“We meet here, next to our founding father, to welcome a new initiate into our midst,” he intoned.
I wasn’t convinced that ‘welcome’ was quite the right word for him to use, but I managed to keep my mouth shut.
“Initiate Smith, place your hand onto the book, and then repeat after me.”
I began to rest my palm onto the tome that he was holding and then immediately snatched it away. It felt as if I’d received an electric shock. The Dean’s eyes narrowed at me, so I tried again, this time trying to ignore the painful buzz the book was giving off. I hoped that this was normal and wasn’t something to do with the fact that I wasn’t really a mage and shouldn’t really be here.
“I, Mackenzie Smith,” he began.
“I, Mackenzie Smith,” I dutifully repeated.
“Do swear to uphold the rules and traditions of the Ministry of Mages.”
“Do swear to uphold the rules and traditions of the Ministry of Mages.”
“I shall not abuse my power but shall instead seek to fulfill the precepts of the mage covenant
of altruism, benevolence and compassion.”
I almost choked at those words – where was the altruism, benevolence or compassion as far as Mrs Alcoon was concerned? However, I managed to get them out of my mouth without drawing too much attention to myself. The Dean continued on, laying out a range of rules and concepts that I was now bound to follow. The majority seemed to involve making sure that I followed orders. I sighed inwardly. I probably wasn’t going to be particularly good at that part.
The sky was lightening with just the merest tinge of red in the east, when he finally finished and lowered his head. “Congratulations, Initiate Mackenzie.”
“Thank you,” I replied automatically.
His lips curled almost imperceptibly for a moment, and then he brushed past me, heading back towards the school building. His entire entourage followed.
Mage Thomas stayed behind and raised his eyebrows at me. “Well, well, well.”
“What?” I snapped. I think up until this point I’d been hoping that someone would jump out from behind a bush and tell me that they’d made mistake and they’d let me off. Now that I’d taken the oath, there was no turning back.
“I believe it’s time for breakfast. I will show you to the dining room, and then you should prepare for your first lessons.”
My soul lightened immediately. At least if I could get some coffee down me then I’d start to feel a bit more human. Human probably wasn’t the right word, but I didn’t dwell too long on that part, instead I just followed (again) quickly at the mage’s heels.
*
The dining hall was already busy when we arrived. Mage Thomas dumped me as soon as he could, without making any apologies or further explanations, so I headed straight for a large welcoming looking urn and poured myself a beautifully thick and gloopy mug of caffeine, then picked up a muffin and sat down.
I was just savouring the bitter coffee when someone shouted in my ear.
“Oh my fucking founder! What the hell have you done to your hair?”
It was Mary.
“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.
“You’ve s
haved it all off! Jeez! Is it, like, some kind of protest? I mean, I know you didn’t really want to be here that much but it was so beautiful!”
Several unpleasant slots clicked into place. “So I don’t have to be bald to be an initiate, then?”
“What? No! Who the…?” Her voice trailed off suddenly, and her gaze fell on that bastard Thomas who was at the other side of the room in deep conversation with someone else. “Oh.”
I carefully put the coffee down on the table in front of me. The flames inside were roaring, licking their way up through my intestines and seeping out through my skin. My vision was darkening, but I was
still dimly aware of flickers of green flame sparking at my fingertips. I stood up, pushing the chair back.
“Uh, Mackenzie…” started Mary.
“It’s Mack,” I said calmly.
“Mack, I don’t think this is a very good idea.”
I ignored her. Several heads were starting to turn in my direction and the buzz of conversation was hushing. I ignored that also. I began to walk over to the mage with single-minded determination. When I was about halfway across the room, he realised what was going on. He turned and faced me, whilst his companion backed away. I shot out a stream of green fire towards him, which he blocked with one hand. It didn’t matter. I just kept on walking.
“You’ve ju
st taken an oath, Initiate Mackenzie,” the prick called out, “it would be wise to re-consider your actions.”
Only because he knew I was about to beat him. There had been nothing in the oath about not taking revenge once provoked.
I flicked out another jet of green flame. Again, he blocked it, this time answering back with his own blue fire. It hit me dead on in the chest, making me gasp, but I swallowed down the pain and focused instead on the fire inside me. He let out some more attacks, his face impassive. A couple of the shots slowed me down, but they weren’t really going to stop me.
When I was a few scant feet away from him
, I eyeballed him and hissed, “Did you really think you could get away with this?”
“You’re talking about your hair, right? It’s not my fault if you’re such a gullible bitch that you’d fall for something that stupid.”
My bloodfire blazed. I leapt in the air, kicking out one leg and catching him on his chin so that his head snapped back, then sent one punch to his midsection leaving him doubled over. Several other mages who were clearly trainers rather than students hastily got to their feet to stand beside him, each one with their attack fire gleaming on their palms.
“My fight is not with you,” I growled. “But if you get in my way, then I will take you down.”
They didn’t answer, but instead looked at each other as if in silent communication and then, all at once, sent out a stream of blue flames towards me. Their fire combined into one deadly shot, but I somersaulted in the air and to the side, letting it miss me completely. By the sounds of things it did some rather catastrophic damage to the tables behind me, however I stayed focused on the real action.
I kicked over some of the tables in front of me so that they formed a barrier between myself and the gang of bully mages. I sensed, rather than saw, a flicker of fire coming at me from the left so I sprang backwards to avoid it, then sent out my own green answer. The yelp of pain assured me that my flank was covered, so I turned the spray of flame onto the tables, setting each one alight and creating a wall of hot light through which Thomas’ friends couldn’t get through.
Three of them began to concentrate on my barricade, attempting to douse the flames with their own, whilst the others began to send out a steady stream towards me. A section caught my shoulder, knocking me backwards, but my hand found a plate on the floor and, as I scrambled back up, I sent it flying towards the trapped mages, hitting one smack bang on the middle of his forehead. There was no thought now; it was pure adrenaline and fire. I reached out for more plates and sent them out towards the others, one after the other. Every time one connected, I was rewarded with a gasp or shout or scream of angered pain. Good.
I focused back on Thomas, who was still doubled over on the floor. I took a running jump and leapt over my own flames, then twisted my body so
I was behind him, and pulled the crook of my arm around his neck, beginning to squeeze. He choked and gurgled but I yanked harder.
“You’re going to pay, Thomas,” I snarled.
He answered with a gasp. I tightened my grip even further. There was a pounding in my ears. The heat in my veins and arteries was almost overwhelming. I looked out across the room. It seemed that everyone had left, abandoning the scene as soon as they had realised what was going on. I could vaguely make out shouts from outside as no doubt reinforcements were being mobilised. My eyes fell across to Mary, who was still standing where I’d left her, a lone silent figure surrounded by the carnage and debris of over-turned tables and smashed china. Her eyes were filled with horror, and what gallingly appeared to be pity. A tiny tendril of sanity made its way through my brain. Fuck. I released the mage and he fell forward onto the floor, clutching at his neck and gasping for breath. Then I sat down on the floor next to the prone and groaning bodies and covered my face with my hands.
Chapter Three
I assumed that the door
to my little bedroom where I’d been frog-marched back to by a posse of grim faced mages was locked. Regardless, I didn’t bother trying it. How could I have lost control so utterly and completely? I moved my hand up to my hair to run my fingers through it in an almost unconscious movement, then remembered I had no hair left and my hand fell back down to my side. The narrow bed I was sitting on felt just as uncomfortable as it had the night before. I tripped through everything in my mind again. I had indeed been an idiot to fall for Thomas’ trick. All the signs had been there that he’d been fooling me; I just hadn’t paid enough attention. To attack him though…that was beyond the pale. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold. I supposed that only worked when you weren’t blazing hot inside.
I curled my fingers into a fist and punched the mattress. All I’d had to do was to keep my mouth shut and my head down. Now the mages were probably going to fling me out or put me in prison or something and I’d never manage to get Mrs
. Alcoon freed. I couldn’t see any way out, and I couldn’t envision any way in which I could talk myself out of this. Perhaps if I told them what I really was they’d be more understanding. But I doubted it. They’d probably then be even more keen to make sure that I never saw the light of day ever again. There wasn’t anyone I could call on for help this time; I was truly on my own and it was completely my own fault.
I pushed off the bed and began to pace up and down like a caged cat. The room was
so small that I could barely take four paces; every time I reached a wall I lashed out and slammed my fist into it before turning on my heel and doing the same thing again. Before too long my knuckles were bleeding. For a moment I wondered if Solus, the Fae who had tracked me through my blood back in Inverness, could sense what was happening through the mages’ wards. It didn’t really matter if he could, however. He’d refused to come within half a mile of the Ministry building so it was unlikely he’d try to get anywhere near here either. I’d lost count of the amount of times that I went backwards and forwards by the time there was finally a knock on the door. I immediately stilled and pulled my shoulders back. It was time to face the music. Taking a deep breath, I went to the door and opened it. It was the Arch-Mage.
He stared at me s
ilently for several moments. I tried to return his gaze, but ended up dropping my eyes to the floor. He’d given me a chance and I’d blown it.
After what seemed to be an eternity, he finally spoke. “So, it seems that you’ve gotten yourself into quite a lot of bother. I have to admit, I’d rather hoped that you’d manage to hold out longer than a day.” He stepped inside the tiny room. “So what do you have to say for yourself? The Dean is really rather keen that you never darken his door ever again.”
My cheeks warmed involuntarily. “I’m sorry. I just have a bad temper. I flipped out and I know I shouldn’t have. I’ll accept whatever punishment you choose, but you can’t take this out on Mrs. Alcoon. It’s not her fault. I’ll do anything and go anywhere, just please let her go.”
“We’ve been through this. The deal was that you went through training so that we know you can control your impulses and your magic
, and then we’d take the spell off. There doesn’t seem to be very much control in the slightest on your part. By the founder, you only just took the oath less than thirty minutes before you attacked a mage without any provocation!”
I lifted my head. “That’s not fair! I was provoked! He tricked me into shaving off my hair. I was just trying to do what I was told so that I could be a good initiate. When I found out it was all just a joke on his part, I got angry. That’s all.”
The Arch-Mage stared at me. “Do you mean to tell me that I had to interrupt a council meeting to come all the way here because of a little hazing? I thought you were tougher than that.”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
He sighed heavily and sat down on the bed then, apparently appreciating how uncomfortable it was, changed his mind and stood back up. “The thing is that I’m sure you mean that right now. But if you can’t even control your temper, then all this is for naught. What happens next time you feel provoked? The point of you being here is to learn control so that you don’t misuse your power. It appears that all you are really learning, Miss Smith, is how to be as violent as possible.”
“Please,” I said in a very small voice. “She’s depending on me. I really will be good.”
He stared at me for a long moment while I held my breath. I knew that the Arch-Mage was a decent sort; our previous encounter in London when I’d broken into the Ministry had proven that. But I also knew that I hadn’t given him all that many options after almost killing one of his mages. I could well imagine that the Ministry, 99% per of whom were already baying for my blood as it was, were putting extraordinary pressure on him to deal with me once and for all.