Outlier: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Sentry of the South Book 1) Read online

  With Mercer Lake on our left and the gateway in front of us, I realized what an impressive sight it must seem to a newcomer. The arched windows and the purple flag embroidered with a golden ’S’ atop the highest turret. The gateway and towers. The academy was often described as part stronghold, part academic institution.

  “You’ll find the residential buildings on the eastern side, facing the lake,

  “This is home. My room is on the eastern side, facing the lake.” I pointed in the general direction. We passed through the gateway and I directed him to the building on the right, that housed the chancellor’s office.

  “We don’t need an appointment?” he asked.

  “Not for an emergency like this,” I said. We entered the building and I noticed Peter’s interest in the tapestries on the wall. “Don’t even think about smuggling anything out of here.”

  He chuckled. “And incur your wrath, princess? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  I spotted Hazel Hazeldine, the chancellor’s secretary, at the end of the corridor and waved to get her attention. The stout older woman with rosy cheeks bustled over to us.

  “Is the chancellor available?” I asked. “I need to see her about an urgent matter.”

  Hazel’s eyes rounded. “You’re not the only one, miss. A couple of wardens came by earlier. It seems Professor Fraser has gone missing.”

  I tried not to react. Hazel was always a good source of confidential information. If her lips were any looser, they’d drag on the floor.

  “Really?” I asked, adopting a casual tone. “Did you manage to catch anything they said?”

  Hazel lowered her voice. “My ear may have brushed up against the door while they were in there.”

  I pretended to be surprised. “You don’t say.”

  “They’ve got their eye on some wily criminal,” Hazel continued. “The sheriff’s office has issued a warrant for his arrest. The whole place is abuzz.”

  “Based on what evidence?” I asked.

  “They found the professor’s daily planner and his private lab is in complete shambles,” Hazel said. “He was scheduled to meet with the lad in the morning and hasn’t been seen or heard from since then.”

  Well, that explained the not-so-friendly visit from the sheriff’s office. “Anything else?” I asked.

  Hazel gave a quick shake of her head. “A shame, really. Poor lamb only just started here and now this. He seems like an affable wizard. I hope he’s all right.”

  “Me, too, Hazel.” I gestured toward the chancellor’s office. “Is it safe to go in now?”

  “Absolutely, miss,” Hazel said. “Would you like me to introduce you and your friend?” She acknowledged Peter for the first time.

  “That’s okay. I’ll do it,” I replied. Hazel’s mouth was far too big to trust with the news that Peter Zilla, wanted criminal, was right here on campus.

  “She has a meeting offsite soon, so you’d best get in there,” Hazel warned.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Peter and I continued to the end of the corridor where the chancellor’s office was located. I knocked on the doorjamb and poked my head inside. Chancellor Lindsey Tilkin sat behind her imposing desk with her white-blond hair slicked back in an elegant French knot. Just once I wanted to see the elegant witch in cat pajamas sporting a severe case of bedhead.

  “Chancellor? May I have a word?” I asked.

  The chancellor’s head peeked out from behind an oversized book with a shining silver overlay. “Miss Degraff, please.” She motioned me forward. As usual, her familiar, Hestia, was sprawled across the desk. Her brow lifted almost imperceptibly when she noticed Peter. “I see you’ve brought a friend.”

  “Chancellor Tilkin, this is Peter Zilla.”

  She set down the heavy book with a thud. “Mr. Zilla. What an unexpected surprise. This is the second time today I’ve heard your name.”

  “I think I can guess the topic of conversation,” Peter replied. “It’s an honor to meet you, Chancellor.”

  Chancellor Tilkin shifted her attention to me. “Do we need to alert the authorities, child? What is the meaning of this visit?”

  I sat in a chair opposite the chancellor’s desk and indicated for Peter to do the same. “We know that Professor Fraser is missing and that Peter is a suspect.”

  “A suspect?” the chancellor repeated. “They’ve issued an arrest warrant.”

  “Based on purely circumstantial evidence,” Peter interjected. “Yes, I had a meeting with Fraser, but he never showed up. He and I have a long, positive history. I have no reason to hurt him.”

  “I told Peter that we can help him,” I said. “You know how this works. If they’re convinced he’s the culprit, they won’t search for anyone else. Professor Fraser will continue to be missing, possibly worse, and all because law enforcement is focused on the wrong suspect.”

  The chancellor glanced from me to Peter. Hestia swished her tail, and the chancellor reached across the desk to soothe the savage beast. “Is that so, Hestia?” She studied Peter for a beat. “You are a druid, Mr. Zilla. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Yet you do not use your healing power.” Her tone suggested that this decision was unacceptable.

  “Last I checked, I’m under no obligation to heal anyone.” Peter seemed remarkably relaxed under the circumstances. Chancellor Tilkin was viewed as an intimidating force of nature by many.

  “And how do you utilize your abilities as a druid?” she pressed. “Do you provide spiritual or metaphysical guidance to those who seek it?”

  “No, ma’am,” he replied. “Definitely not my area of expertise. I’m far too jaded.”

  “I see.” She threaded her fingers together, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she continued. “Do you have the gift of prophecy?”

  “I wish,” he replied. “It would’ve saved my hide on many occasions.”

  I couldn’t watch this dance carry on. “He’s a smuggler, Chancellor. He freely admits it.”

  The chancellor looked down her nose at Peter. “And does this smuggling include living creatures?”

  “No, never,” Peter said heatedly. “I told you, Fraser’s like a father to me. I didn’t have a dad growing up and Fraser was the first guy to treat me like family.”

  I tried to hide my surprise. Although he’d mentioned their long history, I hadn’t realized the full extent of their relationship.

  “Given your history, do you know of any reason why Professor Fraser may have gone missing?” Chancellor Tilkin asked.

  “Right now I’m preoccupied with not ending up in prison. It seems to me the best way I can help Fraser is to lay low, avoid arrest, and figure out where he is.”

  Chancellor Tilkin sat quietly. Finally, she said, “Mr. Zilla, would you mind leaving for a moment so that I may speak alone with Miss Degraff?”

  “No problem,” he said, and launched himself out of the chair and straight out the door. With a flick of the chancellor’s wrist, the door swung closed behind him.

  A knot began to form in the pit of my stomach.

  “What is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Zilla, child?” the chancellor asked.

  “There’s no relationship,” I objected hotly. “I only met today him on an errand for…my family.” I stopped short, unable to say the reason. The last thing I needed was to cause trouble for my gravely ill grandmother.

  The door cracked open and Hazel’s head appeared. “Don’t forget you have that meeting,” she said.

  “I am aware of the time. Thank you, Hazel,” the chancellor said.

  Hazel bowed once before retreating from the office. I heard the door click gently behind me, though I had no doubt Hazel lurked outside, trying to decipher the words being spoken.

  “Why would you have business with a known smuggler?” the chancellor asked.

  I wore my most innocent expression, the one I used to wear when it was clear that someone had dipped into the supply of choco
late-covered burstberries in my father’s study. “I didn’t know who he was. I was sent to see someone else, but he’d retired and Peter was there instead. Some rather intimidating paranormals arrived with weapons, so Peter and I fled to safety. It was only when we returned that we realized they were from the sheriff’s office because they left a copy of the warrant.”

  Chancellor Tilkin tapped her slender fingers on the desk. “So you were in what some might consider to be a compromising position with a known criminal, yet your response is to bring him here to the academy? Not the work of a future sentry, is it?”

  Hestia lifted her head from its prostrate position on the desk, as though interested in hearing my response. She was as nosy as Hazel.

  “He didn’t even know the professor was missing until he read the warrant,” I argued.

  “You are aiding and abetting, Miss Degraff,” the chancellor said. “By bringing him here, you are assisting a fugitive. Do you understand?”

  “Peter isn’t responsible for Professor Fraser’s disappearance,” I insisted.

  Her pale brow lifted. “And how do you know this for a fact?”

  I plucked a loose thread on my cloak. “Because he told me so.”

  Chancellor Tilkin regarded me coolly. “He told you so.” She drummed her fingers on the desk with more force than before. “The admitted criminal told you so and, therefore, you have accepted his word as fact. Miss Degraff, what am I missing? This does not sound like the intelligent young witch I’ve had the honor of knowing this past year.”

  I met her troubled gaze. “I know it sounds strange, but I believe him. You heard what he said. Professor Fraser is a father figure to him. He wants to find the professor as much as anyone. He won’t say it outright, but I think he’s shaken up by the whole thing.”

  “Have you considered that the professor may not have been abducted, but rather is hiding from someone?” the chancellor asked. “Perhaps he wishes to avoid Mr. Zilla. A business arrangement gone sour?”

  “I don’t think he’s hiding from Peter. They were supposed to meet the morning he disappeared, which is the only evidence the sheriff’s office seems to have against Peter.”

  “Exactly my point,” the chancellor replied. “Perhaps Professor Fraser chose this opportunity to disappear and avoid his rendezvous with Mr. Zilla, expecting dire consequences.”

  “Peter isn’t dangerous.” The more she pushed, the more I pushed back. At this point, I wasn’t sure I entirely believed my own story, but my heels were too deeply dug in.

  “You sound very certain of this, considering, by your own admission, that you’d only just met him.” With her calm voice and reassuring manner, Chancellor Tilkin had a way of admonishing you without actually taking you to task. Somehow, she managed to elevate it to an art form. “Very well then. I shall make arrangements with the sheriff’s office to set aside the warrant for the next week. That will allow a more thorough investigation of other possibilities.”

  “Thank you, Chancellor,” I said. “I know it may seem hard to believe, but Peter is innocent.” And now there was no choice but to help him prove it.

  Chapter Five

  Following our meeting with Chancellor Tilkin, Peter was eager to pay a visit to Professor Fraser’s private lab. He had a brief reprieve and he wasn’t about to waste it.

  “Hazel was right,” I said, surveying the scene in the lab. “This place is in shambles.” No wonder law enforcement suspected wrongdoing. With broken glass and dried potions on the floor, the lab had clearly been ransacked, but the agents had made sure to preserve its messy state while the investigation was pending.

  “Anyone could have been here,” Peter said. “This place wasn’t a secret.”

  “Any chance Fraser’s just a slob?” I asked.

  “Fraser’s a meticulous wizard. He’d never do this to his lab. He wouldn’t be able to work under these conditions.”

  I inhaled deeply as I navigated the broken pieces on the floor. “He either did not go willingly or he destroyed the contents himself to prevent someone from taking something,” I said.

  “I wish I knew what he’s been working on,” Peter said, stooping to examine a dried blob of green liquid on the floor. “He sometimes talks about new projects, but we mostly discuss my shenanigans. Fraser takes an interest. Always has.”

  “It’s nice to have someone like that in your life,” I said. I took out my wand and conjured a spell that created a magnifying lens that I could use to study the potion remnants. “Looks like the wardens are trying to figure out which potions he was working on here.” I pointed to the evidence of scrapings.

  Peter maneuvered around the lab, careful to avoid any fragments. “Wherever he is, he seems to have taken his notebook with him.”

  “He kept a notebook?” I asked. That fact didn’t surprise me. If he were as meticulous as Peter described, then he would definitely keep a record of his potions. I stopped in front of a trail of red speckles on the floor. “Peter, come and see this.”

  He craned his neck to look at me. “What is it?”

  “I don’t think this is from a potion.” I crouched down for a closer look with my magnifying glass. “I might be able to do a spell that analyzes it.” If only Bryn were here. Thanks to her father’s genes, she had power over blood. She’d be able to figure this out in two seconds.

  Peter kneeled beside me. “You’re a witch, right? Can’t you just make it liquid again?”

  I stared at him. “That’s…actually really smart.”

  Peter chuckled. “Don’t sound so surprised, princess. I’m capable of intelligent thought—occasionally.”

  I set aside my wand and summoned my magic. The power rose within me, ready to do my bidding. I held a hand over the speckles and generated just enough heat to turn them back to liquid form.

  Before I could do anything else, Peter swiped a sample with his finger and licked it. I grimaced.

  “Yep, it’s blood,” Peter said.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” I said.

  Peter appeared unabashed. “What? I’m a healer by nature. Blood is nothing to us.”

  “Yes, but you’re not a vampire,” I countered. “You shouldn’t go around licking others’ blood.”

  “I don’t go around doing it,” he replied. “This is an emergency situation.”

  “Is it Fraser’s blood?” I asked.

  He shot me an amused look. “How should I know?”

  “Then what was the point of tasting it?” I asked, incredulous.

  “You wanted to confirm it was blood,” he said matter-of-factly. “So I’ve confirmed it.”

  “You said he was creating a synthetic blood sample for you,” I said. “Is it possible the specks can be a result of that project?”

  “No, this is the real deal,” Peter said. “Not synthetic.”

  “You can tell?”

  “That much, yes,” he replied.

  I scrutinized the drop of blood in front of me. “What a weird skill,” I murmured.

  “No weirder than flaming fingers,” he shot back.

  “I guess this still doesn’t tell us much,” I said, disappointed. “It could be Fraser’s blood, but even if it is, it could be from something he did to himself. An accident in his haste to leave here.”

  Peter scanned the area. “Possibly. He could have cut himself on one of the broken pieces.” His expression clouded over. “Or someone could have drawn blood when they smashed up the lab during the kidnapping.”

  “You said he did work on the side sometimes,” I said. “Could he have been hired to make a potion for a dangerous element, like a cartel? Maybe they weren’t happy with his performance?”

  Peter investigated the debris on the table, trying not to disturb any evidence. “It’s unlikely. I told you before—Fraser’s a good man.”

  “You said he had a line he wouldn’t cross. What is it?”

  “He has an honor code,” he said. “He doesn’t take any request that comes his way. He
rejects as many jobs as he accepts.”

  “But he was willing to help you skirt the law with your fake ID and who knows what else?” I said. “What kind of honor code is that?”

  Peter fixed me with a serious look. “There are degrees of honor. I’m not hurting anyone by sneaking in and out of the human world.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I asked. “Maybe we should ask those impacted by your smuggling operation?”

  Peter clenched his jaw. “I have reasons for what I do.”

  “And I’m sure whoever happened here—whatever happened here—had their reasons, too.”

  “Let’s just agree to disagree, okay?” Peter said. “I’d rather we focus our energy where it belongs.”

  A noise outside alerted us to imminent visitors. Peter put a finger to his lips.

  “I’m telling you I saw movement,” a voice said.

  Peter dropped to the floor and I followed suit. Now would be the ideal time for an invisibility spell, if only the academy would teach them to second years. It was one of the few advanced spells my family refused to teach me as a child because they recognized the potential for trouble. Although I’d been a well-behaved child, even I’d been capable of a spot of mischief every now and again.

  “Not possible. This place is warded to the hilt,” a second voice replied.

  “Not today,” the first voice said. “They lowered the wards because they’re coming back to pack up more evidence. They didn’t bring enough containers for the potions last time.”

  “Any magic for this situation?” Peter whispered.

  The door scraped open and my heart began to pound. Just because I didn’t have an invisibility spell didn’t mean I couldn’t disguise us somehow. Inwardly, I called to my magic and it quickly answered, sending crackles of energy through me. The elements were always clamoring for my attention, but I knew I needed a different kind of magic right now. I raised my wand and made clockwise circles in the air in front of us.

  “What are you doing?” Peter asked.

  “Chameleon spell,” I said in a hushed tone.

  “Camouflage?” he mouthed, and I nodded.