The Arch-Mage’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t forget that you are under my jurisdiction.”
Despite his occasional friendly overtures, the Arch-Mage was certainly no pushover.
“How could I forget that?” I said irritably. “You’ve still got Mrs. Alcoon trapped in stasis.”
“You know the terms,” he said sternly.
“And you know that it should be becoming clear that I’m no mage. Therefore there’s no need to worry about me going rogue. So there’s no need to make me stay at the academy.”
“And yet you managed to invoke inveniora only just last week. Therefore there is indeed magic inside you.”
I grimaced inwardly. I was damned if I did show signs of magic and damned if I didn’t. My thoughts flicked to the potential existence of the spell book that could solve all my – and Mrs. Alcoon’s - current problems. Bugger. It was such a bad idea and yet so very, very tempting.
The car stopped, pulling up outside the Ministry and waiting for the large heavy gates that I’d once sneaked through to open up. I glanced up towards the building and saw Alex emerging from the front door. He’d obviously be anxious to find out what had happened.
“Last chance,” said the Arch-Mage grimly, as the car drove up the short driveway.
I kept my lips firmly buttoned. He sighed, then got out, marching up to Alex. I stayed in the car for a moment, watching. Alex hung his head, whilst the Arch-Mage’s lips continued to move, obviously berating him. Eventually, he lifted up his chin and said something back. I noted the Arch-Mage’s shoulders pulling back in anger, and as I climbed out of the car, I hoped that I wouldn’t be force to intervene.
“You have to understand, Your Magnificence,” protested Alex, “that you needed to have deniability. You know what’s going on with the council.”
Ah. Did that mean that Alex had spilled the beans then? The pair of them turned to me as I walked up. I looked at Alex and he nodded back ever so slightly. Okay then. I zipped open the clutch’s second compartment and pulled out the Ancile, holding it out.
Alex’s breath exhaled in a whoosh. “You did it. You’re the dude, Mack Attack, you really are.”
The Arch-Mage stared at the thing, before asking, “May I?”
I nodded in the affirmative. I was glad to get it out of my possession. With the luck I had, I’d trip and cut myself and soak the thing with my weird ass blood, and then all hell would break loose.
He turned it over in his hands, examining it. “The similarity with the Palladium is remarkable.” He gave a short laugh. “It’s ridiculous that the wraith and the vampires are desperate to have the Palladium when really this is the object with all the power.”
Alex’s eyes widened in alarm. “Wraith? You mean Tryyl?”
I lifted up a shoulder. “I assume it was Tryyl. You didn’t think to mention before that wraiths can’t be killed and that he was still after his bloody statue.”
“I thought he was out of the picture,” protested Alex. “And anyway, you can kill wraiths, you just need to find the bones of their original human form.”
“It doesn’t really matter,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s only the Palladium that he wants and now that’s in Kingsway. He won’t bother us any more.” I neglected to mention that if we hadn’t managed to switch the two statues when we had, then Tryyl would have been bothering us a very great deal. I felt slightly bad for the vampires, but, hey, they were undead creatures of terror, not all that dissimilar to the wraith in fact. They’d work it out.
The Arch-Mage cleared his throat. “I’ll take this and dispose of it so that there are no further problems.”
Relieved, both Alex and I nodded vigorously. Yes, thank the gods, please do.
He fixed a stern look upon the pair of us. “But don’t ever attempt to do anything like this again. I appreciate that your intentions were pure, however your actions could have caused irreparable damage.”
I opened my mouth to retort that we’d actually saved the fucking day, but Alex nudged me hard so I snapped it shut again. The Arch-Mage turned on his heel and headed inside the front door of the Ministry head-quarters. Alex put up his hand. Not really my thing, I thought, but…I jumped up and high-fived him. We grinned at each other.
“And that’s the end of that,” he said, happily.
“Amen.”
Chapter Nineteen
The next day the skies were grim and overcast, reflecting back a dull grey sheen across everything. However, my own mood couldn’t be dampened by the weather and, in total contrast to the weak washed out colours of the world, I felt sunny and chirpy. Alex’s Palladium problem had been solved, Solus was on his way to doing my work on translating the Fae Fire book for me and I now had nothing to concentrate on or worry about apart from actually starting to learn some proper magic stuff and then getting the hell out of the academy.
I was overwhelmingly tempted to see if I could indeed find the spell book that would enable me to provide Mrs. Alcoon with her freedom a whole five years before it was theoretically due, however my current misgivings about the end result that such a project might entail meant that I was prepared to stick to my word and, at the very least, give the actual studying part a shot. Maybe I’d even work out how to reverse the spell on my own. It was amazing what one good night’s sleep could do to provide clarity, I thought, while wandering out to the back of the academy gardens for my postponed teaching session. Similarly, I’d managed to compartmentalise the annoying niggles about Corrigan and put them away deep inside me, including his knee-weakening kiss, at least for now. In fact, I was starting to wonder whether coming to the academy might be the best thing that had ever happened to me.
Even Mary seemed to notice the difference, as she commented when she caught up with me. “You’re just less prickly, Baldilocks. I don’t feel like you’re going to spontaneously bite the head off the nearest person any more.”
Of course, she put it down to her genius action of bestowing me with a nickname. Deborah, who appeared a few minutes later, seemed to think that it was more to do with the contented feeling of ‘lurve’, as she described it. However, even her insinuations that I was an all round calmer person thanks to the attentions of Corrigan rather than anything I had achieved myself, didn’t put a dent in my relaxed state. The events of the night before seemed a lifetime away and, by the time that Brock and Aqmar bounded up, all eager to begin round two, I was beaming in satisfaction as Deborah and Mary hurled themselves at each other, trying to catch the other off balance.
Aqmar grinned his usual boyish hello, whilst Brock smiled shyly. I set them off on the same exercise as the girls, and then stood back and watched. After a while, it became patently clear that the four of them were purely relying on luck, rather than skill or observation, to land their hits. I interrupted them all and got them to sit down in a row on the damp grass and pay attention. This had always been Tom’s failing too.
“You need to keep your body from betraying you,” I said seriously. “If your opponent pays enough attention, then they will know where you are going to hit next, and they’ll not only get out of your way but also have the opportunity to hit you back.”
“Aw, man. Baldilocks, this just the same shit that we do in Protection already,” complained Aqmar.
I frowned down at the teenager. “Well, maybe there’s actually a reason why you spend so much time on that sort of stuff.” I thought about Thomas and our t’ai chi chu’an lessons. Maybe we had more in common than we realised. “But if you get this right, then I promise I’ll also show you some attack moves,” I said relenting.
“Far out!” They all look pleased.
Momentarily amused at the impatience of youth, I began. “You tell me,” I said, positioning myself into a typical fight stance. “Where am I going to go next?”
“Right,” said Mary confidently.
“How do you know?” I inquired.
“Uh,” she dissembled. “I don’t, I’m just guessing.”
“Is it left?” asked Deborah.
I relaxed my body for a moment and gazed at them all in exasperation. “You can’t just guess. You have to know. If you don’t know, then don’t say anything.”
I returned to my initial attack position and asked again. “So, which way?”
They stared at me, blank expressions on their faces. Then Brock put up a tentative hand into the air.
“We’re not in school, Brock. You don’t need to do that.”
Slightly flustered he lowered his arm again and coughed. “Backwards. You’re going to go backwards.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Your centre of gravity,” he said, pointing at the lower part of my stomach. “It looks kind of, I dunno, off.”
“Well, let’s see then, shall we?” And with a sudden spring, I flipped backwards, twisting in the air until I landed on my feet in exactly the same position, only now two meters back.
The others broke out into spontaneous applause. I grinned at Brock. “Well done. Now you try it.”
The teenager stood up and took my spot in front of the others. He relaxed his body completely, in a way that I recognised from the philosophy of t’ai chi. However, a tiny muscle throbbed in his right cheek, giving him away. It was a minor tell, and one that not many would notice.
The others still weren’t sure, but I let them try first anyway. When I told him he was going to leap to the left, he appeared particularly deflated.
“It’s a tiny thing, Brock. Your cheek twitches on the right hand side so I know you’re going to head to the left. You just need to practice your facial expressions in the mirror as much as your body language and then you’re there. Not even Thomas will be able to work out which way you’re going then.”
Unfortunately it was completely the wrong thing to say. Brock brightened momentarily at my words, but then so did Deborah when I mentioned Thomas, making Brock sink down back into himself. I cursed my big mouth.
