“Now,” Tobias said to his students in a clear, deep voice, his laser-like stare all too reminiscent of Aaron’s. “Any of you could destroy those discs, one by one, without a switch, but that’s a first-year skill. This month, we’ve been practicing using a switch to achieve discorporate ignition. Now Aaron and Kai will demonstrate why we’re learning it—and what a mastery of discorporate ignition can accomplish.”
“Discorporate what?” I muttered.
“Ignition,” Ezra whispered. “It means creating magic away from your body instead of starting with your hands or switch.”
“Aaron, Kai,” Tobias called. “Please turn around.”
As Aaron and Kai turned their backs on the floating discs, whispers of disbelief ran through the observing students.
“Aaron and Kai are employing spatial imaging to target the discs, even though they can no longer see them,” Tobias explained, emphasizing what I assumed was a term on the kids’ next exam. “Now they’ll use cognitive visualization as they engage their switches.”
Aaron and Kai lifted the plain swords. Aaron held his sideways, the blade’s edge parallel to the floor and one hand pressed against the flat steel. Kai aimed the point of his sword at the ceiling, the blunt edge aligned with his nose.
“Three,” Tobias called, “two, one, now.”
Aaron swept his hand down his blade. Kai twisted his sword sharply.
Five fireballs burst over the hovering discs. At the exact same moment, electricity erupted over the centermost disc, then bolts speared the remaining four. Broken ceramic rained down on the concrete.
The students whooped and clapped appreciatively.
Ezra nodded at his friends’ display of skill. “Discorporate ignition on five small targets would challenge most mages, let alone doing it blind.”
“Can you do it?” I asked.
He smiled ruefully. “I can only manage discorporate ignition on a single target.”
A vision flashed through my mind: an ice-cold and dark loading bay. As I’d plunged off a steel mezzanine, wind had whooshed beneath me, the dense air cushioning my fall.
Discorporate ignition. Ezra had created a dense pocket of air underneath me a split second before I’d hit the ground, while in the middle of a deadly battle against two demons. I might not be an Elementaria expert, but I suspected Ezra wasn’t giving his skills enough credit.
Sin reached around me to pat his shoulder. “It’s tough being the least talented sibling. Lily is a mage prodigy, obviously, since she won a scholarship here. And Anna is only a year older than me but three years ahead in her alchemy apprenticeship. We just have to soldier on, Ezra.”
Aaron and Kai did several more mind-boggling demonstrations of their switch control before Tobias concluded the lesson. While he dismissed his class, the two super-mages sauntered over to join us plebian spectators. Sin, Ezra, and I got to our feet.
“Nice demo,” I said.
Aaron grinned, oozing satisfaction. “I broke the discs first on the last round.”
Kai’s dark eyes flashed with annoyance. “We broke them at the same time.”
“You wish. I’ve always been faster on the draw with a direct line of sight.”
Ezra rolled his eyes. The two mages continued to bicker as, across the arena, the students filed out.
“Excellent work, Aaron,” the headmaster said, striding over to us. “Impressive as always. The students will be talking about this lesson for weeks.”
Aaron’s proud smile returned. He might complain about having to teach while he was here, but he didn’t mind showing off his skills for his father. What boy, even a grown one, didn’t want to impress his dad?
“And you as well, Kai,” Tobias added. “Thanks for your help.”
As the headmaster’s gaze turned to his son’s other guests, Aaron quickly introduced me and Sin. I shook Tobias’s hand, feeling oddly starstruck. I had no idea how much weight he and his wife pulled in the mythic community, but I was beginning to grasp that the Sinclairs were on a whole different level than I’d seen in my dealings with mythics so far.
Clapping a hand on Aaron’s shoulder, Tobias led him to the door. “Are you looking forward to the end-of-term Christmas party? Shane Davila is attending this year. Rumor has it he’s coming to Vancouver to take a crack at their infamous rogue, the—”
They stepped into the corridor and a wave of noisy chatter drowned out the headmaster’s voice. Students had flooded the hall, ranging from groups of fresh-faced thirteen-year-olds to lanky eighteen-year-olds with lean muscles yet to fill out. As we followed the headmaster and his son into the crowd, I counted three boys to every one girl. Huh.
The practice arenas were plain concrete boxes, designed to withstand daily magic damage, but spotless white walls, marble floors, and stained wood trim lined the corridors. The classrooms, as I’d seen earlier in our tour, featured high-tech projectors and smart boards, glossy tables and cushioned chairs on tiered floors, plush carpet, honeycomb walls for optimal acoustics, and huge windows that offered breathtaking views of the forest, the coast, or the beautiful Tudor masonry of the Sinclair castle.
Castle. I still couldn’t believe it.
Aaron shook off his father and trotted back to us, weaving through the students.
“Shane Davila?” Kai said as soon as Aaron was within earshot. “A renowned bounty hunter will be a nice change from the usual guest list.”
“Yeah.” Aaron rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I’d be more excited, except my dad knows I’m a fan of Shane’s work.”
Kai nodded knowingly, but I was confused.
“So what if your dad knows you’re a fan of this guy?” I asked.
“My dad’ll have an ulterior motive for inviting Shane,” Aaron said, unduly grim. “Let’s head to the house. I’ll show you your rooms and stuff before dinner.”
He and Kai led us into the flow of students, but they didn’t get far before an older teen called out, “Whoa, Aaron Sinclair! I didn’t know you were here.”
Aaron stopped as a band of boys rushed up to him. A moment later, three sixteenish girls squeezed into the group, their eyes forming heart shapes as they ogled him. Kai was getting almost as much attention, though the students seemed as intimidated as they were awed.
I tugged Ezra over to the wall as another wave of students flowed past us, chatting about dinner. We shared a look of amused resignation. Across the hall, Sin was talking to a girl with vivid pink hair—probably discussing hair dye.
The door beside us opened. Men and women walked out, and I figured these were the advanced-training alumni Ezra had mentioned. Twenty to twenty-five years old, the women lean and strong, the men broad-shouldered and sturdy.
They joined the throng of younger students, some stopping to greet Aaron and Kai. The stragglers halted in the doorway, blocked by the traffic jam. I eyed them curiously. A tall, handsome blond, a shorter guy with an upturned nose, and a woman with long black hair shaved on one side.
The blond guy glanced dismissively at Aaron and Kai. “Look who’s back,” he said to his friends. “How much do you want to bet Sinclair spent the afternoon showing off in lessons while daddy’s staff kissed his ass?”
My hackles rose. Holy crap, talk about venomous jealousy.