My body was stuck fast, and I tried to push my resistance out. Slowly, the strands of my teacher’s webbing began to slip off, dissolving or just finding no purchase on me. I nearly had a hand free as I saw her move again.

  Sweat was pouring down Professor Ruian’s face as she furrowed her brows in concentration. As she did so, all around me the sand began to move. That was bad, very bad.

  Like flowing water, the sand around me climbed up my legs, forming thick layers before seeming to harden into rock. I struggled but couldn’t break it off where I was tied up, and once it hardened I had no leverage at all. First one leg, then the second were submerged, and my hips followed not long after. She was nice when she got to my chest, leaving me plenty of room to breathe, even if I couldn’t move much. Inch by inch she began to cover my arms, and I got desperate.

  I tossed my sword, not hard, but hard enough to make it to her. Sadly, it missed, but it did make her flinch, ducking to the side and giving me a moment of respite. In that second I tried to break away from her trap, but it just wasn’t enough. I was held fast in the layers of magic.

  “That’s enough, I think,” Sir Kendrick said from the side.

  “Very well,” Professor Ruian said, releasing me, the stones cracking and falling away before finally returning to the ever-present sand.

  “Remember, Percival, that resistance will only help against direct-spell effects. Summoned or controlled elements will bypass it completely, and need to be dealt with in other manners,” he told me.

  “Right, sir. I remember.” He had told me that in the past, but I’d never actually experienced it. If water was summoned and controlled, my new ability wouldn’t help me at all—the same as the sand the professor had used. Not everything could be stopped that way, and I needed to keep that in mind. “Do you mind if I sit for a moment?”

  “No, I need to talk to the professor anyway,” he said.

  Though those spars had only lasted a few minutes, my body was shaking. Adrenaline and stress had built up in those moments, along with the full expenditure of effort, and I was spent. So, while they talked I went to sit on one of the stands, laying back and breathing deeply.

  “I thought you were going to keep to direct attacks?” I heard Sir Kendrick whisper as he got close to his guest instructor.

  “If I’d done that, the boy would’ve won every round. What in the world kind of training have you been giving him?” she returned in an equally low tone. They probably didn’t realize that I could still hear them.

  “Keep your voice down,” he said. “Did you actually try?” he asked.

  “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to hold back to keep an ego intact.”

  I wanted to laugh. Here I’d been thinking that I wasn’t making any progress at all, but it seemed my instructors disagreed. Of course I couldn’t laugh, though, or I’d give away just how good my hearing was, and it was good to keep one or two cards close to your chest. Had this been a real battle, I’d have been in trouble, but had this been a real battle, I’d have shot the professor long before those spells got to me, so I was happy enough.

  “Percival!” Sir Kendrick yelled from across the arena.

  “Yes, sir!” I replied, sitting up and looking to him.

  “Good work! You pass, if barely. I want to see you working harder though. Don’t think just because you managed this that your training is anywhere near done.”

  “Understood,” I said, nodding to him.

  “Off with you; get some rest.”

  With another affirmative nod, I left, keen to get a bath while the baths were still empty. However, as I left, something struck me. Normally, if teachers wanted to have a private conversation, they’d use a small bubble spell to keep ears out, but they hadn’t. Had they really forgotten, or had I been meant to hear their words? It sent a chill up my spine, for I knew that if I was meant to overhear them, and I slacked off even a little bit, failure would not be taken lightly.

  Chapter 32

  ✶

  Gratification

  It was at least gratifying when Lucas began his resistance training. I’d had to go through mountains of it, but his first few days he was spent. I even got to reenact his little talk with me that first day I’d missed dinner.

  “Are you going to be all right?” I asked him as he lay on his bed, seemingly unable to rise.

  “Eventually, but everything hurts.”

  “Yes, I’m quite familiar with it,” I pointed out.

  “How did you get past this?”

  “Same way you get past anything else—practice.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Sit up, I’ll run you through a few exercises,” I offered.

  “Not going to poke me with some terrible stick are you?”

  “No.” I was at least pleased to hear that this seemed to be the standard method, not just something Sir Kendrick had cooked up for me.

  From what I could gather, Lucas and the other fourth-year students were getting a similar, if less focused, regimen to what I’d gotten. They weren’t really expected to get too far with it; after all, this was just an introduction for them. They also weren’t spending nearly as much time in a day working against outside magic. Nor did I get the feeling they’d be keeping up this training as long as I was. No. Instead, it seemed like just another subject to teach the students and move on, like a single class and no more.

  In the end they would lose out on fighting against magic, but that might be intentional. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if the government was keeping a lot of secrets from us, specializing their civilians in one direction that wouldn’t be a threat to the military. In fact, since we were largely expected to be rich boys, and many of us weren’t going to go to war, it made perfect sense. Teach us only the basics so that mages might be employed against us.

  Surely there was training for the mages that was similar too. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if there were some gaping holes in the training that Rowena or any other number of wizards were getting, holes that would open them up should they ever rebel against the government. Briefly, I wondered what those were and where they’d left chinks in the armor.

  It bothered me, but then I realized that my government back on Earth would have done the same. There’s no way they’d have let people with superpowers run around with a full suite of training and no oversight. Heck, they’d probably have kept a very, very close eye on all of us, too, looking for anything dangerous.

  “You’re staring off into space again,” Lucas pointed out.

  “Hmm? Oh, right, as I was explaining you need to hold your mana and push it. The sensation is odd, but think of it almost like charging a magical device.”

  “I never really do that,” he admitted.

  “What? Really?”

  “Yes, just doesn’t come up often.”

  I was flabbergasted. That was a primary way for us to make money, and he just didn’t do it? Maybe his parents were spoiling him, not making him get his own pocket money, but nearly everyone here did it.

  “Well, that explains why you’re having such a hard time with this. Don’t you have an enchanted sword? How do you charge that?”

  “What? Oh, I rarely ever use the enchantment on it. Even then, I’ve only had to charge it once or twice. And …”

  “And?”

  “And the servants at home do it while I’m there …”

  “You’re profoundly lazy, you know that?”

  “Hey! I’m quite busy, and I get more than enough of that nonsense from my sister, thank you.”

  “If she’s right, she’s right.”

  He halfheartedly punched at me but seemed unwilling to rise. It brought to mind those first few days of training I’d gone through, and even if he wasn’t going as hard at it, I understood that.

  In time, I got him to stretch a bit and even meander off to go bathe. I also learned that he hadn’t followed my good example and kept snacks in his room. That was painful to learn. He’d seen me do it, and even knew why I did it, but hadn’t bothered to so much as grab some dried meat? Shameful, absolutely shameful.

  Leaving him to his evening, I moved off, for I had work as well. Always more work, always more to do.

  When I got back to my room, I looked at my mail and found a surprise. There were always letters from friends—Rowena and various parts of my family. Letters were huge, like phone calls or texts, and so I spent time every day dealing with them, responding and trying to be generally thoughtful. My parents, however, seldom sent me letters during the semester. Today that changed.

  There among my normal papers was a thick envelope from my parents. Much of it was just them keeping me up to date. They’d been busy back home, it seemed, and while Mother hated the city, it also seemed they’d be coming here before too long. Mother had also included a huge packet of information about the burgeoning planes. It seemed Grandpa had been building a few more, and people were interested. Those people had, of course, gone to my parents, rather than my grandpa, who’d tell them to shove off, or rather than me, who’d do much the same. Poor fools had underestimated my mother, and a brief look told me she’d buried them under a deluge of paperwork, the backend of which I was now getting to see.

  It all culminated with something that I’d not been expecting. She provided the dates that they’d be coming to the city, a couple weeks from now, and it seemed they’d be staying well through the next winter. It seemed she’d left out exactly why that was, but I’d find out when they got here, for there would be a reason. That much was clear.

  Chapter 33

  ✶

  Joy and Tears

  There was at least one advantage to my new schedule, and that was flexibility. Most of the time when we were at school, we were at school. However, with personal training being the bulk of what I was doing, I could finish up early in the afternoon before one of our off days and, well, go home. Perhaps in my first or second year I’d not have been allowed to do such a thing, but now … nobody seemed to mind.

  And that was how I found myself heading back home one early afternoon. I’d only get to spend the night with my family. I’d not seen my parents in a year, and it would be nice to catch up. Perhaps we weren’t that close, but I still cared for them.

  As I strolled up to the door, I received an unexpected surprise—Mother coming out to greet me. Rather than send one of the maids or housekeepers to wait, she must have stayed at the door herself, looking for me to pull up to the curb.

  The moment the door was closed she wrapped me in a tight hug. It wouldn’t be proper for her to do so outside unless something insane had happened, but just inside the door she didn’t hold back.

  “Oh Percival, you’ve grown so much!” she gushed.

  “Not really …” I demurred. Though, in retrospect, I had by about an inch or two.

  “Nonsense, come in, we’ve got to catch up.”

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me how displeased you are that I took the plane?” I asked as we sat down.

  “I hadn’t planned to, but if you’re going to bring it up, it was dangerously irresponsible. Your grandpa seemed satisfied with the punishment he gave you though.”

  “You’re being strangely nice …” I said.

  “Well, before I got here your grandma and I had a long conversation about me leaving you to what would normally be my work.” Ah, that explained it. Mother might not be one to cross, but Grandma was an outright monster when she wanted to be.

  I chuckled. “Yes, please don’t do that again.”

  “Worry not, your father and I are doing it this time around. I think he’s going through the ledgers as we speak.” I raised an eyebrow. She’d somehow managed to pawn some of it off on Dad? That was impressive, and it showed that while she never complained, she must have really hated doing the paperwork herself.

  “Think we’ll see him before dinner?” I asked.

  “Percival, be nice. Your father is … Well, he likes his work, and it makes him happy to do it.”

  I had nothing personal against my dad, but I just didn’t understand him at all. He avoided us most of the time, getting deep into his own work and research, or whatever he did. He was distant, not cold, but just so far away that I never really got to know him. My few attempts over the years had all ended in failure.

  Mother had been formal for most of my life, but she was around, present and happy to spend time with me. If I went to her and tried to make some connection she seemed happy to have it, but my father, not so much. She and I, even though we were separated like men and women in our society were, still talked, still spent time together. She’d even given me some of my first training with the sword and never missed a tournament if she could help it.

  Father still cared, I thought, in his own odd way, but it was like there was some blockage between us. He’d given me my sword, he’d spoken to me once or twice, and even appeared one time when I’d taken a bad loss in a fencing match to pat me on the back, but it was like he just didn’t understand what to do at all.

  Not sure what to do with the feelings I was having, I ended up sitting down and telling Mother about my schoolwork. I was leaving out a lot of the various attacks; she could hear about those from others. We even discussed my current relationship with Rowena, something she was more than eager to talk about, giving that whole part of our conversation her rapt attention.

  Soon enough we’d worked our way through most of the events I wanted to talk about, and she got on to what they’d been doing. She and Father had spent last year doing a bit of light traveling through the kingdom, never too far from our summer home, but enough to get to places they’d never been before.

  “Honestly, it was the best thing we’ve done in years,” she concluded. “I know I’m expected to come here now and then, but I truly don’t like this city. When you graduate I might never come back.”

  “Why?” I asked, surprised.

  “It’s stuffy, small, and smells devastatingly bad. More than that, frankly, I dislike the Season as a whole. Seems like a grand waste of time and effort.”

  “Yet you’re here now,” I pointed out.

  “To see you. Your father and I talked about it, and though you’ll eventually inherit all the estates, we thought you might like to stay in this house in a couple years when you graduate. It would give you some … privacy, particularly should you and Rowena decide to marry.”

  “Is … is that why you left me with all the paperwork?”

  “Um,” she nodded thoughtfully. “And I hate it.”

  That made me laugh. “I’ll think about it, but don’t rush things.”

  Time was limited, and soon enough it was time for dinner. I hadn’t had dinner with them properly in so long, and though it was a bit formal for me, I still liked it. There was a little chatting with my father, who looked bothered for some reason, and dishes that I liked much more than those from the school.

  When we were finished, we split for the evening. Since I had tomorrow off, I’d stay here. After all, my bed was much better than the one provided by the school. As I passed the servant’s quarters I heard weeping and muffled voices from deep within. That was odd, very odd, so I listened for a moment more.

  “Shh dear, it’s going to be okay,” my favorite cook cooed, trying to reassure someone. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and everyone knows it. I’m sure you’ll get a good reference; there’s nothing at all to worry about.”

  The response was unintelligible through the tears that had to be flowing, but I knew the voice, the tone, the sounds. Without hesitation I knocked on the door to their quarters.

  A few moments later Mrs. Rider opened the door a crack, looking out at me.

  “Why is Kaylee crying?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

  “Sir, really, this isn’t something you should get involved in,” she answered, trying to close the door.

  She tried but failed. I’d placed my hand upon it, and though Mrs. Rider might be strong in many ways, my body might as well have been an iron doorstop.

  “Why is Kaylee crying?” I repeated, letting just a hint of the fury I felt creep in, and I saw her pale. Perhaps I wasn’t known for anger, but she knew well just how dangerous I could be.

  Chapter 34

  ✶

  Confrontation

  Iwill have an answer,” I said, voice hard as steel and cold as ice.

  “Sir, please calm down. Really, it’s fine; everything is fine.” Mrs. Rider had never seen me angry, truly angry, before. As a point of fact, few people had. Irritated, sure. Unhappy, all the time. Even a bit mad? Yes, that happened; but the cold fury working its way through my veins now was something rare.

  “Then you can answer me.”

  “Your f-father was working his way through the finances and found we had too many maids, so he decided to …”

  “Did he now?” I finished her explanation for myself, gathering clues from what I’d heard before. “And how many did he let go?”

  “Just one sir. Kaylee is the newest and so …” She let the sentence die, and I understood.

  “Have her return to her duties. I will speak to him of this.” My piece said, I turned on my heel and began to walk away.

  For years I’d thought about how I felt with Kaylee around but never really considered how my father felt. It must be such a burden for him, seeing the child he created but never took care of. That was the true reason for this—shame, shame and an unwillingness to do what was right. Well, if he couldn’t be the man he needed to be on his own, I would have to take care of it myself.

  I could hear my mother’s calm breathing coming from her room as I passed, telling me she’d already gone to bed. Good, I didn’t want her involved in this at all. My father had retreated to his office after dinner, as he so often did, obsessed with his work.