The Awakening Read online

  “I’ll be there,” I said.

  An hour later, I was passing through the foyer of the Academy’s main building with Genie. Hilda and Indi joined us as well, all dressed in green and black, like the rest of the student population. There was a buzz of excitement as we moved with the gathering crowd out the front doors and toward the field where Erasmus and I usually trained in the morning.

  Speaking of Raz, my eyes wandered through the crowd, seeing if I could spot him.

  “Rey, you have to try a creamy corn! Oh, and penny pies! They’re my favorite.”

  Now she was speaking my language. I judged every gathering based solely on the quality and quantity of food.

  And I was not disappointed.

  In fact, the whole affair was something else. The field had been transformed, the place so busy with activity and wonders that I didn’t know where to look first. Banners boasting the schools colors had been raised, and they waved in the gentle wind, suspended in midair by magic.

  One side of the bleachers was packed with people from the Academy, all decked out in green and black, and the opposing side was equally full, the spectators wearing white and blue. The conversation was so loud that it created a sort of hum, mixed in with the sound of the marching band.

  The band played a hypnotic melody, swirling around the field in a way that was oddly visual, with little black music notes rising out of the instruments and floating up into the blue sky like bubbles. Between these notes, birds of prey dipped and soared, letting out screeching cries at varying intervals.

  Beyond the bleachers were various tents, where the smells of food drifted toward me, calling me like an insect to light. The tents were all green and black, the sigil of the Academy adorning their tops, people crowding around them to grab one treat or another. Because I was the best sister ever, I decided to get good seats before indulging.

  I followed Genie, Indi, and Hilda toward the home section of the bleachers, and we found a spot about midway up, offering a good vantage point of the field. I spotted Roo and her teammates at the same time she spotted me, and we waved at each other. Candy stood beside her in a matching uniform, and grinned widely when she saw our little group. I didn’t know anything about Sphera, the rules or how it was played, but I supposed I was about to find out.

  I was getting ready to head over to the food tents when I noticed someone else, standing near the perimeter of the area, looking as stoic as always.

  Erasmus.

  “He’s so hot,” said Genie, who was sitting beside me. She nudged me with her shoulder. “I’m still jealous you get to train with him.”

  I pulled my eyes away from him, realizing she’d caught me staring. “Meh, he’s okay,” I replied.

  Genie snorted. “Yeah right. Don’t play it cool, Rey. Dude is fine. I’m still not sure how you got him as your trainer. He doesn’t usually teach, only guards.”

  This was new information to me. “What do you mean? He doesn’t have any other students?”

  Genie shook her head. “I heard they offered him an official position when he graduated last year, but he turned it down, instead taking a spot as second in line to the Chief Cerberus.”

  I thought not for the first time about the Cerberus. Always dressed in black, the Cerbs could be spotted hanging around the gate and the wall. I was told that though they guarded the Academy’s entire estate, they were rarely visible anywhere else on the grounds–a testament to their agility and skills at going undetected.

  “How many affinities are there?” I asked.

  “Oh, there are many,” Indi offered, her almond eyes on the field. I noticed that the dark haired beauty never made eye contact when she talked. “The males just usually get the physical ones, like strength, reflexes, sharper senses. There are the elements, of course—earth, wind, fire, water, and spirit.”

  “Spirit?”

  “It’s among the rarest,” Hilda said. “And the more powerful. It usually involves necromancy, but it’s believed spirit users can access any of the affinities.”

  “And then there’s the darkness, of course,” Genie added. “Any witch can access that, but it comes at a price.”

  “Are any witches born with darkness as their affinity?” I asked.

  The three of them glanced at each other, their faces filling with something akin to fear. It was Genie who answered.

  “Less than a handful throughout history have been born with darkness as their affinity, but yes, it is possible. It’s the only affinity that’s equally as powerful as spirit. Those born with darkness as their affinity are also said to be able to access all of the other affinities.”

  Though it had been over a month now since I’d arrived at the Academy, there was still so much I didn’t know.

  “But we can all cast spells and make brews?” I asked.

  Genie nodded. “The magic is in our blood, so yes, we can all cast and brew.”

  “How do you know what your affinity is?” I asked.

  “It happens for different witches at different times,” Indi answered. “For some, it’s obvious pretty much as soon as they’re born, for others, it takes years to figure it out.” She held her hand up in front of her, palm up. As I watched, a bright red flame appeared there. “Mine is fire,” she said, the small flickering blaze reflected in the dark depth of her eyes.

  Genie flicked her fingers at me, and I flinched, laughing as a cool spray touched my face. “Mine is water,” she said, grinning.

  I looked at Hilda, and she shrugged. “I don’t really know mine yet,” she said.

  I searched for a change in subject, as I could see it was a soft spot with her.

  It came in the form of a deep drumbeat, so loud and thunderous that I jolted in my seat.

  Genie grinned over at me. “That means the game is about to start,” she said.

  The entire crowd took to their feet, and I followed suit out of some instinctual rule of human behavior.

  I was getting ready to ask what was happening when Headmistress Talia exited a dugout-like area and took center field. I noticed that Roo and her team must’ve retreated to this dugout, because they were no longer visible.

  As the headmistress stopped in the center, an enormous projection of her form burst out over the field, like a giant hologram, only glittering with magic rather than technology.

  When she spoke, her voice was also amplified. “Let us pray to the Goddess,” she said.

  I watched in curiosity as the gathered tucked their chins to their chests and closed their eyes. As one, they spoke words I had yet to memorize, though I’d heard them whispered by some before meals and at other various times.

  “We pray to the Goddess of Light and Goodness, and ask her to lead our way. We pray to the Giver of Life, the Mother of Magic, and ask that she bless this day. From the mountains of Rummelle to the waters of Gnarra, from the air of the Giant, to the fires of Hanna, bless us, dearest Goddess, we are your children, and you are our home.”

  With this completed, everyone took their seats, and Headmistress Talia proclaimed, “Let the game begin!”

  Cheers erupted all around us, and I found myself on my feet as well, scanning the field, waiting for my Roo to reappear. A moment later, she did, and I had to do a double take to recognize her.

  The uniforms they wore consisted of shorts and sleeveless jerseys, along with knee-high socks and cleats, but on the skin that was visible, intricate back patterns had been painted. They resembled tribal tattoos, and crawled up their arms, necks and even onto their faces, making for an overall intimidating effect. Both teams moved to the center of the field, staring each other down.

  But this was not what had me openly gawking. The beasts atop whose backs the players were sitting was what did the trick. They were enormous, sleek felines with coats of varying markings. The cat atop which Roo sat was striped, like a tiger, only the fur was blue and black, instead of orange and black. Though still massive, I noticed her mount was a little smaller than the others.


  Genie sat atop a much larger cat of all black. Some of the others were spotted like leopards, and others still with patterns I’d never seen the likes of in the human world. The felines, too, had been painted with symbols matching that of their riders.

  “What’s that paint on them?” I asked.

  “The symbols of the Goddess,” Indi said. “Some for war, meant to intimidate the other team, for speed and clear minds, and some for luck.”

  I noticed that the other team had similar markings, and was busy staring at them when the bleachers began to vibrate beneath me. At first, I thought it was just the movement of so many people, but then I saw the ground at the edges of the field splitting open, and large concrete slabs began to rise out of them, creating ramp-like structures along the edges of the field.

  The excitement in the crowd kicked up, the place practically buzzing now.

  A loud screech from above drew my eyes skyward, and I stared in wonder as an enormous half bird, half lion swept low over the field, a witch in black and white stripes riding its back.

  “That’s the referee,” Genie explained. “And she’s riding a griffon.”

  But I only had eyes for the griffon, my jaw hanging open and my heart hammering at the sight. Such a magnificent creature, with a wingspan that was double my height at least, and a beak that was sharp and large enough to shred, along with claws and a body of lean muscle.

  “I want to ride one of those,” I said, more to myself than any one else.

  Genie chuckled. “Don’t we all, but griffons are pretty rare, and they choose their riders. No one knows what makes them choose someone.”

  Conversation died out as the game kicked off. The referee hovered over the middle of the field, and after blowing a whistle, dropped a large rubber ball down to the players and felines waiting below. The goal was to force the other team out of bounds, hitting the ball with the long hockey stick-like clubs in their hands, using the ramps as surfaces from which to bounce and defend.

  By the time we reached halftime, my voice was raw from cheering Roo on, my cheeks flush with adrenaline. As we rolled into the second half, our team was up by three, two of which Roo had scored.

  I was on my feet, eyes glued to my sister as she raced down the field on the smaller, faster cat. Her club reared back, knocking the rubber ball off the slanted wall, the trajectory lined up perfectly toward the goal.

  But I didn’t know if it went in or not, because that was when the ground opened up and swallowed both the feline she was riding and Roo whole.

  19

  I shot to my feet, stunned.

  A strange silence fell over the crowd, all eyes going to the spot where Roo, two other players, and their enormous cats had fallen into a crevice that had suddenly appeared in the field.

  The sound of the earth splitting was like thunder, the effect instant. One moment, Roo was shooting another goal, and the next, it was as though the ground opened its mouth and swallowed her.

  When the earth began to shift again, as if to close with her and the other players still inside, my heart stopped dead in my chest. I was shoving my way down the bleachers before I even knew what I was doing. All I could think of was getting to Roo.

  On the field below, the crevice in the earth that had swallowed her continued to close. The crowd broke out into gasps and shouts for help, but I barely heard them. Along with my adrenaline, I felt my magic stirring in my blood, tingling just below the surface.

  By the time I reached the field, it felt as though the magic was ready to burst right out of me.

  The crevice into which Roo had fallen was only a handful of feet wide. If it closed any further, Roo and her cat would be crushed. Just the thought made me crazy. There was a heartbeat where I kneeled peering into the still closing gap, looking down at Roo, Candy, and a player from the other team. Each had fallen off their mounts, and held their arms out at their sides, as if they could stop the encroaching earth with their physicality, looks of terror on their faces.

  But I only saw Roo. Selfish, maybe, but in truth, I’d let the entire world burn if it meant saving her, in every situation, every single time.

  Seeing her like that, the magic in me roared until it became a buzzing beneath my skin, in my ears. I didn’t remember doing it, but I was on my knees, fingers digging into the thick grass of the field. Roo’s face. All I could see was Roo’s face.

  Less than four feet of space for her to stand in now, the great cat beside her letting out an instinctual chuff of concern as the earth continued to close.

  “Rey!” she shouted up at me, all the world hanging on that word.

  Magic exploded out of me and into the ground, so strong that it shook the dirt beneath me, so potent that my head rocked back, my hair blowing outward as if in a swift wind.

  Three feet now. Three feet of space for my little sister to stand in.

  I pushed harder, dug deeper, feeling that well of power within me that was still so new, and yet so familiar. I spiraled down into it, warning bells going off in my head, and utterly ignoring them. Deeper and deeper. There seemed to be no bottom at all.

  And the crevice in the earth had stopped closing, grinding to a halt that was as audible as it was visual.

  I was offhandedly aware that the crowd had fallen eerily silent around me, that everyone present seemed to be holding their breath. My head was growing light, like it weighed so little that it might float right off my shoulders. I felt veins pulsing in my neck, in my arms, my jaw clenched tight enough to ache.

  “We have to help her!” Roo shouted to Candy and the other girl trapped with them.

  The two girls exchanged a look like that was the very last thing they wanted to do.

  “Now!” Roo snapped, her expression hard as she looked at them.

  Though they still looked reluctant, this awakened them. The three of them joined my efforts, placing their hands on the earth that was still trying to devour them, burrowing down into whatever magic they had.

  It was a jolt as their power mingled with mine, the biggest portion of it obviously coming from Roo. Our magics seemed to recognize each other, to wind around one another until I could not tell where mine began and hers ended. If I’d thought my own well of magic was deep, Roo’s and mine together was inexhaustible, infinite. I heard Candy and the other girl gasp, knowing they must’ve felt it, too. Their magic was like a single star in a universe of mine and Roo’s, hardly even noticeable.

  The crevice began to stretch back open, the earth groaning as it did so, the ground beneath me shaking as though by a quake. The felines’ survival instincts kicked in, and they leapt out of the crevice, barely scrambling up and over the edge as their deadly claws razed the earth, leaving their riders to their fates.

  I didn’t realize he was standing beside me until he spoke.

  “Give me your hand!” Raz called down, stretching his arm into the crevice.

  The girl from the other team gripped it, and Raz lifted her out as though she weighed nothing. She fell onto her bottom once she was topside, legs giving out beneath her, and crab-walked back away from the opening, eyes wide as saucers. Then she passed out, obviously too shocked for anything else. I felt her little blip of magic mingle into my own, and realized that despite this, my grip was slipping.

  It was getting harder and harder to hold the earth open.

  Candy took Raz’s hand next, and had I not been so absorbed, I might have barked at him to get Roo instead. By the time Candy was scrambling away from the opening, the crevice was starting to slip closed again. I noticed from the edge of my vision that Candy also buckled, her body slumping to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  Raz moved closer to me, and I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t dare remove mine from Roo, who was staring up at me with all the trust in the universe stretching between us.

  “You’ll have to hold it on your own if I’m going to get her,” he said, deep voice right next to my ear. “Can you do that?”

  I nodded, not ent
irely sure that I could, and had I more mind to offer to the matter, I might’ve screamed out an inquiry about why no one else was coming to help me. Instead, all I managed was a nod. I would move the earth for Roo even if it killed me.

  Sucking in a deep, shuddering breath, I nodded. Raz reached a hand down for Roo. My little sister gave me a final look, then removed her hands from the earthen walls enclosing her and gripped Erasmus’s.

  I felt her magic leave mine as though it was air knocked from my lungs, a punch to the gut or solar plexus. I even heard myself groan in response, and felt my already loose grip on the earth slipping, the crevice closing faster and faster, inch by terrible inch.

  Then she was out, Raz hauling Roo up and over the edge, her toes leaving the gap just before it snapped closed.

  She was in my arms before I could inhale. The adrenaline leaving me as though I were a punctured balloon. I squeezed Roo, and she squeezed me back, and as my right mind settled back over me, I realized that we were surrounded by absolute silence.

  Every eye present was locked on us, unreadable expression on their faces.

  I wanted to lash out.

  The earth had been literally about to swallow my sister whole, and not one of the bastards present—save for Erasmus—had lifted a finger to help.

  What the hell was wrong with them? I’d barely been able to hold the crevice open on my own, and even a little of their magic could have made it way easier, a less closer call.

  “You need to calm down,” said a deep voice beside me.

  My head snapped toward the speaker, fire crackling under my skin, in my veins.

  Erasmus met my eyes without flinching. “Reini, you need to calm down,” he repeated.

  A hand slipped into mine and squeezed gently, and had it been anyone else in the world, I’m not sure what would’ve happened next. But Roo said, “He’s right, Rey. You’re…glowing with magic.”

  Her words made me blink. I looked down at myself, shocked to see that she was right. I wasn’t glowing, exactly, but I was shimmering, the surplus of magic still coursing through me making a visual display. I clenched my teeth, my fists, willing it to recede back to wherever it went when I wasn’t calling upon it, noting that the looks on the faces of the observers were not, in fact, unreadable.