Chapter Seventeen: Rune-Locked and Loaded

  The thing about an attempted mugging by a giant blue squirrel is that it really puts your evening into perspective.

  My feet ache from walking for way too long, and every rustling leaf sounds like it could be round two. The air smells like damp earth and moss that probably has a name like "Scholar's Cushion" because everything here has to be pretentious about existing.

  Kaela keeps glancing up at the trees, her pale fingers still clutching the remains of our supplies. Her tail twitches with each suspicious rustle.

  "So," I say, breaking the paranoid silence. "Do all squirrels here try to rob people, or did we just get lucky?"

  Kaela exhales a nervous laugh. "Do you mean the Forest Scurrier?"

  "The squirrel," I correct automatically.

  Lyra glances back. "What?"

  "Massive, blue, furry? Just tried to mug us for jerky?" I gesture vaguely at the trees. "The Forest Scurrier. That's a squirrel. Just... blue. And massive. And apparently more aggressive than the ones back home."

  "You have a different name for Forest Scurriers?" Mira asks.

  "We have the correct name for them. Your version is just supersized and color-swapped."

  "Supersized and... color-swapped?" Mira repeats slowly, like I'm speaking a different language. Which, fair.

  "The point is," I say, "we survived a giant squid and literal knights, and the thing that hurt us the most was a squirrel with criminal ambition."

  Mira glares at me, still actively limping. "Really?" She says.

  "The monster is a close second. . . I'm sure," Lyra says.

  Kaela turns to look at me, "If I catch that criminal Forest Scurrier... it'll get what's coming to it for eating our jerky."

  "At least we got most of it back," Lyra says, sighing. "That jerky is expensive. I'm surprised you brought it with you."

  "My parents sent a care package last semester and it was inside." Kaela grins. "I thought it would be a good idea to bring and share, especially if we were going to be walking through the forest. You should have tried some, Fey. It's really good."

  "Yeah... I'm all good on the flying spider jerky." I grimace at the thought of eating a giant bug. Even in a fantasy world, some lines are not meant to be crossed.

  "Flying?" Kaela looks confused. "Oh no, they can't fly. Only the Winged Ones can fly. Flyders glide from tall trees and land on your head. They have mouths on their stomachs.”

  I stop walking. "I'm sorry, mouths on their what now?"

  "Their stomachs," Kaela repeats, like this is normal information.

  I stare at her like she’s just told me the sky is made of teeth. "That's horrifying."

  Mira makes a sound that might be a laugh. "You're very dramatic.”

  "I really have to brush up on your religion," I say, sighing. "It seems like everywhere I go it keeps coming up."

  "We could go back to the library?" Lyra suggests. "They have an entire selection on the Winged Ones and the World Tree."

  "Does your world have a religion?" Kaela asks.

  "Yeah, we do... a lot of them. They mostly revolve around a single God."

  “God?” Mira says.

  “Oh, it's someone a lot of people worship,” I say.

  "Is this God powerful? Have you met them?"

  "I haven't met them personally. I don't think anyone really has. It's a faith thing."

  "That's weird," Kaela says. "Why would you worship someone you've never met?"

  "You've met the Winged Ones?" I counter.

  "Oh, not me. My grandparents have. No one's really seen the Winged Ones in a really long time. Some people say they ascended the World Tree after the Yellowmen arrived and that we have to prove our faith before they will come back."

  I frown. "That doesn't make sense. Willow said they're protectors. Wouldn't they protect you all from the invading humans? Why would they leave when you needed them the most?"

  "I'm sure they had their reasons," Mira says, frowning as I mention Willow and brushing away a branch. “It's not our job to question mythical creatures.” The way Mira says mythical has an edge to it, like she’s tired of bedtime stories being used as bandages.

  “They aren't mythical,” Kaela complains, looking at Mira with irritation even I could recognize.

  “Everyone is entitled to their beliefs. . . Okay?” Lyra says, acting like the mediator.

  “You don't believe in the Winged Ones?” I say, looking towards Mira.

  “I do not. I find it hard to believe in mythical creatures that supposedly protect the world when people are dying daily from monster attacks.” Mira says.

  We’re halfway through arguing about gods and monsters when the path straightens and the Academy rises ahead, quiet, tall, and looking like it already knows what we did. We'd elected to stay close to the official path after our encounter with the forest scurrier. Not only did this let us move faster since the brush was mostly cleared, it let us monitor how far ahead of the knights we were.

  The last thing we wanted was to arrive back at the academy and have the knights waiting for us.

  Turns out, someone else had the same idea.

  The Headmaster stands just inside the threshold like the building itself decided it needed a spine and chose him. No professors flanking him. No crowd. Just him, straight-backed in the glow from the lanterns, expression unreadable, not like I was any good at reading them anyway.

  We all stop.

  "Isn't that the Headmaster guy?" I whisper, crouching behind a bush.

  The others crouch with me.

  "Why is he here?" Mira says, and for the first time since the squid attack, she looks concerned.

  "Maybe we can sneak past him with those cloaks?" I say.

  "It's like he's waiting for. . ." Kaela starts.

  "I know you're there," the Headmaster says, turning and looking directly at our bush.

  "Maybe he's talking to someone else?" I offer.

  Mira raises an eyebrow at me. The look says really?

  "And I can hear you too," he adds.

  "Guess not," I mutter, standing up with the others. If humiliation were mana, I could power the whole Academy right now.

  We step out of the bush like kids caught sneaking back after curfew.

  The Headmaster's tail strikes the ground once. Sharp. Deliberate.

  "Inside," he says. His voice is calm, but there's a fury underneath it that makes my stomach drop. "Now."

  "Headmaster, we. . ." Mira starts.

  "Inside. Now."

  The force behind the word makes me flinch.

  Mira's face does something I've never seen before. Her jaw tightens. Her shoulders drop. She looks... hurt.

  It tugs at something deep in my chest.

  She brushes herself off, steps out of the bush, and starts walking toward the front gate without another word.

  Kaela and Lyra exchange glances, shock mixed with resignation, and follow.

  I take up the rear, acutely aware that the Headmaster is staring at me in particular.

  As I pass him, he speaks quietly. Just for me.

  "Ms. Fey... when you arrived here, I specifically told these three girls to keep you away from trouble." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "However, it seems to me that you... yourself... are the trouble."

  My throat tightens.

  "Pray to the Winged Ones," he says, pausing, "that I don't decide you're more trouble than you're worth."

  The words land like a threat.

  I follow Kaela and Lyra back into the Academy. The Headmaster's footsteps echo behind us.

  The walk to the dorms is silent except for the whisper of his robes against stone. We pass closed doors, classes in progress, muffled voices behind wood, the sounds of a perfectly normal day.

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  I mean, I did suggest we go to the market. It's not my fault a giant squid attacked and then knights tried to arrest me. At least he hasn't heard about the squirrel.

  They can't kick me out on my third day here.

  Can they?

  Actually, is it even my third day here? Now that I think about it, it hasn't gotten dark except for that blackout we walked through on the way to town. For all I know, it's only been one very long day.

  God, I hope it's been more than one day. This would set the record for the longest day ever.

  It would suck if I'm stuck in a world with really long days. If this really is still the same day, I want to speak to whatever manager is in charge of time.

  My internal tirade is interrupted as the Headmaster stops.

  I bump into Lyra, sending her teetering as I get my balance. "Sorry," I say, rubbing my nose as I look around and realize where we are.

  We're in the dorms.

  I hadn't paid much attention as we were walking, mainly paying attention to my racing thoughts instead of the passing corridors. At some point the headmaster had started walking ahead of us.

  I blink, realizing that not only are we in the dorms, we're in front of my dorm room. Well. . . The room that Mira and I shared.

  "Now. . ." He says, sighing again. "I don't know why you four decided it was a good idea to leave academy grounds. I don't know why you decided to anger the knights. What I do know is that until further notice you four are confined to your rooms. I'll have your meals delivered and baths prepared for you."

  "But Headmaster!" Mira tries, turning to look at him.

  "No excuses." He says, reaching for the door. Then he stops. His eyes narrow as he looks at Mira. "Are you bleeding?"

  Mira goes rigid. "I'm fine."

  "That wasn't the question."

  "It's just a scratch."

  The Headmaster's tail does a sharp flick that I'm starting to recognize as his tell for I am not amused.

  Kaela winces. Lyra looks at the floor.

  "There was a monster!" Mira tries again, her voice taking on a desperate edge. "I can explain!"

  "Enough." The Headmaster's voice goes flat. Professional. The kind of tone that means someone is about to get escorted somewhere they don't want to go. "You're going to the nurse's office."

  "I don't need. . ."

  "Now."

  Mira's mouth snaps shut. Her tail coils tight.

  The Headmaster turns to Kaela and Lyra, pointing down the hall. "You two. Your room. I'll speak to you after the knights leave. You're to stay out of sight until they're gone. Understood?"

  Kaela nods quickly. Lyra's jaw tightens, but she nods too.

  "Good." He gestures sharply, and they shuffle off like kids dismissed from the principal's office.

  Then his attention lands on me.

  Oh no.

  "Ms. Fey." He pushes open my door. "Inside."

  "What about. . ."

  "Inside."

  I step forward. Mira catches my eye, and for a second there's something almost apologetic in her expression. Like she's sorry she's leaving me alone with the consequences of our collective bad decision.

  The headmaster takes a stick of chalk from his pocket and starts drawing on the doorframe.

  He draws three runes I don't recognize on the doorframe and circles them. Then he draws a square around the entire doorframe and connects it to the circled runes with a line. He presses two fingers to the runes, activating them. The room dims for a moment, the lanterns hanging from the ceiling flaring brighter to compensate. I blink hard and shift into mana blizzard vision, because I might as well learn something.

  The room explodes into color. I wince, shielding my eyes from the blinding mass of red mana radiating from the lanterns overhead. Red particles drift lazily away, finding new homes in the hallway. The corridor is mostly brown and red. Unlike the chaotic swirl of the forest or the town, the Academy's mana looks organized. Like someone taught it to behave.

  The runes the Headmaster just drew are pulling mana toward them.

  I watch the flow for a moment, fascinated despite myself.

  The Headmaster is staring at me.

  "What?" I say.

  "Your eyes. . .”

  "It's a medical condition," I lie.

  "A . . . Medical condition. . ." he says.

  "Very rare. Genetic. Runs in the family."

  He stares at me for three more seconds, then shakes his head like he's decided I'm not worth the energy.

  "For safety," he says, stepping back. "Until tomorrow."

  The tone says safety. The subtext says you're grounded.

  I open my mouth to argue, but he lifts one hand and the conversation just... stops. Like he hit a mute button.

  The door closes with a soft click that sounds way too final.

  I stand there for a moment, staring at the wood.

  Then I reach for the handle.

  It doesn't move.

  I pull harder. Nothing.

  "Great," I mutter to the empty room. "Magical timeout. This is fine. Everything is fine."

  Everything is not fine.

  I'm alone. Mira's with the nurse. Kaela and Lyra are locked in their room. And I'm stuck here with nothing but my thoughts and a door that's been magically told to ignore me.

  I pace to the window. Look out at the grounds. Everything looks perfectly normal. Students walking between buildings. Professors doing professor things.

  It's aggressively peaceful.

  "Okay," I say aloud, because talking to myself is better than sitting in silence. "Let's review. Giant squid: survived. Knights: evaded. Squirrel: defeated. Current status: imprisoned by the principal.”

  I flop onto my bed.

  "I suggested the market. That's it. That was my crime. 'Hey, let's go to town.' How was I supposed to know there'd be a sea monster? Do they have those often? Is that normal here?"

  The room doesn't answer.

  "Right. Because I'm talking to myself. That's healthy."

  I stare at the ceiling. There's a crack in the stone that looks vaguely like a dragon. Or a deformed chicken. Hard to tell.

  "Mira's probably fine," I continue. "She's tough. She got hit by a squid tentacle and still managed to yell at me. That's dedication."

  The crack-dragon doesn't comment.

  I roll onto my side.

  "This is pathetic. I'm having a full conversation with myself.”

  I sit up and look at the door again.

  "You know what?" I say to the door. "This is ridiculous. I didn't survive a portal, a squid, and a homicidal squirrel just to be locked in my room like a grounded teenager."

  The door remains unimpressed.

  I stand up and walk over to it. Put my hand on the wood.

  Nothing happens. Obviously.

  "Okay. Think." I pace away from the door, then back. My footsteps echo in the empty room. "The Headmaster drew runes. The runes pull mana. Mana powers the seal."

  I stop mid-pace.

  Wait.

  Pull mana.

  The memory hits me like a freight train, and suddenly I'm not in my dorm room anymore. I'm in town, reality tearing itself apart. I remember breaking the runemarks, how the mana had streamed into me.

  I press my palm flat against the door, my hand trembling slightly.

  "What if I can do it again?" I whisper to the empty room. "What if I can pull it on purpose?"

  The idea sounds insane even as I say it out loud.

  I close my eyes and shift into mana blizzard vision.

  The world explodes into color. The doorframe lights up like someone built a circuit board, loops and patterns stacking on top of each other. And underneath it all, the feed. Mana flowing into the seal like water through a pipe, steady and constant.

  I reach out, not with my hands, but with that weird internal sense. The same one I'd used to close the portal. Except this time I'm not trying to pinch off the flow.

  I'm trying to redirect it.

  Toward me.

  At first, nothing happens. Mana keeps streaming into the seal, completely indifferent to my efforts. My metaphysical fingers slip through like smoke, finding no purchase.

  "Come on," I mutter. "Come on, you did this before."

  I try again. And again. Each time the mana just flows past me like I'm not even there.

  "Dammit." I pull my hand back, flexing my fingers. They're starting to cramp from pressing so hard against the wood. "This is insane. What the hell is wrong with me?"

  But what else am I supposed to do? Sit here and wait for the Headmaster to decide my fate?

  I press my palm back to the door.

  "Okay. Different approach." I take a slow breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "In town, I wasn't trying to pull the mana. It just... came. Like my body was a vacuum and the mana was air."

  I focus on that memory again. The sensation of mana flooding into me. It hadn't felt like I was grabbing it. It felt like breathing in.

  What if that's the key?

  I try again, but this time instead of reaching out and grabbing, I imagine pulling. Creating a current that runs toward me instead of toward the seal.

  The flow shivers.

  I freeze.

  "Oh shit," I breathe.

  It shivers again, harder this time. A few particles of mana drift off course, floating toward my palm instead of the runes. The nearest lantern flickers, the red glow stuttering like it’s suddenly unsure it has permission to exist. The air tastes like copper and thunderstorms, and my teeth start to ache, like the mana is vibrating inside my bones.

  "Oh my god. Oh my god, it's working."

  "Okay. Okay, that's. . . that's something.”

  The sensation is bizarre. It's like flexing a muscle I didn't know existed, except the muscle is somewhere in my chest and it's pulling at reality itself. The mana starts to bend, particles peeling away from the main flow.

  Toward me.

  I can see it now, a thin stream diverting from the seal's feed, flowing toward my palm. Where it touches my skin, it just... disappears.

  "Holy shit," I whisper.

  I pull harder.

  The pressure in my chest intensifies. It feels like something is trying to drag my insides through a space too small to fit. My hand shakes against the door. My knees buckle but I force myself to stay upright, palm pressed flat to the wood.

  The stream of mana widens. More particles divert, flowing into me instead of the seal.

  Sweat drips down my temple. My breath comes in short, ragged gasps.

  And then I remember the portal.

  That moment when I'd grabbed the flow and pinched it. The sensation of reality bending under my grip.

  What if I combined them?

  What if I pinched and pulled at the same time?

  I reach out with that internal sense and pinch the feed, cutting off the seal's supply at the source. And simultaneously, I pull. Hard.

  The effect is immediate and terrifying.

  Mana doesn't just divert. It floods toward me like I've opened a dam. The seal's entire feed redirects, a torrent of particles streaming into my palm.

  The pressure in my chest explodes.

  "Ah. . .!" I cry out, nearly jerking my hand away, but I force myself to hold on. The mana pours into me, filling spaces I didn't know existed. It's too much. Way too much. Like trying to drink from a fire hose.

  The seal flickers rapidly, its glow stuttering like a dying lightbulb.

  "Come. . ." I can barely get the words out. "Come on, come on..."

  The feed narrows to nothing. Every particle of mana that should be powering the seal is flowing into me instead.

  The seal gives one final flicker.

  And then. . .

  Snap.

  The exact same sick little snap as closing the portal. The sound of reality bending and then settling into a new shape.

  The runes go dark. All at once.

  I jerk my hand away from the door and stumble backward, gasping. The mana sight cuts out and I'm back in normal vision, dizzy and nauseous. My knees give out and I catch myself on the edge of my bed, barely.

  My chest feels full. Like I've swallowed something too large and it's sitting heavy in my lungs. The sensation is fading slowly, the absorbed mana dissipating into... somewhere. I don't know where. I don't want to think about where.

  "What the hell am I?" I whisper to the empty room. “Is this my power? Am I actually a hero?”

  I stand on unsteady legs and walk to the door. My footsteps feel too loud in the silence.

  I put my hand on the handle.

  It turns.

  The door opens with a soft, ordinary click that feels completely wrong after what just happened. Like the universe should have acknowledged that moment with something more dramatic than a door opening.

  I step into the hallway, half-expecting alarms to go off or the Headmaster to materialize out of thin air.

  Nothing happens.

  The corridor is empty. Quiet. Just stone walls and closed doors and the faint glow of red mana drifting from the lanterns overhead.

  I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

  And then I hear footsteps.