FORT HELD THE MAGIC OF Recuperation, and Restoring What Has Been on his lap as he sat on the floor of the Viewing Room. Just twenty-four hours earlier in the same room, a bunch of military officers had mocked and criticized him—at least in their heads. Fort didn’t want to think about how close they’d all come to that horror showing up even earlier in the day, considering how the lights had flickered then, too.
“Thanks for that, Sierra,” he whispered to himself before pricking his finger, then healing it. Drop of blood, cool healing energy, over and over, so many times he’d lost track long ago. And still he hadn’t mastered the first spell.
Did it matter, though, considering how much Dr. Opps and Dr. Ambrose both wanted him gone? He might not make it to the test, at the rate things were going. Not to mention that Cyrus saw him in a hospital bed later that day too, which was just great news. Even if it wasn’t true, Fort didn’t exactly need another thing to worry about.
Why did there have to be so many secrets at the Oppenheimer School? Why couldn’t people just be up front? Dr. Opps had even lied about never lying!
“Why is everyone hiding things?” he shouted into the empty room, then slammed the book of Healing down onto the floor next to him.
“You know, they don’t really like it when you mistreat the books,” a voice said behind him, and Fort felt a cold, sinking feeling. He whirled around to find Rachel watching him with a curious expression on her face.
He immediately blushed and turned away. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was there.”
“So you just beat up on books in private, then?”
His blush got deeper. “No . . . no! I just meant, um, about what I said.”
Rachel walked around to face him. “You seem upset, New Kid. Did those Chads all steal your uniforms? Is that what you mean by ‘everyone hiding things’?”
Fort opened his mouth to tell Rachel what was happening, then reconsidered. Every time he shared, he lost another friend. Maybe it was time to just keep his mouth shut for once. “It’s nothing. What are you doing here?”
“I’m always here,” Rachel said, coming over to grab The Magic of Destruction, and Its Many Uses, before sitting down next to him. “Whenever I’m not in class or training, I’m here. Colonel Charles gave me special permission.” She stopped and then raised an eyebrow. “How exactly did you get in? Your badge shouldn’t have worked. Only a few of us have permission to come in here.”
Fort turned even brighter red, not wanting to reveal that when he’d been turned away, he’d had to track Cyrus down to badge him in. “Oh, you know, I’ve got my ways.”
“Oh, so you’re hiding things now too?” She flipped open the book of Destruction and paged about a fifth of the way in. “Being mysterious is a lot less cute than people think, New Kid. And I know you had Cyrus get you in. I saw him do it. That was a test, and you failed at not being lame.”
“Call me Fort, okay?” he said. “New Kid just reminds me of Bryce and his friends.”
“Right, the Chads,” Rachel said. “If you stay long enough, Fort, you’re going to see there are two types of students here: the ones who work hard, and the ones whose parents got them in. Like that Sebastian guy in your classes, his mom’s a congresswoman. And the Chads’ parents are all rich, and donated to Sebastian’s mom and the other members of the congressional committee that really runs this place.”
“You seem more like a hard worker, if you’re always here,” Fort said, pricking his finger again. “Where did you come from?”
“Army brat, my whole life,” Rachel said. “My mother and father both worked their way up to sergeant major from private. Could have gone further, but they enlisted and never got a chance to go to officer school.” She half smiled as she formed a small icicle in the palm of her hand. “It’s the way the world is for enlisted folk. Most never get a chance to go any higher. Even if you work as hard as you can, there’ll always be someone who gets a head start.”
“Yet here you are, training after class,” Fort said.
“Gotta make Mom and Dad proud, don’t I?” she said, making a dancing flame in her other hand. She brought her palms together, and the flame melted the ice. “And what better way to do that than be the best?”
Fort nodded. He healed his finger, then read the words to the spell again. “If you’re the best, have you figured out any faster way to master a spell?”
“Most people do it in a week,” she told him, glancing at his book. “I’ve got it down to, like, three days at this point. Why?”
Fort snorted. “Dr. Ambrose gave me three days to master my first three spells. The test is tomorrow, and I haven’t mastered one yet.”
Rachel gasped. “No way! That’s completely impossible, even for me.”
Fort nodded. “That’s the general opinion. Doesn’t matter. I’m going to do it anyway.”
“You can try, but trust me, I know how this works. You’d have to stay up all night practicing, even if you had three full days left.”
“I don’t care.” He tried to hold back, but for some reason, the words just kept coming. “All I know is I can’t go home, Rachel. There’s too much here that I . . . I need to find out. And there’s nothing waiting for me back there, other than just being a burden to my aunt. Not to mention, who knows if it’s even safe, considering . . . anyway. I can’t go home. I can’t.” He realized he’d clenched his fists at some point, and the needle was poking into his palm.
“Whoa, okay,” she said, putting a hand out to calm him down. “Don’t hurt the book again. I get it. Well, I can’t help you master a spell faster, but there is one thing I could do.”
He cast his spell over his bleeding palm, letting the cool energy heal the wound. “Convince Dr. Opps to give me three weeks instead? I’ll take it.”
Rachel snorted. “No, but I can meet you here after class, before dinner, and let you in. If Cyrus does it again, someone’s going to ask questions, but they see me here every night. It’d only be for, like, an hour before they lock the whole thing down at dinnertime, but at least you’d have more study time.”
Fort gave her a confused look. “You’d do that? Why?”
Rachel laughed. “Wow, you really have had a tough couple of days if you question someone being nice. Remind me to talk to the Chads again. I’ll make sure they don’t bother you anymore.”
Fort felt his shoulders tighten up, and he shook his head. “That’s . . . thanks, but it’s okay. I can handle myself.”
“Not really. Not without magic to back you up.”
He felt the frustration begin to rise, and not wanting to turn it on her, he took a deep breath instead, then let it out slowly. “Listen. The whole reason I’m even here is to learn to fight back. I couldn’t do anything against that creature in D.C., and it makes me crazy every time I think about how . . . about my father. So whenever someone comes along and saves me, protects me, it just . . . I don’t know, reminds me of how useless I am.”
She gave him a sympathetic look, then patted him on the shoulder. “That makes zero sense,” she said. “Is this a boy thing, like you can’t have a girl show you up? Because trust me, I’ve humiliated every guy here, and I’m going to do it again tonight in training.”
“No,” Fort said. “I was just as annoyed when Sebastian protected me from the Chads too.”
“Oh, that would’ve been fun to see!”
“I just . . . I want to be able to stand up for myself, okay? I don’t know how to explain it any better.”
“Fair enough,” she said, standing up. “I promise that if I see you getting ganged up on, I’ll just keep walking. Happy to do it.”
Fort groaned, dropping his head into his hands. Why did he have to make enemies of everyone who was trying to help him? Why did it have to be so hard to explain what he was thinking? “I’m sorry, I think that all came out wrong.”
“Yeah, you could use some work, but that’s no different from anyone else here. Don’t worry, Fort. Just be glad I’m a great person and am still going to let you in here later. But be here before dinner, or you’re out of luck.”
She rubbed his head, messing up his hair, then left, laughing to herself. Fort sighed deeply, then turned back to the book of Healing, ready to learn Heal Minor Wounds again.
This wasn’t going to work. If someone as talented as Rachel took three days for one spell, what hope did he have? He ground his teeth together in frustration. Why can’t I even just learn the pathetic Heal Minor Wounds spell?! he screamed silently in his head.
But screaming wasn’t going to help anything. He picked up the book and started to open it to the first spell, only to stop.
The page was blank. But he’d just cast the spell a minute or two ago, so it should have reappeared already.
Just for kicks, he looked into his mind to see if the words were—
Mon d’cor. He still had the spell in his head.
“Are you kidding me?” he whispered, slowly pricking his finger, then concentrating on his other hand. A familiar cool energy flowed out from his palm, making the drop of blood on his finger disappear completely.
Almost too scared to try again, he pricked his finger one more time, and again, the words were there in his head. He’d actually mastered a spell, and faster than anyone else.
Maybe this wasn’t as impossible as they all thought! Could it be that things were beginning to go his way for once?