Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #5)

Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #5) Page 11

I recalled trying to impress Katie Johnson with my live-action role playing skills, complete with foam sword and shield, and ended up getting my entire squad killed by the enemy team. "You know, I think you're onto one of those universal truths with that one."

"I remember a time or two where my attempts to impress a girl went awry," Miles said while cleaning his glasses on a handkerchief. "I once tried summoning a demon, but instead brought forth a minor non-sentient entity called a skruk that defecated all over the floor and urinated all over Clarissa Dickson's boyfriend before I was able to banish it." He chuckled. "Oh, you should have seen her face after that." He sighed and looked into the distance. "She never did talk to me again."

I stared in horror at Miles, wondering what in the world ever made summoning a demon a good idea. "That's terrible."

He sighed. "Yes, I know. It's not very nice to ignore someone like that." Miles clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Well, shall we get started?" He hummed to himself as he pointed his wand at a candle and sent it floating to a table sitting in an area configured like a target range. "Light that candle, if you don't mind, Justin."

I'd done this sort of thing plenty of times, though it usually ended up with a molten pile of wax and a blazing table afterward. I looked at Shelton. He winked, nodded his head. I knew from doing this drill over and over that I didn't need to draw in any aether, since it only took precise focus and concentration to pull off. I was as precise as a bulldozer. I stared at the candle. Drawing upon my well, I pointed my practice wand at the candle and whispered, "Hadouken."

A fireball the size and shape of my fist blasted toward the candle. It zipped through the air in a streak of flame, brushing the top of the candle, and splashing against the stone wall behind the table with a whoosh. I clenched my teeth, ready to curse my ineptitude, when I noticed the candle burning despite missing an inch of wax near the top.

"Hmm," Miles said and made a note on a scrap of parchment. "Now, Justin, blow out the candle."

I was tempted to use my supernatural lung capacity to do the trick, but figured Miles wouldn't go for it. Narrowing my eyes at the flickering flame, I drew on my well, focused my will, and pointed my wand at the candle while whispering, "Ventus." A gust of wind knocked the table over and sent the candle flipping end-over-end to land on the floor ten feet away from its original position.

Again, Miles made a thoughtful sound and marked something down on his parchment. I imagined, at this point, his words described the hopelessness of my magical education.

Over the next hour, he asked me to do things which, on the surface, seemed simple, but in reality were anything but. Most of them, I flat out didn't know how to do. Shelton and Bella hadn't gotten that far with me, so I only stood there with a constipated look on my face while I tried to levitate a feather and later tried to animate a stick figure made of toothpicks. By the time it was all over, I was sweating like a pregnant yak and ready to run screaming from the room.

We followed Miles to his office where he ran his wand over me, quirked an eyebrow as a similarly ambiguous readout floated in the air before him as it had for the security guard at the doors to Queens Gate.

"How odd," he said and made some notes. "You are Daemos?"

I nodded. "And part human. My mom is an Arcane." I didn't dare tell him the truth of the matter.

"I see." He stared at the parchment with his notes, most of which probably declared me magically incompetent and of questionable lineage, to boot. After a few minutes, he finally spoke. "Harry was quite right, my boy. You are gifted, but lack control in any sense of the word." He delivered the evaluation without a hint of condescension or derisiveness in his voice. "I suggest remediation for the time being, and we'll check on your progress by the end of the semester." He laid the parchment on the table and looked at Shelton. "Do you agree, Harry?"

Shelton shrugged. "You hit the nail on the head."

"Indeed." The professor looked at the parchment again. "His usage is well above ordinary. I would go so far as to say it is extraordinary, but he simply uses far too much for small tasks."

"What about all the stuff I couldn't do?" I said. "The feather, that stick figure…" I trailed off, not really wanting to review the complete roster of tasks I'd been unable to perform.

Miles smiled. "Most new students barely complete half the tests unless they attended other academies before coming here."

His words made me feel somewhat better. At least I wasn't the only failure. "Is everyone here my age and older?"

He chuckled. "This is an Arcane institution and quite unlike the nom educational equivalent. We admit students as early as age ten, depending on their potential. There are many basic skills students must learn before ever attempting magic, and, in most cases, young Arcanes don't even exhibit talent until age eleven or twelve."

"They couldn't find him a dorm room, Professor," Shelton said, his tone unusually respectful toward the man. "You wouldn't happen to know of any openings, would you?"

Miles frowned thoughtfully and pulled a large book from a shelf behind his desk. He set it on the table and looked at it for a moment before shaking his head. "This book is linked to the primary dorm roster, and I'm afraid it's showing everything is quite full." He sighed. "I would offer Justin lodging at my house, but the administration frowns on such things unless it's for family members." Another sigh. "A shame really. They assigned me such a roomy house, one which my family hardly fills."

"You could adopt me," I said with a hopeful grin.

He laughed. "Yes, well, as your advisor, I will keep a keen eye on the roster and let you know of any openings in housing. I will also have your schedule ready on the morn." He held out his hand.

I gripped it and received a firm shake.

"Congratulations, Justin. You're officially a student at Arcane University."

After leaving Miles, Shelton and I headed toward the sky car.

"So, I actually did okay?" I asked him. "I thought I sucked."

He chuckled. "I'm proud of you. It was a little hairy there, but you did more than most beginners." He kicked a loose stone with his boot. "I think going through remedial classes is just what you need. Maybe by reviewing them in a formal setting, you'll pick up on something Bella and I overlooked."

I thought back to high school and how well I'd done in my classes. Maybe there was something to be said about being squeezed through the same educational process as everyone else that would put my brain back on track. On the other hand, ice throbbed through the veins in my leg, and it was all I could do not to limp. I chalked up the pain to being so tired, but a stab of fear took me in the chest as I wondered if the vampling curse was fighting the potion.

We reached the sky car shuttle back to the valley and jumped in just as the doors slid shut behind us. Two men in black Arcane robes stood to our right, scrutinizing us as we took seats on the opposite end. As the vehicle shifted into motion, the motion caused the men to sway to the sides, briefly revealing a man in clothing that looked like a cross between a business suit and a robe.

I felt Shelton stiffen next to me the same moment I saw the other man's eyes widen.

"Oh, crap," Shelton said, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on the armrest.

The other man stood, walked between his bodyguards. "Harry?"

Shelton took a deep breath. Sighed. Looked up at the other man and snarled, "Hey, Dad."

Chapter 9

I felt my mouth hang open as those words hit my ears. The two men looked almost nothing alike. "You have a dad?" I said, the words tumbling from my lips.

Shelton gave me a look. "What kind of dumbass question is that? Everyone has a dad." He stood and gave the other man a stony look. "What brings you to the university?"

The other man looked at Shelton, as if trying to divine what emotions lay behind his son's rigid exterior. "Work. I'm making a tour of the schools, to assure everyone the council is doing everything in its power to keep kids safe, especially with the Grand Melee coming. The vampires have left us no choice but to prepare for any eventuality." He looked at me and held out a hand. "I'm Jarrod Sager."

I stood, feeling even more confusion frazzle my brain. "The Arcanus Primus?"

"Yeah, he's a big shot," Shelton said with a shrug.

I shook the man's hand. "But your last names are different."

"Long story," Shelton said, giving me a narrow-eyed look, clearly indicating I should just shut my mouth.

"Uh, I'm Justin," I said, trying to think up a new fake last name in case he asked. The name Slade was too well known.

Jarrod's eyes shined with recognition anyway. "Justin Slade." His voice was even and neutral, but I could sense something else behind it. "I've wanted to meet you for a while. But after what happened here and in Colombia, you dropped off the map."

"Uh, what makes you think I'm Justin Slade?"

He offered a practiced smile. "Your name and appearance has gained some infamy in Overworld politics. Why, in the last Conclave meeting, the vampires tried to ram through a vote removing Thomas Borathen as commander of the Templars and calling for your arrest for crimes against super-humanity."

"The Conclave can't do squat to the Templars," Shelton said. "Choosing their leaders is an internal matter. And Justin did what the vampires didn't have the balls to do to Maximus."

The Primus folded his arms. "The Daemos are about the only supernatural nation keeping quiet about you. Then again, they prefer subtle manipulations."

"What about the Arcanes?" I said, doing my level best to keep my voice steady and neutral even though I'd never heard anyone summarize the consequences of being me in such a methodical fashion. "What do they have to say about me?"