a man is
held, would you, hm?” His voice such a deliriously pleasant
husk as he stroked his fingers from her jawline along down her neck.

He felt her swallow again as she
nodded. “He’s in the interrogation cells.” Then,
obviously remembering he wasn’t a constable, she added on, “At
the end of the hall take a left, then a right. Go up the stairs five
flights, then take a left until the end.” She rubbed her cheek
into his palm, forcing him to stroke her like an affectionate cat.

Varuj smiled so approvingly, and it was
enough to make her blush. “Thank you, darling,” he cooed
so affectionately. “You have been a tremendous help,” and
he leaned in, head tilted as he pressed his lips to hers, letting his
tongue penetrate her full lips and whorl about her mouth so
sensually.

He could still taste some lingering
sweetness, as if she’d stolen away for a snack. Her mouth was
so warm against his, and she was so receptive. So sweetly enthralled
by his magics and charm.

With subtle grace he brought his other
hand to her side, grasped her hip and pulled her in tight to him as
he kissed her so deeply. So passionately, so…

She was unconscious, as he had intended
with his soothing spell, and he held her body in his arms as he
dragged her into the room she’d come out of and set her down in
the chair. “Rest well,” he said with a smirk, heading off
back into the hall and following her directions.

It took him a while to make it to the
interrogation cells, as he had to be careful to not be seen again.
Conserving his remaining magical energy was vital to his plans.

So when he approached the cell
containing Firia’s father, the man didn’t even hear his
approach.

“Firia sent me,” came his
voice so quietly, though it stirred the silence.

“Firia?!” came the excited
and confused voice of the middle-aged man. “H-how?” He
came to the cell door and grasped the bars. “Who are you?”
he asked, seeing the strange man staring in.

“A friend of hers. From the
Academy,” Varuj replied. “I came in her stead, for it was
the only way to convince her not to throw away her future on your
behalf.”

A half smile teased the man's lips
before he shook it away. "Well I'm glad to see she still has
some sense left. I told her before I left, giving her what I did…"
The man took a deep breath. "Still, it's too late for me. I'm
already guilty in their eyes, and I won't apologize for what I did."

Varuj stared in at the man seriously.
“You know that will not be enough to satisfy her,” he
retorted immediately. “If I do not free you from here, she
shall never be satisfied, and will throw her entire future away in
restless pursuit of your freedom. That is an unavoidable fact of the
situation."

Varuj wet his lips as he peered up and
down the hall before speaking next. “I can get you out of here.
But not without a price. I have already paid greatly just to get this
far,” he intoned.

The prisoner grimaced. "I gave
everything I had for Firia. Everything."

“Not that kind of price,”
he said grimly. “I can free you. Bring you to people who may
shelter you. But it will take a heavy toll. And I need you to
sacrifice something far more valuable than coin to make that
possible.” He softened his gaze and asked, “You love your
daughter, no? And you crave freedom from this prison? I can give you
both.”

Kanfa continued to stare skeptically at
the man before finally he nodded. "Fine, yes. Whatever it is to
keep Firia on her path. Just, we must be quick. The guards will be
checking me before sunrise."

Varuj brought his dark, neatly
manicured hand up to the window slot and reached through. “Take
my hand then,” he intoned, and the two men joined their touch.
“You’ve volunteered a great sacrifice for your daughter.
You’re a grander father than I could’ve imagined. I only
hope you remain half as much minus your soul.”

The middle-aged human had little time
to react, barely passing the stage of confusion before he felt the
very essence of his life leach out of him in spiritual pact.