“Where do I start?” I asked.

  The knight led me through a few meditative poses designed to put my body at ease. These were followed by exercises in which I would breathe in and out, trying to feel my mana, trying to focus it. None of that was fully foreign. My work with magical items was similar, but he started from the very basics, like this was the first time I’d touched on my internal power.

  Inside me magic flowed, and while feeling it wasn’t a strong sensation, there was a slight tingle where it moved, like static on my skin. Once I could feel it, Sir Kendrick had me focus it on one body part at a time. I had to increase the strength in my hands, or eyes, or ears, all little by little. This wasn’t a terribly odd exercise, and worked sort of like learning to use my abilities again. Focusing my aura into my skin to harden it was an odd one, but it did give me a very slight boost.

  “If you mastered that, you could temporarily boost your abilities in one way or another. Limited in use, and really more advanced than we’re doing now, but we might work on it later. Generally, training to increase them permanently is better though.”

  Long-term gains came only from training, using our powers again and again and slowly building strength, not unlike normal physical exercise, only on another level. That was still interesting though—the idea of expanding one ability without weeks or years of effort would be worth it. For now, though, I got the feeling that outside of this very controlled exercise it would be difficult to pull off.

  “Now onto our next part,” the knight declared. “Grab your magic and push it to your skin. Don’t bind it there, instead letting it flow.”

  I struggled to do what he said, but thought I was feeling it.

  “How do I know if it worked?” I asked, straining.

  To answer me, he pulled out a small rod from his belt and touched me with it. Instantly, a shock ran across my body, causing me to leap and lose concentration.

  “Good, had you failed, you would not have been able to move at all. Not a bad start, young man,” he told me with a smile.

  “That rather hurt,” I complained.

  “Oh, come now, that was the lowest setting. Now sit back down, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Chapter 29

  ✶

  Exhaustion Among Friends

  Imade it back to my dorm that evening somehow more tired than I’d have been if I’d gone to regular class. A few of the boys looked at me and, seeming to feel my mood, didn’t bother me as I fell into bed.

  While I wasn’t having to go through the mental exercise, or even most of the physical, that didn’t mean I wasn’t putting forth effort. Despite the knight’s assurances that eventually resistance would become second nature, it wasn’t currently. Maintaining the pressure was a constant expenditure of will, interrupted by the constant shocks as he put my efforts through the ringer.

  Even on the lowest setting the little taser baton Sir Kendrick was using could drop an unprepared man, and I suspected that if they weren’t so mana-intensive, they’d make great additions to the police armaments. They hurt through my novice resistance, but I’d taken a shot or two with my guard down and knew it was far worse without it. That, at least, was some small light at the end of the tunnel—knowing that my efforts were doing something.

  As I drifted in and out of sleep a knock came at my door.

  “Come in.”

  Lucas appeared there, looking at me sprawled out still in my dirty clothes.

  “Come now, Percival, at least wash before sleeping.”

  “You didn’t have the day I had,” I retorted.

  “Perhaps not, but we must maintain some standard, however minimal.”

  “Is there a reason you came to bother me?”

  “You didn’t show up to dinner, and I was worried about you, my friend. Lucky I was, too, if you’re this rough.” As he spoke he took my chair, sitting down to watch as I didn’t bother to rise.

  “I’m informed you’ll be getting some of the training I got today soon, since you’re in your last year,” I griped, hoping the threat would keep him from pushing too hard.

  “Perhaps, and perhaps I’ll be as poorly off as you are now.”

  “Not showing up to dinner hardly seems enough reason for all this,” I pointed out, pulling myself onto my elbows. “What’s the real reason?”

  “Rowena asked me to keep an eye on you; she worries.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, blinking.

  “She cares for you, in her own weird way, but she does. She’s also perceptive enough to know you’ve been pushing yourself to your absolute limits, and you’re getting worse.”

  “This whole plan was supposed to push me back to a reasonable schedule,” I said with a sigh. “Now I’m missing meals and barely able to walk.”

  “At least you know it though. Percival, I want you to promise me something.”

  “What’s that?” I wasn’t agreeing to anything until I’d heard it.

  “Take care of yourself, and listen to people. You don’t have enough people looking out for you, and next year I won’t be here. Maybe Simon could’ve helped, but he walked away, the bastard.”

  “No, he wasn’t wrong for that. Being near me is a danger right now, and he has his own people to look out for.”

  Lucas looked like he wanted to disagree but held his tongue. I was glad for that, for even though I liked Simon and wanted him to join me for my ongoing messes, I understood. His move was, if nothing else, mature.

  “Should put your friends before yourself though …”

  “Maybe, but not before your family or loved ones. Those must always come first.”

  “You know, it’s quite hard to be angry with people when you’re arguing for them.”

  “I do aim to please,” I snarked.

  “Still, try to not kill yourself training, would you?”

  “I said I aimed to please, didn’t I?”

  He laughed and pulled a small bundle from his jacket, tossing it to me.

  “Sandwich. If you’re going to keep going like this, you’ll need your energy. Things will be far worse if you’re not in good shape to continue your training, won’t they?”

  “That,” I said as I opened the little cloth package and took a bite, “is a very solid point.”

  I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until that first mouthful, and then my stomach went into overdrive. Within moments I’d scarfed the whole thing, not even leaving crumbs. Of course, I was well prepared for food issues. Having learned my lesson well from our first year, I kept a small stash of dried meat and fruit in one of my suitcases, enough for a snack or two, and long lasting so I didn’t worry about replacing it too often. As I unloaded that bundle, Lucas laughed.

  “Seems I didn’t need to worry then, did I?”

  “No, but I appreciate the thought. Want some?” I asked, offering a few slices of dehydrated apple to him.

  “I’ll pass.”

  “Your loss.” I smiled at him. I’d had few friends like Lucas in my other life, and in some ways he was almost like a cousin or what I imagined a brother would be.

  “What?”

  “Just thinking about the past, my friend. Glad you were there with me.”

  “Bah, don’t get all sappy on me; leave that for the girls,” he said, reaching out to flick me on the forehead.

  We laughed for an hour or two more, sharing jibes and barbs, along with a few jokes we’d both heard a hundred times. It was a good first day, but eventually I did kick him out so I could go wash and sleep.

  Over the next week I stabilized. The training was still brutal, and I wasn’t sure it was helping at all, but I got used to it. There was even time for me to do my schoolwork here and there, making sure my grades were maintained, for if they weren’t, I was sure to hear about it from all sides.

  Chapter 30

  ✶

  Slow Starts

  If I was making progress, I certainly wasn’t seeing it. Every day seemed the same, with more tests, more meditations, and more shocks from that damnable rod of Sir Kendrick’s. No matter how hard I tried or how long I practiced, I never seemed to be able to block out the attack completely, always feeling it race across my skin with each tap.

  He did at least introduce some small changes in the exercise though. Some days I was given short exercises to do while he poked me here and there throughout—jumping jacks or push-ups—and other days I sat in various positions. Sometimes we moved throughout all these things in one day, but more often than not, we kept to one at a time.

  I didn’t complain, though, for I knew it to be a waste of time. They were determined that I learn this, and as soon as I figured out whatever problem I was having, I would excel. My instructor didn’t seem bothered in the least bit by my lack of growth in resistance, pointing out when my attention lapsed but occasionally commending me on maintaining my resistance while working. There were other changes though.

  “How are you doing today, Percival?” Sir Kendrick asked about halfway through a session.

  “Well enough,” I said. “Would you mind if I asked a question?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I feel stronger, faster, my senses sharper, like they’re all slowly growing,” I said, and it was true.

  “You remember the pushing and how it increased your abilities?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s that,” he replied. “Your body is adapting to releasing more mana at once, strengthening you. This isn’t your baseline, but rather this is you subconsciously using your power to empower yourself all the time. Do you understand?” he asked.

  “But I don’t feel like I’m doing that,” I said.

  “I’d have to get a caster to look you over, but at this point in the training almost everyone begins to release their mana as a reaction. In time you’ll get more control, which will continue to increase your magical resistance; or, if you decide to learn the method, it’ll help you hide your aura completely.”

  “Hide … completely?”

  “Yes, the same thing we’re doing now just in reverse, but don’t worry about that for the moment. These things come in time, Percival, and there’s a reason we do them in a certain order. It makes the training easier. In years past, there were many methods, but those are gone now, replaced with modern techniques. These techniques work better, we are stronger for them, but they come in an order.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, nodding, knowing that arguing would be useless. He’d teach me when he was ready to teach me.

  “Good. Now, I’ve arranged for a bit of a test of sorts, one week from today. Before that, though, we need to practice your actual fighting while using your resistance,” he said.

  “What sort of test?” I asked.

  “If I told you, that would make the test less effective. Trust in the process.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said tiredly.

  “Good, now go grab a practice blade and we’ll begin.”

  It turned out our new exercise was to spar while I kept the resistance going. It was a bit of a struggle, but there were some benefits. Sir Kendrick didn’t really like to talk much while practicing, instead letting his weapon speak for him. He could hit me at will with the rod, but there were times when he used his own practice blade to slap me.

  It didn’t take me long to realize that each strike from the knight’s wooden sword was to correct my stance or my attack, and I began to watch. I copied some of his own moves here and there, taking blows when I did them wrong, but picking up new tricks fast. It also fixed some issues in my own fighting style that I didn’t even realize I had.

  For days we continued, and I felt like I was actually learning something from him. Not resistance. No, that was still evading me; but instead, hand-to-hand combat from a master instructor who was devoting all of his time to me and me alone. It was something few got, and I wasn’t going to waste it. This man was a personal servant of the king and for that reason had to be supremely skilled at his art, better than all my previous teachers, except perhaps the headmaster, and Headmaster Logan hadn’t trained me like this.

  Before I knew it, another week had passed. The days had slipped by me, between work and actually beginning to enjoy my training. This time, rather than our normal setup, Sir Kendrick met me in the arena, and he was not alone.

  “Professor?” I asked, as I saw Professor Ruian had joined him.

  “Hello, Percival,” she said. “Doing well?”

  “I am, ma’am, but why are you here?”

  “The good professor will be helping with your test, Percival,” Sir Kendrick answered for her. “You two will spar, with your goal being to touch her, and touch only—don’t strike—with your practice weapon. Her goal will be to keep you from doing so.”

  I blinked a few times. The professor was, as far as I knew, a caster of some form, being that she taught magical item creation classes, but I hadn’t imagined I’d be fighting her. I was also a bit nervous about actually trying to go against a teacher, something that normally wouldn’t be tolerated, and even more so with a female teacher.

  “Are you sure this is all right?” I demurred.

  “Oh, don’t worry, boy,” Professor Ruian said, waving me off. “I’ve faced worse than you. And remember, you’re not actually to hit me, just to try and touch.”

  “Places,” Sir Kendrick said with a small smile, “for you may one day need to battle against women. Don’t get hung up on it now.”

  As a point of fact, I’d had to fight girls, albeit of a goblin persuasion. Should this really be so different? With a nod I went to my side of the arena, taking my stance and getting ready.

  “There will be three rounds. On my count, begin,” he said before slowly counting down.

  At zero I surged forward, and the professor threw forth her hand.

  Chapter 31

  ✶

  Testing My Resistance

  Iwas a little anxious about fighting the little old lady that was Professor Ruian, but that changed in the first second of the battle. Around me the sands of the arena exploded in a wave, thrown back by whatever spell she’d hit them with. Even I felt the power slam into me, tossing me back a few feet like a hard wind in a storm. But I stood through the assault, blinking the dust out of my eyes as I tried to dodge any follow-up attacks. I could tell that even though I’d been affected, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The circle we stood in was tossed away, but I’d only been thrown a bit. Seemed like I was making a bit of progress after all.

  There was no time to bask in small victories, though, as the good professor seemed determined to give me a true test. As I was still recovering, several bright missiles flew forth from her hands, arcing wildly as they zeroed in on me. I began to bob and weave through the barrage of attacks, avoiding them with quick, evasive movements.

  “You can’t defend only the boy,” Sir Kendrick yelled from the sideline. “Attack!” Sir Kendrick yelled from the sideline.

  He was right, of course, and so without words, I dove toward my enemy, two of her arrows slamming into my side. They stung just a bit, but beyond that, there was no lasting change. That seemed to surprise her, and within a mere second I was beside her, lightly tapping her with the flat of the practice blade.

  “Good show, Percival,” she said with a smile. “Seems I’ll have to try harder.”

  “Please don’t feel the need, Professor,” I replied, worried what would come next. As our next round began, she twirled her arms, and the small group of missiles she’d shot at me before looked like fireflies compared to the coming storm. This wasn’t a handful of crows chasing a hawk but a full-on moving flock of starlings, buzzing like a swarm of angry bees.

  “Shit,” I managed as the wave crashed, moving toward me like a stampede.

  Behind the swarm I saw the good professor releasing more and more of them, flowing from her hands and leaving trails in the air in fractal patterns. That gave me a hint, though, about the nature of these attacks.

  Dancing around the edges of her still-growing attack, I tested my idea, focusing on protecting my hand and slapping one of the little attackers. It dissolved with almost no issue at all, feeling like a popping balloon against my hand.

  Gritting my teeth, for I knew what I needed to do, I pushed my mana as hard as I could to the front of my body and charged, one arm up to cover my face. The result was loud, with the professor yelling in alarm as I passed through her cloud of defenders, each exploding like a tiny grenade against me but doing little. With a quick move, I touched her once again with the practice blade.

  “Are you okay, boy?!” she asked, seemingly unconcerned about my win.

  “Perfectly fine, Professor,” I answered with a nod.

  “What made you do that?” Sir Kendrick asked from the sidelines.

  “With so many more coming at me, I knew they had to be weaker, and after testing my theory, the only way out seemed to be through,” I told him.

  The knight guffawed. “It worked, but don’t depend on that in the future. It’s a good way to get yourself killed against a more practiced opponent. Had she left most of her projectiles weak with only a few strong attacks mixed in, you’d have had a very bad time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Professor Ruian looked quite displeased now that she was sure I was fine, and I knew I was in for it now. It didn’t matter how much I’d grown. She still had quite a few years of practice on me, and I knew the headmaster didn’t have people on his staff who weren’t good at what they did. Perhaps this wasn’t her forte, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have something.

  We reset once more, and she looked over at me, eyes narrowed. As our knight called us to begin again, there was no wave of missiles—no missiles as all. Instead, small glowing lines crisscrossed in front of me.

  I tried to look for somewhere to dodge, but there was nowhere. The net closed in, and knowing that I couldn’t avoid it, I once more charged, hoping to break the strands. That was a mistake. As soon as the first one touched me, it was like jumping into a spider’s web. Quickly the strands grabbed on, wrapping me in layer upon layer of kinetic webbing.