Chapter 19: Sudden Scrutiny

  No match was more anticipated than Raeva versus Raeleq. Both were undefeated, but that was about to change. Only one of them could be the top combatant in their year, and everyone was betting on the match. Even the professors engaged in a few wagers over who would come out on top.

  Ambrose, of course, took that opportunity to lend his services as a bookie. His [Contract] utility card was in high demand. For every contract between two other students, or even some of the townies, he made a tidy sum and a tip to keep his mouth shut. The gamblers gained an ironclad way to guarantee the loser paid their debts, often through a trigger condition that would penalize them with nightmares, profuse vomiting, or the inability to taste food until the debt was paid.

  Last minute betters kept him busy for most of the day. He missed out on Luthor’s match with David, but that was fine. Two martially inclined light wizards would probably be a hell of a fight, but magically uninteresting. He didn’t show up in the stadium until after lunch, right before Girard’s match with Jessica.

  “Jessica’s going to win this one,” he said, to the surprise of everyone sitting around him. “I can feel it.”

  “Oddly kind of you,” said Raeleq, sounding thoughtful. “Why do you think so?”

  “Because we spent an hour last night going over how to bring him down a few pegs,” said Ambrose, reclining as best as he could in the colosseum style seating. “We know how he fights, and she has a counter for each move he makes. Watch.”

  Professor Teague did the announcements and refereeing that day, and she couldn’t hide the apprehension in her voice over it. “Jessica Vanderborn, versus Girard LaVey. The usual rules apply. To submission or incapacitation. Or early surrender.”

  Jessica scowled and nodded, while Girard smirked and said, “No problem. I’ll make this fast.” He was at least twice Jessica’s size, and wore heavy, intimidating armor. She wore just a tailored uniform, guaranteed to help her move faster than him.

  Those in the crowd who could hear him chuckled. Ambrose bit back the urge to snap at them, and focused on breathing. They were in for a good show, and they’d see how wrong they were.

  “Alright. Then on my mark.” Teague left the arena, and the barrier went up. “Fight!”

  They cast their first spells at the same time. Jessica cast her [Illusory Double], while Girard summoned his maul. The mind mage and her copy circled around him, light on their feet.

  “Come on, everyone knows how you work. You’ve got no chance, Jessie, so we might as well get this over with.” He slapped his weapon in one hand.

  The two of her continued to circle while he stood still. “No, you’re going to lose this one, Girard. And I can’t think of anything more humiliating than being beaten by me of all people. Molly’s going to dump you on the spot, I bet.”

  She spoke loud enough to be heard, not quite yelling. The crowd cheered and some howled with laughter. Molly was unamused, but the rest of their year turned to Ambrose.

  “I may have given her a few choice insults to bait him with,” he said with a wide, smug smirk.

  The pompous light wizard wasn’t the brightest, and it worked like a charm. He charged forward at the one in front of him. With a wild roar, he swung his maul…through the illusion. With the attention on his attack, Ambrose was willing to bet half the audience missed Jessica casting a quick, innocuous spell.

  Girard whirled around to see the real Jessica getting a running start and leaping twelve feet into the air. She did a flip and aimed carefully, and then shot like an arrow at him.

  He had just enough time to blink in surprise before her heels collided with his forehead. Jessica’s momentum halted, but Girard went flying. He landed and rolled ass over ears, and came to a stop against the edge of the arena, where the seats started ten feet above him.

  The audience went wild, with half of them jumping to their feet and screaming. Ambrose was among them, clapping and roaring his approval with more emotion than he could remember ever showing in public. Raeleq joined him, laughing and even throwing an arm around the shadow wizard and shaking him affectionately. For once, he didn’t mind.

  But Jessica wasn’t finished. She strolled forward casually, like a predator about to go in for the kill. Girard struggled to get to his feet, the head trauma messing with his coordination. A blue circle appeared beneath the maul he’d dropped when kicked in the head.

  Ambrose pointed as the weapon levitated into the air, rising five, ten, fifteen feet high. Jessica strode past it on her way to her opponent. “Hey Girard,” she said.

  He didn’t take the bait this time. He began casting a creature spell between them.

  “Catch!” she said, as she used her [Telekinesis] card to yank the maul from behind her with all of her might. It flew headfirst over her and straight into his chest. There was a sickening crunch, and he spat up blood, then slumped over. The maul had broken through the armor and broke his diaphragm.

  The stadium went silent. Professor Teague darted into the arena and checked on the fallen student. She waved two arms over her head. “I…He’s barely alive. Get a healer out here now!”

  Ambrose burst out laughing and applauded louder than ever. So did a few others, but mostly, he received dirty looks from over half the stadium. That didn’t stop him from celebrating, and even sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling sharply.

  Jessica looked as stunned as everyone else, but then she jumped up and down and screamed out all her stress, anxiety, and doubt. It all became wild, desperate triumph. It went on until she turned around, and saw the headmaster staring at her with an inscrutable expression.

  “Damn, I can’t believe this,” Raeva said with a shake of her head. “You told her to do this?”

  “Among other things,” said Ambrose. “We had a plan for each of his cards, and how she could use hers against him. This is way better than anything I expected, although I think the [Astral Viper] would’ve been a good counter to his [One-Eyed Ogre]. I’m not complaining, though.”

  He definitely wasn’t complaining. Jessica had been the long odds, and he’d managed to find a couple suckers to bet against. He was now twenty crowns richer, once they paid up. Between that and the card she gave him, it was enough to call the debt mostly even.

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  “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I have some business to attend to. If anyone wants to make bets on how long it will take Raeva to slap her little brother down, I’ll be in Meli’s Place for the next hour or so.”

  “Anyone who bets against me will regret it,” Raeva said pleasantly. “And so will anyone who bets against my baby brother.”

  “I’m bigger than you,” Raeleq grumbled. “And you’re only older by an hour.”

  She reached up and patted his cheek. “And I always will be.”

  “Suit yourselves,” said Ambrose. “Tell Jessica to meet me and I’ll buy her a drink to celebrate.”

  He practically skipped on his way to the tavern, feeling very proud of himself. It may have been his friend’s victory, but it was his strategy that did it. It worked so well that it had been the only near-death so far. Healing magic that could bring someone back from the other side was incredibly expensive, and was time sensitive. The fact that the headmaster might have to pay for a resurrection was the cherry on top.

  Ambrose nursed a beer as the people foolish enough to bet against him trickled in one by one to hand off their silver coins. All but one, but Ambrose wasn’t too worried about it. If Benjamin didn’t pay up within a week, his food would lose all flavor for a while.

  After about an hour later, he realized he was having a really good couple of days, and couldn’t wait to celebrate with Jessica. Maybe they’d have another big strategy discussion for his match with Raeleq the next day.

  But she never showed.

  It didn’t bother him too much. Chances were Vanderborn was chewing her out for costing him money, even if it meant that she wouldn’t lose every match. He paid his tab with some of his winnings and prepared to head back when the tavern fell silent. He turned around to see the headmaster in the doorway.

  “I think we’re due another chat, Ambrose,” Vanderborn said in a tone he couldn’t decipher.

  That one sentence was enough to turn his blood to ice. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He nodded and walked over. The headmaster put his hand on his shoulder, and the two disappeared into that dark, cold, screaming void again.

  This time, the trip took ten seconds, and when it was over, Ambrose gasped for air. The old man was seemingly unaffected, and went around to his seat, while he remained standing.

  “I have a couple of questions for you, Ambrose. Is it true that you’re the one who told Jessica how to win this fight?”

  There was no point in lying, and he didn’t want to either. As nervous as he was, his irritation made it easy to feign confidence. He looked idly around the opulent, organized office, wondering where the Wildcard could be hidden.

  “It’s true. We worked out the cards she has together and how they’d do against Girard. I think it worked pretty well, don’t you?” He smiled, hopeful that the archmage couldn’t see him sweat.

  Vanderborn looked at him from under bushy white eyebrows, narrowed in suspicion. Finally, he sighed and almost smiled. “It did. I suppose I should thank you for making sure my granddaughter isn’t a complete embarrassment in this tournament.”

  “She will not come in last,” Ambrose promised. “We’re going to make sure she passes and makes it to fourth year, no matter what.”

  He thought then of the plan Luthor had, of possibly working together with whoever remained in the class. It seemed like such an idealistic, foolish dream. Ambrose already had plans to work for Vanderborn. It was his best path to wealth and power, and the reputation would be far better than a ragtag team of freshly graduated mercenaries fighting for whatever contracts they could get.

  But maybe it would be good for Jessica.

  The headmaster scoffed. “Ambitious, but that’s why I think I like you. But that brings me to two problems we have. The first is summoning a creature in the middle of a bunch of civilians.”

  “They were crowding and harassing me,” he protested. “I didn’t hurt anyone, I just intimidated someone threatening me. I will not apologize for putting someone like that in their place. Besides, my imp helped me find Jessica, so I could strategize with her. Are you or are you not a man who cares about results?”

  “I am. But I also have to worry about the reputation of this school. Fear is a valid, potent tool, when used at the right time. If you are to be one of my agents after you graduate, then you need to learn when to apply force and fear, and when to keep your damned mouth shut.”

  Ambrose bowed his head, conceding the point.

  “As for the other problem…We’re in the middle of finals, and your teachers have told me that you haven’t asked for any cards from them. I’ve specifically asked, and not a single one of them reported you even discussing possible cards to take. Care to explain?”

  Shit.

  He shrugged helplessly. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment. I may have lost one match, but I wanted a better idea of the competition before I made a choice. Do you have any suggestions?”

  Vanderborn’s lips twitched. “As it happens, I do. I have two cards for you to pick from, chosen by me to shore up your worst weakness.”

  “Creatures?”

  “Creatures. If you want to have any hope of beating the Ransas or Molly Maray, you can’t leave yourself vulnerable like you do. You’re going to add one of these to your deck now.”

  Although he liked the idea of getting a free card, Ambrose hated being told what to do. He said nothing for a few seconds, before asking, “Why?”

  “I’m protecting my investment. You are one of two people in your year I can see having what it takes to move on from being a big fish in a small pond, to maybe swimming in the ocean.” There was a sharp glint in the headmaster’s eyes, like he was choosing his words carefully. “The world is bigger than you think, and you could accomplish a lot, under my direction.”

  It still seemed too good to be true, but Ambrose couldn’t afford to be picky. Questioning help was foolish when the stakes were this high. The last time they had talked in this office, Vanderborn made it clear his interest was in him more than his family.

  “Okay,” he said, “show me the cards.”

  The headmaster held up a liver-spotted hand, and two cards shimmered into existence from his fingers. He set them down on the desk and slid them over.

  [Black Hound: Rare. The dark guardian of cemeteries and churchyards. Once it has chosen its prey, it will never give up the hunt.

  Special: Persistent. Deactivate a card to cast from your discard for free.

  Strength: B. Defense: C. Speed: B. Magic: B. 3 Mana, 1 Ongoing]

  That was solid, and would give him a chance to trade away cards and time to battle for a strong enough creature that could come back repeatedly. But it didn’t excite him as much as the second card.

  [Memory Eater: Rare. Ravenous but patient, the Memory Eater feasts on opponent’s cards.

  Special: Memory Mastication. Whenever you get a new hand, nearby opponents discard 1 card from their decks.

  Strength: D. Defense: C. Speed: B. Magic: B. 2 Mana, 2 Ongoing]

  It would be so tempting to add more discard effects to his deck. His rivals would hate him even more for it, but…Vanderborn was right. He did rely too much on being clever and not enough on raw force.

  “I’ll take the [Black Hound],” he said, picking it up.

  “A wise choice,” Vanderborn said. “It’s what I would have picked. Stronger, smarter wizards won’t always be vulnerable to your tactics. So that’s one card. We also discussed you getting a weapon from the workshop. What happened to that?”

  Not for the first time, Ambrose was grateful he kept the [Skeleton Key] card hidden in his apartment and not on him. “I got busy with odd jobs trying to stay afloat while my family fortune sinks like a ship with too many holes,” he said. “The time I could’ve spent in the workshop I had to spend making sure I had enough to feed myself. I’ve not forgotten, and I’ll work on it now.”

  One of the benefits of always sounding sharp and harsh was that he rarely sounded any more defensive than normal.

  “Mmm.” Vanderborn stood and motioned toward the door. “Get on that, then. If you want the Wildcard, you will win every other match.”

  Ambrose smiled. “Don’t worry, sir. I plan on doing whatever it takes to get my hands on that card.”