The Trials of Blackbriar Academy Page 10

  Gideon Storm, headmaster of Blackbriar, appears at the top of a set of stairs that curve downward, along the side of the castle, toward the courtyard. Following him is his group of elites. And I’m not sure I should be surprised that Soren is among them. I am, however, shocked to see Anderson. That energy-sucking creep is the last one I would expect to even come close to being an elite. Compared to him, I prefer Soren.

  Even in his six-foot whatever broodiness, he’s fucking hot as hell. And the way my magic responds to him, there’s more to figure out. I have no idea what it is about me that makes him hate me so much, but I want to figure it out and rectify that before he becomes a problem for me.

  As Gideon passes in front of me, my magic buzzes, strengthens, and I feel like I’m ten-feet tall. Our eyes meet as he passes by. He gives a short nod. My cheeks rush with warmth as I’m thrown into all the dirty little thoughts that should be the furthest thing from my mind again.

  Soren stays too far away for me to feel my magic react to him, and for that, I’m grateful. Jesse and Gideon are enough for one morning.

  My eyes take in the men and women who will mentor us initiates, and I’m left staggered. They are all beautiful. The men are freaking gorgeous, and it suddenly feels unfair to be so talented and have all the looks too.

  It’s sort of… unrealistic, to be honest. But here they are.

  “Initiates,” Gideon says, walking in a path between us and his elites. “These men and women are my best and brightest students. My elites. Each of them will select one of you to mentor and train during your trials. Once you are housed, a new mentor may be selected at that time. Assuming you pass your trials, of course.”

  “Yes, Headmaster,” we all say.

  He nods. “I expect you to absorb all you can from your mentors. You will treat them with respect and honor. However, I understand not every match will work. This is why I give both mentor and initiate the opportunity to bring any grievances to me. I will give one hour to settle whatever disagreement is between you two. If a solution is not met, a new mentor can and will be assigned. Any questions?”

  His eyes glance over every student. When he meets mine, his lips curve up ever so slightly. Almost undetectable. But I notice. I wonder what it is about this man, Gideon Storm, that has my hormones rushing with such naughty desires.

  After a moment of no one volunteering a question, the headmaster nods. “Very well. Let’s begin. Savannah Fey.”

  Immediately a blond, short-for-a-guy elite, steps forward and says, “I volunteer.”

  He’s cute. But that wasn’t the goal, now was it? Savannah certainly seems happy with the pairing.

  “Guess I won’t be needing to ask who will take on this initiate.” Gideon chuckles. The rest of us let out a small laugh as he clears his throat. “Jesse Taylor.”

  Jesse winks at me with a half-cocked grin as he steps forward.

  “Who shall mentor this initiate?” Gideon asks.

  Another elite male, this with light brown hair steps forward. He crushes his knuckles and says. “I volunteer.”

  “Oh, this is going to be fun,” Jesse says, and I worry for him. The guy doesn’t look like he’s going to make it easy, and Jesse is too much of a joker to take much of anything seriously.

  I mean, the elite is cute. But the way this guy holds himself makes me think he and Soren could be best friends. All serious. And Jesse? Let’s just say he has a knack for making everything a joke.

  “Wren Blackwood,” Gideon says, and the sound of my name kicks up the pace of my heartbeat.

  I look to him, and he nods once. Letting out a deep breath, I step forward and catch Soren’s gaze. And he’s a bit too focused on me for my comfort. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and it looks like he’s about to strongarm me and march me off the castle grounds. Probably would, if it were up to him.

  Forcing back a shudder at the mental image conjured, I wonder what the hell I did to this guy. All I can figure is I showed up. Maybe exist in the first place? That last one always seems like the popular vote for most people I encounter.

  Hate and I sort of have a thing. Best buds until the bitter end.

  “Who shall mentor the initiate?” Gideon asks.

  So far, this whole thing feels like all pomp and show. A ritual. As far as I can tell, this school has shown they like those things. They abide by them and put a lot of importance in doing things in a ceremonial way.

  My eyes flit between Soren and Anderson, and I find myself praying to anything out there that’s listening that I don’t get either of them.

  Anderson smiles, his foot lifts from the ground. No sooner than he places that foot forward, Soren steps out. “I volunteer.”

  I’m beside myself. The man who hates me just volunteered to be my mentor. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he beat Anderson to it, but why?

  Anderson’s clearly pissed off, so that’s just icing on the proverbial cake for me. He stares daggers at Soren. I don’t blame the guy on that at least. With Soren’s charming personality and all. What’s not to like?

  But a weight forms in my stomach as the realization fully sets in. Soren chose me to mentor.

  This can’t be good.

  Shoving my curiosities aside, I wait for the rest of the initiates to be assigned their mentors. And before long, everyone has been paired. I follow suit and join my mentor as we face Gideon Storm one more time.

  My magic ignites with the burn of an inner fire as I stand close to Soren, and it’s almost too much for me to wrap my mind around. I don’t know what the hell is going on with me and Soren, much less my magic, but I need to figure it out soon.

  Soren doesn’t seem to notice anything different. At least, he’s not showing a sign, if he does.

  “Mentors, your duty is to your initiate. Train them well. For their success or failure will be measured against you,” Gideon says, raking his gaze from mentor to mentor.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

  My success or failure will be held against Soren. So, if I crash and burn, that’s going to reflect on him. I have the sneaking suspicion that this isn’t his first rodeo. Which means, he knew damn well what he was doing when he took me on.

  I just can’t fathom that.

  “Execute your training immediately. Dismissed.” Gideon’s words travel with the weight of a gavel and I’m suddenly weak in the knees and finding it hard to breathe.

  Slowly, I drag my gaze up to Soren’s who stares at me expectantly. After a moment, he shakes his head and huffs out, “Follow me.”

  Something about the way he said those words makes me think there is something sinister awaiting me wherever it is I’m following him to.

  This makes everything just so much more fabulous.

  Fun times.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Soren is intense.

  I can feel waves of suspicion pouring off him, and needless to say, it’s freaking distracting and starting to piss me off.

  He leads me to a secluded training area—apparently there are twenty of the fifty-foot radius circles on this island, all surrounding the castle, and ten of them with reservations for the mentor-initiate trainings—and we get the one farthest out. He demands I show him what I can do. But I can’t focus for the life of me. With his heavy glares, and my magic’s constant burning from being in proximity of him… I’m a confuddled mess.

  Lucky me.

  “What are you waiting for?” he demands.

  “For you to stop looking at me like you’re going to murder me and to give me some damn space so I can focus.”

  He takes a single step back and crosses his arms over his muscular chest. “You’re not going to get time to ‘focus’ when you’re in the trials. They all have time limits, Wren. You need to show me what you can do so I know how much work I have to do.”

  I sigh. “Fine.”

  “I’ll step this down a little. Give me a ball of light.”

  I nod and square my shoulders and spread my feet a little wid
er. I place my hands in front of me, one over the other, with my abdomen resting in the center. Closing my eyes, I focus on my magic, and feel it pulsing, pooling in my hands. Slowly, I draw it out and focus my intention on creating a small ball of glowing light.

  “Good,” Soren says. “Now, release it.”

  I pull open one eye. “What?”

  He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Did you have any formal training whatsoever?”

  “My father taught me everything I know,” I mutter and bring my legs closer together. The ball of light sputters and sparks as it shrinks into nothing.

  “That,” he says pointing at where the light was just moments ago, “That is what I meant.”

  Oh. Now, I know.

  “Your father taught you magic?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “How much?” He takes a stance in front of me and I wonder just where, exactly, he thinks he is going with this.

  “Not enough, apparently. What are you doing?” I ask as he starts to take a position to cast.

  “Did he teach you how to block attacks with your magic?” He continues his interrogation, avoiding my question.

  Honestly, I don’t remember. “Most of his lessons were the basics. You know, what to do and what not to do. Things like that.”

  “So, you don’t know how to block?” A ball of light forms at his center and I’m nearly frozen in place.

  The only thing I can think of is he really is trying to kill me.

  “Quickly, Wren,” he says. “Can you defend yourself?”

  “Uh… with magic?” I shake my head but it’s too late.

  He shoots the burning ball of energy toward me and I have little options available to me. I do the only thing I can think of and dodge, tossing myself to the ground and rolling into a standing position, all in one motion. The ball of light flies past me, hitting an invisible wall that domes over us, highlighting in beams of white light above us as the energy gets absorbed into the shield.

  I watch in wonder as that happens, and I’m impressed. That is a really clever idea.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” Soren’s voice is flat and disappointed which pulls my attention to him. He narrows his amber eyes on me. “Why come here?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I mean, why come to Blackbriar? Why not another academy? You know this place is for those who have the potential to be among the greatest mages alive. You clearly are in over your head.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

  He thrusts his hands out to the side. “Uh, yeah.”

  “Professor Lawrence doesn’t share that opinion of me. He’s the one who brought me here. But that’s not your concern, is it?” I point at him. “Let’s move on to whatever you have planned next.”

  He looks down his nose at me and huffs. “Fine. Attack me.”

  “With pleasure,” I say and take my casting position again, but he stops me.

  “No. Not like that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as one hand rests on his hip. He’s clearly restraining himself and I can’t understand why. “Hand-to-hand.”

  Oh. Well, if you insist…

  I take a position in front of him, fists at eye level. I move to land a punch to the gut. He expertly knocks my hand out of the way with a block, instantly attacking with a strike to my throat using the side of his hand. I block, front kick, and get blocked.

  “Good.”

  “Did that hurt?” I ask, shocked he complimented me. Generic, sure. But still. Coming from a guy like Soren, who seems to hate my very existence, a compliment had to be difficult.

  “Focus.” He gets a little dirtier with his attacks. I keep up. Mostly. And then his questions continue. “Where did you live before coming here?”

  I throw a side kick as he side-steps out of the way. I throw my elbow back, hoping to land in his nose, but he’s too good and too quick. “Trolls. I lived with a village of trolls in Idaho.”

  He stops. “Bullshit.”

  Panting, I shake my head. He’s not even breathing hard. Not fair. “Wanna bet?”

  He shakes his head, pacing in front of me. “Nope. Don’t buy it.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” I say and take a seat on the grass as my breathing slowly returns to normal. “Are we done with the interrogation or are you still convinced I’m hiding some dire, terrible secret that could undo the fabric of reality?”

  “Stop being dramatic.”

  I shrug. “Says the person who is pacing and hates me for no reason.”

  “I… I don’t trust you. There’s a difference,” he says.

  “Perhaps you should be on the receiving end of your attitude, because I know the difference between hate and distrust. You happen to have both. Why?” I have a feeling this question, like the others, will go unanswered, but eventually he will answer them. Or I’ll find a new mentor.

  “Get up. We need to continue.”

  I sigh and stand. He watches me, and when I catch his gaze I shrug. “Now what?”

  “Show me you can attack with magic.” He goes to stand about five feet in front of me.

  At first, I stare at him like he grew two heads right in front of me. But then, I wonder how often I can take advantage of an invitation like this. If this guy wants to see what I can do. Who am I to stop him?

  So, what the hell? Why not?

  “I’m going to show you the proper way to defend yourself with magic,” he says.

  “I can defend myself with magic. A lot of the time it’s second-nature. Not terminology and step-by-step, like you are asking for.”

  “Attack me.” His voice is firmer this time.

  “Don’t forget you asked.” I smile as I take my casting stance. Once the light is formed, I shoot it out from me. He stands there and starts to perform a spell, moving almost like a dance in front of him. But the light veers to the left and nearly takes off his arm, at least it would’ve if he wasn’t so damn good at avoiding hits. The ball of light hits the tree that is apparently on this side of the shield and cracks a thick branch, forcing it to fall to the ground.

  “Jesus, you’re going to get us all killed,” he mutters.

  I open my mouth to ask what he means by that when he beats me to the punch.

  “I want you here, in this training circle every day an hour before sunrise. You will train until breakfast. Then you will also be here following dinner every night and will train until I’m satisfied by your progress or when it’s curfew. Got it?”

  “No,” I say and cross my arms over my chest.

  “No?” he asks, voice deeper and threatening. It’s as if he can’t believe I defied a direct order.

  “That’s what I mean. No. I won’t train that much with you. Not until you give me answers.” I stand my ground. But I wonder if maybe he’s about to implode as his face starts to turn red and his hands ignite in magic fire.

  “You came to this school, agreed to go through the trials, and as such, receive a mentor who is trying to help you pass them, never mind that I don’t think you deserve to be in a school like this, and you are going to stand there and tell me no?”

  I crack in my resolve a little. “I want answers too. It can’t be one way all the time.”

  He stands a little closer, and damn my magic, it burns even hotter. His smell is… intoxicating. Whatever soap he uses, it works for him. It’s delicious.

  He keeps his voice dangerously low, as he growls, “You want to be a part of this academy, correct?”

  I nod. Because if I try to form words, my tongue will get tripped up. Seeing as how my body is in a tug-of-war with itself, it’s the safer bet.

  “You want to pass the trials, right?” he growls again.

  Again, I nod. I’m starting to get a little lightheaded and I can’t be entirely sure, but I feel like it’s him.

  “Then you will do whatever it takes to do that.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I still nod.

  “In order for
that to happen, you need to train. I’m trying to do that. As your mentor, that is my recommendation. If you want to pass the trials, be here. If not, don’t bother wasting another minute of my time and request your immediate withdrawal from the trials. Understand?”

  I bite the corner of my bottom lip and nod, dropping my arms and taking a step back.

  “Good. Be prepared to train hard. I can’t afford you killing anyone in the academy, and you had better come prepared.”

  I half-ass salute him. Just to spite him. The distance, the air between us, helped to clear the fog from my mind. But still, my magic burns.

  For a moment, he looks like he’s about to rip me a new one. But then he just runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head before telling me to take a break. As he walks away, I groan. The magic dulls, leaving me chilled from the constant warmth coursing through my body, and I want to kick something. Training with him at the level he demands will leave me all too little time to research my magic in the library.

  Fan-freaking-tastic.

  The only silver lining so far is that he’s willing to help. It’s his duty. Because if I fail, that reflects on him and he strikes me as someone who hates to lose or have a black mark on his reputation.

  Shit.

  At least I still have the option to ask for a new mentor if he continues to be too much of an asshole. I have a feeling I may end up using that option before too much longer.

  I reclaim my spot on the grass and lay back against it. Holding up my hands, I stare at them. I can get this magic under control. I can learn some stuff and apply it. I’m a quick learner, so I know this constant training thing isn’t going to be forever. Hell, maybe Soren will see I’m not a threat and stop being such an ass.

  Doubtful, but a girl could dream.

  I hear Soren’s name get called and I turn my head to find Gideon standing outside of the training circle. He and Soren have a short chat. Soren gestures toward me, rather forcefully, and I sit up and watch the interaction, wishing I was closer so I could hear what is being said.

  They’re best friends, I get it. But that could also mean Soren could persuade the headmaster to get rid of me. That’s something I can’t stand for.