Chapter Twelve
My mother blew her whistle and the crowd in Agnes Sampson Hall fell quiet.
I rubbed my tired eyes. I’d left the party soon after Alex went upstairs to sleep, only a little past ten. But the excitement of our conversation had kept me up much longer than usual. I’d finally drifted into dreamland at around two in the morning. Unfortunately, my dreams had not been restful, but a strange mishmash of me failing the final trial that would later switch to scenes of Alex and me making out. And six in the morning came even earlier than usual after a night of fitful dreams.
My gaze shifted to my friends. Their coffee cups were clenched in their hands and dark circles ringed their eyes. They’d both admitted to partying until three in the morning—the crazy fools. I took a small amount of solace in the fact that they couldn’t have been alone. Maybe most of my competition was dead tired too?
As if sensing my nerves, Father laid a soft hand on my shoulder. He would not be permitted to watch the magical exam—only judges and ex-headmasters were allowed that privilege—but he’d still wanted to walk me to it. Seeing as Mother was still tense and obsessed with whoever had “attempted to break into” her office, I appreciated Father’s calming presence.
“You’ve got this, Di-bear,” he whispered so that no one else could hear.
I placed a hand over his and squeezed. “Thanks.”
“Today is the final entry exam—the test of magic,” Mother’s voice boomed over the crowd, resonating off the dark wood walls of the large hall. “You’ll find that the magic trial is tailored to push your range on a variety of magics. Spellcasters does not expect you to have mastered upper level incantations or manipulations of power before enrollment. However, wedoexpect our students to arrive knowing the basics and how best to use them in a variety of dangerous situations. That being said, I shall show you to the Battle Magic classroom, where the exam will take place.”
Realistically, I would have to bomb the final test to be denied a place at Spellcasters. And yet, despite knowing this, butterflies intensified in my stomach with every step I took toward the Battle Magic classroom.
It all felt so final. Once this trial was over we’d be done. Not only done, but we’d beranked. While Culling-year students weren’t ranked as spymaster, sorcerer spy, or emissary spy like the upper classes of Spellcasters, the ranking still mattered a lot. Our performance in these exams became public knowledge. Potential employers, the government, the Supernatural Society of Spies, those at other spy schools, and all Spellcasters families could look up our results.
Only the students from legacy families who opted for thelegacy route—freeloaders even worse than Jackson who simply claimed their spot at Spellcasters and skipped into the academy on the first day—were exempt from having their rank broadcast to the world.
In short, I needed to excel. My reputation could depend on it.
The Battle Magic classroom was located in the basement. It was absolutely massive, at least the size of a football field, and the ugliest room in Spellcasters. It was totally devoid of the rich brown wood, artwork, and the stained-glass windows that adorned the hallways above. Instead, in the Battle Magic room plain cement and cruel metal reigned. And today the walls looked particularly bland and sad, as the weapons that usually lined the room had been taken down and stored elsewhere, leaving behind only hole-riddled walls.
As soon as I entered the classroom, my skin tingled. Wards were always active down here. They were placed around the two doors funneling into the stairwells that led to the rest of the academy and the two locker room doors. The wards’ job was to prevent magic from escaping. And since it was testing day, I assumed that professors had placed even more protective spells around the area. That way judges and ex-headmasters who chose to view the exams from perches that lined the walls high up, kind of like a catwalk, would remain safe.
“This is our Battle Magic classroom,” Mother swept her arm behind her. “It’s one of the most secure rooms in the academy. As such it is also the best place to deduce how well students can defend themselves and react under pressure.” My mother blew her whistle.
In response, something moved near the locker room and the crowd behind me parted.
I sucked in a breath as what they were moving for became obvious. A group of people had appeared from the locker room. Right away I knew they were magicals brought to Spellcasters specifically for this exam—our opponents.
One, a boy so pale that his skin was almost luminescent, was certainly a vampire. He looked younger than me, but I wasn’t putting any stock in that meaning that he was unskilled. Being a vampire meant he could be a thousand years old and still look like a scrawny teenager.
Another magical prowled along the edges of the group. She was a couple of years older than me and her amber eyes marked her as a wolf-shifter. My gaze trailed to the person beside her, also around my age. While I couldn’t tell what animal he turned into, I knew that he was also a shifter, perhaps feline if his loping gait was any indication. I suspect that the Shifter School of Spies had sent the pair at my mother’s behest.
Then there were the demi-fae, almost definitely from the Fae Academy of Elemental and Arcane Arts. One of the girls had thrown off the glamour that allowed her to pass as human, revealing her blue skin and gills that graced her neck. The other was short with pointed ears and long, claw-like nails.
Last to leave the locker room were the witches. Professor Thrax of Battle Magic, Professor de Spina of Demonology, and Professor Umbra of Conjuring. Each wore a sly smile, like they were itching to get the exam started.
“These are your opponents,” Mother announced. “You will be put through a test against each variant of magical. As ever, the test will be timed. If you take longer than forty minutes, you will be disqualified from this exam. Those with the fastest times will be awarded the most points. And yes, we are prepared to keep you here all day and night, should that be necessary to complete the exams.”
“And we’re taking the test in here?” someone asked, their tone disbelieving.
Collectively, the crowd’s gaze scanned the vast cement room, and a mixture of emotions cropped up on everyone’s faces. A wide open space had both pros and cons. If we faced each adversary individually, it would be a benefit. Whereas fighting all the adversaries at once would be a total nightmare.
A smile grew on Mother’s face. She then turned to the Spellcasters professors and nodded.
Suddenly, conjurings appeared before us in the shape of hedges. It was a maze, or hopefully just a trail, that we’d have to fight our way through. My heart rate sped up, and Father stiffened, clearly already anticipating all the things that could go wrong within the hedges.
“Actually, you’ll be taking the exam inthere,” Mother said. “And we’ve already chosen the order in which you’ll take the exam. The first participant up to the plate is Amethyst Rhines. Everyone else, please wait in the girls’ locker rooms.”
I was only five minutes into the magical exam and had already conquered two physical obstacles and one opponent. The mountain lion-shifter had been surprisingly easy to defeat. I’d managed to pin him down using a massive wooden pallet. The ease in which I’d beaten him basically solidified a suspicion I’d had that most of our adversaries were students from other spy schools.
I was just beginning to wonder which magical would appear next, when the vampire leapt in front of me.
“Holy crap!” I leapt back against a hedge. Before I was completely out of his way, however, the vampire’s fist slammed into my shoulder.
