Prodigy of Thunder, page 51
“Yes, I know it was only practice exams,” Anna replied.
William threw up his hands. “Aww, Sam! Sam, Sam, Sam! I was going to needle her and rile her up!”
Jordan’s shoulders slumped. “We had a whole thing planned, Sam, that involved Anna storming off in a huff and us catching up to her. Way to spoil a good prank.”
“A well-deserved one, mind,” William threw in.
“Oh, leave her be. She went through an awful ordeal.”
Jordan leaned forth. “Just tell us Anna’s reaction at least. We want—nay, deserve every detail. Every gasp, every clutch of her robe, every panicked word.”
Samantha looked to Anna, who chuffed but did not say no, passively giving her blessing for the boys to squeeze as much misery from Anna’s reaction to the jest as they could. As Samantha described that moment, Anna tuned them out and razor-focused on Written Word—until she felt a whap across the back of her head. Just as she whirled about, ready to challenge someone to a duel of honor, she saw her sister.
“We need to talk,” Deya hissed.
“I’m busy.”
“Now.”
“Ugh, fine.”
Deya led Anna into a nearby empty classroom, where Anna started in immediately. “Don’t you dare treat me like we’re back home and you can just—” but Deya grabbed her by the robe and slammed her up against the blackboard.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” she spat into Anna’s face.
Anna struggled to free herself but her sister was stronger. “Piss off!” Anna hollered instead.
“You put Mother and Father in grave danger. Do you realize there will be an investigation against them? What, you think I wouldn’t find out about the high council? Huh?”
Anna searched Deya’s eyes. “Those scheming Haughts told you, didn’t they?”
Deya slammed Anna against the wall again, roaring, “Doesn’t matter who, you idiot! Doesn’t matter! Don’t you understand they could take it away from him?”
“Take what away from him?”
“The—” but Deya silenced herself.
Anna finally shoved Deya back. “I asked you to help me, yet you refused, didn’t you? Didn’t you!”
“The Skull Stalker was none of our concern!”
“Except Father wanted us to work together! He wanted it! But all you’ve done is spit in my face.”
“And look what your meddling’s achieved, you stupid fool!”
“I saved a boy’s life—”
“Who’ll probably die in the streets anyway!”
Anna recoiled. “You’re a scoundrel.”
Deya’s eyes flared and she slapped Anna hard across the cheek.
Anna glared at her sister, cheek stinging, before she shouldered roughly past her. Slapped twice in less than a day. Great, keep it up, Anna.
“Slimy little witch, I’m not done talking to you—”
“But I’m done talking to you,” Anna roared over her shoulder and threw open the door so hard it slammed against the wall. Then she stepped back into the room, hissing, “Why couldn’t you have simply worked alongside me, huh? Why couldn’t you be proud of me for once for doing something no one else has done? Why is that impossible for you?”
Deya marched up to Anna and scowled down into her eyes. “Because you’re daddy’s know-it-all little princess who always gets what she wants. But you won’t steal what rightly should be mine as the elder sister,” and she passed by, shouldering Anna roughly in turn.
Anna flipped her sister’s back a rude gesture. How her blood raged! After everything she had tried, her sister loathed her more than ever. All for what? Some stupid inheritance she thought belonged to her because she was older?
Anna scoffed at the idiocy of it all and went back to her friends, who immediately tensed upon her plopping down on the bench and flipping the pages of her book so violently she ripped one. Anna smacked her lips in annoyance and spread her hands over the tear. “Apreyo,” she incanted, repairing it with a flash of sealing light. Then she continued flipping pages until she found the right chapter, which she began cross-referencing with her notes. Mercifully, not one of them asked what was wrong, having learned not to poke Anna when it came to family matters. But Anna’s coldness melted away as people continued to come up to the table to congratulate her on tracking down the Skull Stalker when so many others had failed.
“Empowered a lot of aspirants,” one older female student said. “And a lot of young ladies. Well done.”
“You made The Gauntlet proud,” a handsome fire warlock with burn scars on his hands jested, referring to the academy’s nickname. “Should get a reward or something.”
I’m just happy to have avoided arcastration, Anna thought, blushingly thanking them. Mercifully the thanks petered out, leaving her in relative peace—at least for now.
Jordan, picking at his pancakes, cleared his throat. “So, uh, Anna, are you worried?”
“About flunking my exams because I haven’t studied hard enough? Absolutely.”
Jordan forced a small laugh. “No. I mean about Veruca taking revenge.”
“Of course I’m worried.” But she was more worried for her family. What if Veruca got to them? She said she’d worked with Father, after all …
Suddenly it occurred to her that she hadn’t even written her father to explain things, and so she whipped out a parchment, dipped her quill into her ink, and furiously scribbled away, being sure to hide the contents from view with an arm.
“What are you doing?” William asked, munching on an apple.
“Writing a letter to my father.”
“What’s it going to say?”
“William,” Samantha hissed, and he shrugged, muttering a mouth-filled apology.
“Congratulations, Anna,” a familiar voice said.
Anna did not look up from her writing. “Thank you, Thomas.”
“You continue to amaze.”
Her quill scratched away. “And you continue to disappoint. Your best friends the Haughts meddled in affairs that do not concern them.”
“They’re not my …” But he did not finish. She sensed him lingering before he stalked off. It was nice of him to have at least said something, yet she wasn’t in the mood to start talking to him anytime soon. He was a Blackflower who cavorted with slavers and corrupt lordlings. An heir to a corrupt fortune. They had nothing in common.
As her friends traded looks, Anna finished writing the letter to her father, folded the parchment up, stuffed her satchel with her books, and leaped off the bench.
“Wait, class is about to begin!” Jordan called after her.
“I know, but I have to mail this.”
She half ran half jogged to Melma the Messenger’s in Shoptown and paid the two spines and then another two spines to have the letter rushed by warlock courier. Then she sprinted back, managing to jam her foot into the door of Written Word class just as the eighth and final morning bell rang—and saw blank test parchments already laid out on the desks.
Blizzard
That quint flew by, with Anna acing every practice test. Feeling guilty for not inviting them along on her adventure, she spent a lot of time tutoring her friends in their shared classes. William needed the most help. He oft sat loudly munching on roasted pecans or dried and salted beef chunks or apples, annoying Anna, while Samantha sat nearby practicing trying to float her satchel to match Anna’s, though oft giving up quickly and moving on to studying, or perhaps working on her calligraphy.
But as hard as Anna focused on her own studies, her encounter with the Skull Stalker drew disruptive attention to her. She still wasn’t popular, for she did not possess the bubbly personality like some of the student council did. Rather it was a sample of what fame would taste like.
And she found it most unpleasant, particularly the petty jealousies from fellow aspirants, the sarcastic barbs from those who were fans of her sister, and the awkward questions if she had a boyfriend. Luckily her friends ran excellent interference, with Jordan at one point throwing his arms around Anna’s shoulders and pretending to drool on her in front of a potential suitor that stank like he hadn’t taken a bath in a month.
During review quint, Anna was so inundated by questions—everybody wanted to meet the up-and-coming aspirant who had dared to succeed where senior warlocks had failed—that Anna spent most of her time shuttered in her room just so she could study without interruption. Still, notes were slipped under her door asking to train together or eat together or study together or go out on a date.
And she got a lot of knocks on the door, which was what happened on the morning of the study day prior to the beginning of Review Quint, when someone rapped at her door once again.
“Sorry, got to study,” she called for the umpteenth time in the last few days, books splayed open and covering near the entirety of her dorm room floor. But instead of receiving a response, a letter was slipped under the crack. Anna sighed and retrieved it, expecting another awkward love note, when she spotted an open book impressed into the crimson wax—her father’s seal. She hurriedly cracked open the letter.
My dear daughter Anna,
Although it pains me that you disobeyed when I told you not to meddle with the Skull Stalker, you were successful in your persistence, uncovering her to be a fellow arcaneologist—and the very woman you inquired about after your championship victory. You also saved a boy’s life and have prevented future violence and murders by the confiscation of her stash of ingredients. That is an incredible achievement worthy of praise.
Unfortunately, I failed you by not listening to you or taking your observation seriously. Further, the fault for putting you in danger rests entirely with me for having piqued your interest in the first place and asking you and your sister to work together on the problem at hand. I should have been clearer that I only wanted you two to conduct research. My intent was never for either of you to pursue the necromancer.
Yet what’s done is done, and the regret is my burden to bear.
Your mother and I were questioned regarding your training. Luckily the high council and I have reached an understanding, as the secret I have kept from you for many years has been, and continues to be, my shield, for I use it to protect the kingdom. For that, I have the grudging support of the council.
But my reservations and fears have proven meritless, haven’t they? For your accomplishments with the quest speak for themselves and trump any insecurities of mine as a father.
Thus, I now realize that the time has come to reveal the burden to you, for you have proven to me that you are capable of handling it. As such, after you pass your exams and earn your first stripe, I shall reveal to you the knowledge you have long sought.
I cannot describe how incredibly proud I am of you. The Fates have blessed me with a brilliant daughter who will surely grow into a wonderful, compassionate, and strong woman who will inspire others by her leadership. I look forward to watching you grow into that woman.
Your ever-loving father,
—Sampson Jeremiah Stone
P.S. Be wary, for Veruca is extremely dangerous. Keep your head down and do not seek her out. Leave the authorities to their pursuit of her.
The last paragraph blurred as Anna’s tears fell upon the ink, staining it. She blotted it with a cloth, that tender line echoing in her mind. Nothing else mattered but that her father was proud of her.
“Look, Bun-Bun,” she whispered, wiping her eyes with her sleeve whilst showing the little creature the letter. “Look what Father wrote. Isn’t that touching? I knew he was proud, but for him to write it now, after everything that’s happened …” She shook her head, pressed the letter to her chest, and sighed. She now knew she had done right despite what her sister had said.
“But how to bridge that divide between us?” she murmured. “How can I make her proud of me as well? No, you’re wrong,” she said to Bun-Bun. “I think it’s entirely possible. After all, she was proud of me for defending the family name against her own friend in the arena, wasn’t she? Remember that? And she gave me that little tart on my birthday. That means part of her does love me.”
She jolted. “Oh, news! Father’s going to reveal his great secret to me after all these years! Yes, you’re right, but I’ve been more than patient. Besides, Deya already knows.” She grimaced as she folded the cherished letter. “Do you think Father will tell her that he’s going to tell me? And how do you think she’d react if he did?” She sighed again. “Yeah, I don’t know either …”
But the more Anna thought about it, the more she hoped Deya did not find out, for there was only one person Anna feared above Veruca Valence …
Her sister.
* * *
The cram quint that came after the review quint, involving of course cramming every iota of knowledge into already overloaded brains, blew by in a blur. Not a peep was heard from Veruca Valence and only a few fleeting sightings of Lord Thomas Blackflower, who was always in the presence of that preening Mayda Haught. Anna refused to give either of them attention, choosing to ignore the way she played with his hand, how she ran a hand through his luscious hair, how—why was it such a trial to look away and mind her own business!
But before Anna knew it, she was chewing on the shaft of her already gnarled eagle feather quill and readying to take the first written exam of the exam quint—History. All exams were separated by degree level and held in sprawling rooms, minded by multiple stern-faced arcanists who watched over the student body like stalking cougars. Her three after-classes—Trainer sessions, Dueling Club, and Dual Element Studies—would also have examinations, though held in their usual locations. If she passed those, she would be allowed to continue taking the after-classes next term—or in the case of the Trainers, hope for an invitation again.
Anna sat amidst her friends at separated mahogany desks inset with well-worn crimson leather. Jordan, hair colored blue, breathed quickly, brow furrowed as he gazed down at the parchment as if it were his enemy; William picked at his teeth as he cocked his head this way and that, trying to figure out the scope of the essay question before him; and Samantha twirled her goose feather quill whilst biting her lip.
Good luck, you three, Anna thought, hoping her tutoring had helped. Then she eyed the stack of parchments in front of her. Question One: Who founded the Kingdom of Solia, and what three major challenges did the founder face? Be specific.
Easy enough, Anna thought, knowing the founder’s name to be King Solian Northsword the Great, and she could probably name six major challenges. She flipped the parchment to glance at question two. For what purpose were the four spears founded, and what effect did they have on Solia’s history? Be specific. She knew the answer to that one too: the four spears referred to the four castles of the compass—Northspear, Eastspear, Southspear, and Westspear, and their purpose was to guard the four major boundaries of the kingdom. She kept flipping pages and found the rest to be multiple-choice questions—two hundred of them. And she only had two hours to complete it all.
She returned to the beginning, blew stray hair away from her face, dipped her quill into her inkwell, and began.
She thought she did well in that exam, but it was the next one that worried her—3rd degree Arcaneology. Anna had kept her head down all term because she was surrounded by older students who smugly thought she would flunk. She had studied that subject more than any other and quickly found herself answering question after question with expert precision. The only one that gave her trouble was, Why did the founders group the specific spells of the 3rd degree together, and how do they relate? That one required a little more thought. But she finished before anyone else did and handed her parchment in to the examiner’s table, becoming the first to depart for lunch.
“Gosh you must have finished quick,” Samantha noted upon joining Anna at her table.
Anna was perusing study material as usual, an empty lunch tray sitting nearby.
“How do you think you did?” Samantha pressed, sticking a two-pronged fork into a roasted chicken breast and sawing it with a dull knife. Its crusty skin cracked and crackled under the knife.
“I did all right in History and better than I thought in 3rd degree Arcaneology.”
“Pfft, that means you got a perfect score on both.”
Anna flashed a brief smile. “Hope so. And you?”
“All right in History, but ugh, my Calligraphy exam turned out to be a bit of a repetitive chore. I may have flubbed the portion on line precision. You know I like my loops.”
“I’m sure you were excellent.” Anna enjoyed watching Samantha wield the quill, for she was meticulous, with an ornate and loopy style suitable for a potential future scribe.
The boys soon joined them and they bantered about their prospects before they all hit the books and went to their next exam, another elective. For Anna that was 1st degree Mythology: An Introduction. She was pretty sure she nailed that one too, though she’d struggled with the essay question, How did Leyans and Dreadnoughts slip into mythology, and how did they relate? Be specific. Having finished early once again, she strode off to have a wash and ready herself for her final Trainer session with Headmistress Roth.
The class met in an academy room filled with oval etchings. Headmistress Roth slapped one of those ovals with a lightning-infused palm, declaring, “Headmistress Roberta Roth, 1st degree Trainer, examination trial.” A portal flared to life and she moved aside to allow the students to enter, as it would close once she stepped through.
On the other side, Anna was greeted by the awe-inspiring sight of a wooden platform balanced atop an enormous tree, which itself sat amidst a snowy forest of gargantuan spruces that towered around it like giants crowding a child. Attached to the central platform was a series of rope-and-wood bridges that shot through the forest like the threads of a spiderweb—bridges that only had foot planks, no handholds to grab on to. It did not escape Anna that the number of bridges exactly matched the number of students.
