Familiar Magic (Druid Enforcer Academy Book 1) Read online

  I picked up my reins and slowed Stormclaw, turning him again and touching him down to the ground in a steady trot, ball held aloft in one hand, to cheers and applause. I tossed the ball to a grinning Ryder.

  “Not bad, Eldridge,” he said. “I guess they weren’t exaggerating about you. What position do you ride?”

  “Right wing.”

  “It’s yours.”

  “You sure about that, Ryder?” one of the other riders asked, frowning. “Xavier won’t be happy.”

  “Xavier isn’t here,” Ryder said. “Again. And he couldn’t ride like that if his father bought him fifty gryffs. You’re on the team, Lyssa.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sadly, not every aspect of the druid world came as easily to me as riding. Actually, most of them didn’t, and top of that list was Spellcrafting. I’d spent three years blaming Atherton and his obsessive hatred of me for my failures, but by the time I was halfway through my third private session with Glenn, Krakenvale’s Spellcrafting instructor, I was starting to suspect I’d just been passing the buck.

  “Well, it’s not bad…” Glenn said.

  I groaned and lowered my hand. The mist dissipated and the flame it had been surrounding flickered more freely – the only sign at all that it had been freed from a spell. Glenn was being overly generous. It was like saying the Titanic hadn’t been a bad attempt at shipbuilding.

  “You just need a little more practice.”

  I glanced over at him. His long, lean face was arranged into an expression of sympathy, something I wasn’t used to seeing in a spellcrafting lesson. Glenn was an unusual looking man, by the academy’s standards. Most of them favoured shorter, cropped hairstyles, whereas Glenn’s long straggly and thinning black hair was tied back, and physically most of them at least looked fit and strong. Glenn’s body, though it was clear he’d been fit in his youth, had softened, and the wrinkles set into his face only emphasised that. Still, his eyes were bright and non-judgemental as he watched me, which was better than I had any right to deserve.

  “I’m wasting your time,” I said, with another look at the candle. “I can’t even cast a simple freezing spell.”

  “It’s my time to waste,” he said with an easy shrug. “But I think you’re selling yourself short. The flame slowed that time. Your spell is doing something, just…”

  “Not enough?”

  “Exactly.” He nodded like that was something to be proud of, instead of acknowledging that the flame was about as far from being frozen solid as it was possible to be.

  “You said last week that there are over two hundred spells we need to master to qualify as enforcers.”

  “Ah. So that’s what you want to be, is it?”

  I shrugged and picked at my nails.

  “Maybe.”

  It sounded stupid to admit it out loud – to choose the most dangerous and male dominated branch of an already dangerous and male dominated career.

  “I’d have thought you’d be more cut out for Mundane Liaison work. You know, given your upbringing.”

  “I didn’t come here to learn how to cover up magic. I might have been raised by mundanes, but I faced off against Raphael nine months ago, and I survived. I fought in battles and I won.”

  A smile crept onto Glenn’s creased face. “Ah, there it is. A bit of self-worth. Try the spell again. Hold on to that feeling.”

  I eyed him for a moment, not entirely a fan of being manipulated like that, but he was the instructor. If this was what he thought it would take, I was game for giving it a go. I turned my attention to the flame and raised one hand at a thirty-degree angle.

  “Laigh foil!”

  I focused on the determination and self-belief coiled in my stomach and willed the flame to freeze. Mist rose and swirled around the candle. The flame’s flickers slowed, and became less sinuous, like melted chocolate setting in cool air.

  “That’s it. Tilt your hand a little less.”

  I adjusted the angle of my palm and the mist gathered more intently around the flame. I furrowed my brow in concentration, muttering the spellwords under my breath as I wove more and more magic into the spell. The flame stiffened further until it barely moved, and I could feel the magic connecting me to the mist around it like a yarn, being drawn longer and tighter as it wound my spell around the flame, and finer and tighter still until I was so focused that I was barely even breathing, and the room was heavy with anticipation.

  And then the thread snapped.

  The magic rushed back into me with all the force of a punch and I gasped, staggering back. The mist vanished and the flame flickered with renewed vigour. I reached a hand of the wall behind me to steady myself and sighed heavily.

  “So much for that.”

  “You’ll get it. You just need–”

  “More practice?”

  He nodded. “I think we should consider increasing your private sessions from once a week to… more. Maybe three times a week?”

  I gnawed at my lip, and after a moment, shook my head. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get the hang of this stuff, or even put in the hard work, it was just…

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m already pretty stretched with Familiamancy, and I have Itealta practice, I just don’t have the time.”

  “Twice a week then,” Glenn said, and raised an eyebrow when I opened my mouth to object. “I know your hobbies are important to you, but this is your career we’re talking about, and I really do think you would benefit from the extra session.”

  I stopped the scowl that sprung up in response to him dismissing Itealta as a hobby before it reached my face. He was right. It was just a hobby now. And sure, one I loved, but I’d made my choice when I accepted my position here. I nodded.

  “Okay. Twice a week. Thanks, Glenn. I really do appreciate your help.”

  “Go on, you’d best head down to the canteen. It closes at seven. I’ll see you back here on Tuesday.”

  I nodded my thanks, grabbed my cloak, and headed for the door. Intense magic like that always left me ravenous. It was something to do with replenishing all the energy used to create the magic needed for the spells, apparently. All I knew was that every time I finished up a training session with Glenn, I had an appetite that would have put a werewolf to shame. I only hoped it meant we were making some progress, because the rest of the trainees had started to notice that I wasn’t up to scratch in our lectures, and over the last couple of weeks I’d earned a few more nicknames besides ‘Zeke’, and none of them were particularly flattering.

  But at least the guys on the Itealta team had my back – not least because they thought with me and Stormclaw flying right wing, they might finally have a chance to snatch back some glory from the Sironan Academy of Healing. Or at least avoid another crushing defeat.

  When I got to the canteen there was no queue, probably because there was only twenty minutes until they closed. Good thing it only took the kitchen mage thirty seconds to whip up the food. I asked for meatballs because I figured they wouldn’t take long to eat, and a latte because I needed to indulge a little.

  I was about to grab an empty table in the corner when someone waved me over from the other side of the room. For a moment I thought about ignoring him, but then, he already had half the academy convinced I was a coward: I didn’t need to prove his point for him by backing down with a dozen people watching.

  I swaggered over to Xavier’s table with as much nonchalance as I could muster, which wasn’t a whole lot since I was still a little shaky after the backlash of my failed spell with Glenn, but that wasn’t likely to improve until I ate something.

  “Hi, Xavier,” I said, setting my tray down on his table. “I hadn’t realised you were so desperate for company.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Zeke.”

  “Oh? Were you calling someone else over?” I lifted my latte to my lips and took a sip, watching him over the rim. There was an empty plate pushed to one side, and Xavier had a half empty bottle of water in front o
f him. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d been waiting around for me. He scowled at me – his customary expression when looking in my direction.

  “You should show some respect to your betters.”

  “I will, as soon as one shows up.”

  I smiled sweetly, ignoring the churning in my guts, and set the latte down. Riling Xavier wasn’t a good idea – but it was a whole lot of fun. Fun that was bound to come back to bite me later, if his expression was anything to go by. I was making him look bad in front of his friends. We were alone at the table, but I recognised a couple of the figures lurking nearby. He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of them.

  Then again, maybe he should stop trying to stir up trouble for me. I’d be the bigger person later. Right now, I was tired and hungry, and more than a little frustrated, and if sassing Xavier was going to take the edge off, well, it was cheaper than therapy.

  Xavier’s eye twitched, and he curled his hand into a fist around the bottle cap.

  “Is it your temper you need my help with, Xavier? Because I think they have a guidance counsellor for that.”

  “I don’t need your help with anything, Zeke.”

  I rolled my eyes and sliced a meatball in half.

  “Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? Because I’ve been called worse, you know.”

  “There is nothing worse than being a coward.”

  “If you say so.” I shrugged and chewed my food. He’d get to the point sooner or later, and if he thought I was going to creep up to him until he did, then he knew even less about me than he thought.

  After a moment of silence, he seemed to realise I wasn’t going to do the legwork in this conversation for him.

  “You stole my spot on the Itealta team.”

  I laughed. “Is that what this is about? You’re upset that I outrode you?”

  “You didn’t outride me.” He ground his teeth together and glared at me.

  “If you keep that up, you’re going to crack a molar,” I said. “But I suppose you’re right – I didn’t outride you.”

  He looked a bit smug at my admission. Like I said, he really didn’t know me at all.

  “I mean, for me to outride you, you’d actually have had to show up and put the work in, wouldn’t you?” I cocked my head. “You’re not really a fan of that, are you?”

  “My father bought me a new gryff yesterday. He’s sending him up here this weekend. So you might as well just resign your spot on the team.”

  I smiled and set down my fork. “If you want my spot on the team, you’re going to have to take it from me.”

  “Oh, I will.” His lips twisted into a smirk. “That gryff cost more than you earn in a year – even with all the money Cauldwell paid you to visit your father. Oh, sorry, don’t you like it when people call him that?”

  My food stuck in a lump in my throat and I forced it down painfully. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised that Xavier knew my relation to Raphael – though I preferred the term ‘sperm donor’ to ‘father’. My father, the one who had raised me, and taught me right from wrong, was a lawyer from Georgia, and he was twice the man Raphael would ever be.

  And none of that mattered to the druids here. Xavier had that smug look back on his face.

  “I suppose you wouldn’t want that getting out, would you, Zeke? Not only are you a coward, but you’re the daughter of a convicted criminal. Can’t imagine that would go down very well round here. But it doesn’t have to come to that.”

  He leaned back in his chair.

  “Just walk away from your position on the Itealta position, and I’ll keep it to myself.”

  “Oh, so it’s blackmail, is it?” I put another piece of meatball in my mouth and forced it down. I’d lost my appetite, but I didn’t want him to know that. Xavier hooked his hands behind his head, already gloating over his victory. If nothing else, I was going to enjoy wiping that look off his face.

  I set my fork down and put my knife next to it, taking my time, and then met his eye across the table.

  “Let’s be clear about something, Xavier,” I said. “If you want my spot on the team, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

  His smug smile slipped, and I carried on.

  “You’re right. Raphael’s my father. Go ahead, you can tell everyone. I’ll do it for you, if you want. But there’s one thing you should bear in mind. Everything I’ve achieved over the last three years is in spite of who my father is, not because of it.”

  His hands dropped down and balled into fists.

  “I didn’t have to buy my way in here,” I said, still holding eye contact. “And I didn’t have to buy my spot on the team. So if you want it, come and get it.”

  I got to my feet and picked up my tray.

  “You’re going to regret this, Eldridge.”

  Yeah, I had a feeling he was right about that.

  Chapter Twelve

  Xavier took rejection about as well as any spoilt rich brat with powerful parents, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise to me when news about my relation to Raphael was all round the academy by the following morning. Krakenvale was like Dragondale in more than just magic – with a couple of hundred trainees cooped up in the same place, it was a hotbed of gossip.

  I kept my head down at breakfast, but that didn’t stop me hearing the whispers, and catching the stares directed my way every time I looked away from my bowl. And worst of all was self-satisfied, smug look on Xavier’s face – he stuck around in the canteen long enough to make sure he got a good opportunity to gloat.

  “Just ignore them,” Kyle said. “They’ll get bored soon.”

  “Yeah, been there before,” I said, slumping over the table.

  “I could burn his eyebrows off, if you like,” Zara said cheerfully. “Healing magic doesn’t grow hair back. And honestly, if we’ve got to look at that face all day, we might as well make it amusing, right?”

  I sniggered into my bowl of cereal. The idea of Xavier having to walk around for the next month with no eyebrows was undeniably cheering.

  “Well, it would give everyone something else to talk about,” Kyle said, a slight smile softening his usually sombre expression.

  “Thanks. For not abandoning me. You still can, you know.”

  “Nah, you’re okay,” Zara said, draining the dregs of her coffee cup. “I’m still enjoying not being the oddest one here.”

  Her eyes drifted to fix on something behind me. I twisted round, half-expecting to see Xavier standing there, possibly about to pour something unpleasant over my head, so I was pleasantly surprised by what I did see.

  “Oh, hey Ryder. Want a seat?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t stop.”

  He looked uneasy, and the smile fell from my face.

  “Alright, spill it. What’s the bad news?”

  “Look, I’m sorry, it’s the others. They, uh…” He stared down at his feet as he scuffed them across the floor, then had the decency to meet my eye. “If it was just me, I’d keep you on the team. You and Stormclaw, you’re great, but…”

  “You’re kicking me off the team?” I stared at him, not quite believing what I was hearing.

  “They had a vote, and they want Xavier back. I’m sorry.”

  “Is this because of Raphael? Dammit, Ryder, I’m a better rider than he is – you saw that. We’ve got a much better chance of topping the league if I’m on the team, and you know it.”

  “I do know it. And between you and me, I’d much rather have you on the team than that smug prick. But the others have seen his new gryff, and then with the news about, you know…”

  “Raphael,” I ground out. “You can say it. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I can’t control who my father is.”

  “I know, I’m–”

  “If you say you’re sorry one more time–” I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Getting angry at Ryder wasn’t going to help me. “Look, if this is really about Xavier’s new gryff, let me show
the others we’re still better than him. It’s a risk having me on the team, I get that. But we’re worth taking the chance on. We’ll prove it.”

  “Prove it how?”

  The fact he hadn’t shot me down gave me at least some hope. I thought quickly.

  “A race,” I said. “Me against Xavier.”

  He hesitated. “You know what? They might just go for it. We’ll have to chuck in a couple of Itealta techniques, of course…”

  “Of course,” I agreed, my voice calm in contrast with my racing heart. They had to give me a chance. They had to.

  “Alright. I’ll talk to them. I can’t promise anything, though.”

  “Thanks, Ryder. I appreciate it. Truly.”

  He hurried off, and I ducked my head again, poking at my cereal with my spoon. If I lost my position on the team…

  “Smug prick looking your way,” Zara said from the corner of her mouth. I looked round and flashed him a grin that was all teeth. His smile faltered into a frown, and he cut off whatever he was saying mid-word. Good. Let him think I wasn’t bothered by his little stunt. It was out of my hands now, anyway. I just had to hope that Ryder could convince the rest of the team to go along with the race. I had no idea how good Xavier’s new gryff was, but Stormclaw was fast, and we trusted each other. We’d at least have a chance, which was better than the alternative.

  “I can’t believe he would pull a stunt like that,” Zara said. “Telling everyone about your– about Raphael is bad enough, but getting you kicked off the team? Bastard.”

  “I’m not off the team yet. And I’m going to make sure it stays that way. I’ll catch you guys later. I’m going to go train with Stormclaw.”

  I grabbed my tray and got up, taking it to the counter – part of my keeping the kitchen mage sweet plan – and quickly drained the dregs from my mug.

  “Lyssa Eldridge?”

  The voice came from behind me and I rolled my eyes. Like there was anyone left round here who didn’t know who I was by now.

  “Yes, clearly.” I turned around and fixed the guy with my most unimpressed stare. He looked completely unfazed, which wasn’t exactly flattering. People really were buying into that whole ‘Zeke’ nickname Xavier had put about. I was going to have to do something about that soon.