Academy Arcanist [Chps 9-10]

Hey peeps!

More Academy Arcanist. Next chapter has slight spoiler to main series, but these are fine!

CHAPTER NINE

THE GATES OF CROSSING

Once the Sapphire Dune drew close to the Gates of Crossing, I realized the metal ring was etched with pictures of ferrets. The cute little weasel-like creatures were circled around the ring, as though frolicking. Those were probably the rizzel. Professor Helmith had said they were creatures of great mobility and freedom.

The metal ring itself…

When I squinted my eyes, it appeared to be an ouroboros—a serpent eating its own tail. According to Professor Helmith, the ouroboros was the symbol of eternity, or sometimes infinity. A mythical symbol used by powerful arcanists to sometimes represent their influence.

The etchings of the rizzel glowed as our ship neared.

Sorin pointed. “Look at that, Gray! What’s going on? What are those things?”

“Those are the rizzel.”

“They’re so cute.” He turned to me, his jaw clenched. “Will those creatures take us to the Academy?”

I nodded once and then motioned back to the gate. “Just keep watching. You’ll see.”

Professor Helmith already told me all about the amazing powers of the rizzel. Now it was time to see them in action. I held my breath as the bow of the Sapphire Dune went through the Gates of Crossing—the whole ring glowed with such intensity, I had to shield my eyes.

The single star shard melted into the deck of the ship.

My body twisted. It felt as though I were being jerked through a wind tunnel. I coughed and hacked and stumbled across the ship. Then a gust of chilly air washed over us, sweeping across the deck in one frightening blast. When I managed to open my eyes again, I couldn’t help but laugh.

The Sapphire Dune wasn’t in the ocean anymore.

The ship had sailed through the gate and teleported to a whole new location.

We were now on a giant mountain lake. The clear waters reflected the blue sky above. Small rivers fed into the lake in the distance, but the ocean was nowhere to be found. Our giant frigate—a terror of the ocean waves—floated through the lake as though it had fallen out of a storm.

The Gates of Crossing stopped glowing. The little rizzel etchings returned to their dormmate state. The Sapphire Dune slowly floated across the calm waters.

It was harder to breathe here. My head hurt, and I had to rub at my temples.

Sorin grabbed my arm and shook me. He pointed to our surroundings, smiling wide. Then he took a few deep breaths, obviously struggling for some air.

“Where are we?” Sorin asked.

Eager to see the Academy, I glanced around. Cannons mounted to the mountain rocks were the first things to catch my attention. They were heavy guns—the types used to destroy ships, not injure them. They were pointed at the gate, at least six of them.

Would they have fired on us if weren’t permitted here? Professor Helmith said the Academy had its own defenses… Perhaps this was what she meant.

Then I turned my gaze to the peak of the nearby mountain. Pine trees surrounded the base—a massive evergreen forest of pointed tops and prickly leaves. Then the slate-gray mountainside rose up out of the forest, jutting high into the sky. At the plateau was a massive castle-like building made of black stone bricks and steel. White ivory accented the rooves, pillars, and balconies, glittering with pristine beauty.

Astra Academy.

The black stone bricks reminded me of the night sky. And the building was so high—like it was reaching for the stars themselves.

Distant mountains dotted the landscape all around us. We were in a valley of summits, far from civilization, yet somehow close, thanks to the Gates of Crossing. Other black buildings sat perched on distant mountaintops. Were they parts of the Academy as well? Was the Academy spread out throughout this whole area?

I counted at least five buildings, and that wasn’t including the main castle.

A long road up the mountain led to the massive front gates of the Academy.

“There it is, Sorin,” I whispered. I pointed to the castle facility. “Astra Academy.”

My brother shook me again, harder than before. The pain in my head intensified, but I managed to grin through it all. The elegant, yet haunting, Academy was unlike anything I had imagined. It was more mysterious and beautiful than my wild imaginings, even after Professor Helmith had described it to me.

“Where do you think the Menagerie is?” Sorin asked.

“Underneath.”

“In the mountain?”

“That’s what Professor Helmith said.”

When I glanced around a second time, I realized there were other Gates of Crossing around the edges of the lake. Four others. They glowed white as I stared at them, each shining in the center, and revealing a different—and distant—place. Four other ships sailed through, each crashing into the peaceful waters and then slowly rocking into a casual pace. The Gates of Crossing stopped glowing afterward.

The new ships were the size of our frigate, though each flew the flag of a different nation. One I didn’t even recognize. That boat was thin and flat, longer than most. The sails were harsh triangles. Where did it hail from?

Captain Minnis waved his arm. “Wake the passengers! Tell them we’ve reached Astra Academy. We’ll be weighing anchor shortly.”

“I’ll get our things.” Sorin rushed across the deck and slammed through a door under the quarterdeck. It only took him a few moments to return with both our backpacks. He jogged to my side, dropped the bag at my feet, and then pointed to the port. “We’re almost there.”

With a smirk, I said, “Excited yet? Think they’ll have a whole pride of griffins in there?”

“Finding this amazing castle, I thought it would be more of a hassle. Bathed in beautiful light, a simple answer to our plight.” Sorin crackled his knuckles. “You think that was good? I need to practice more.”

I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him close. In a low voice, I said, “You might want to cut down on that.”

“Why?”

“You don’t want to be alone forever, right? I think arcanist women aren’t going to find random rhyming or poems to be enduring. It’s kinda weird.” I released his sleeve as the Sapphire Dune leisurely drifted to the port. “I’m just lookin’ out for my little brother.”

Sorin sarcastically glanced at me, and then at himself, and then back to me, one eyebrow raised. “I think I’ll be fine.”

The Sapphire Dune docked at the lake port. The sailors ran to tie down the ship and secure the last of the sails. Sorin and I prepared to disembark. I had my bag on my shoulder, and my heart in my throat.

Once the sailors had the gangplank in place, I leapt down the wooden board and jogged toward the road connected to pier. Sorin was a little slower. He lingered back, waved to the captain’s griffin, and then hurried to catch up with me.

I slowed my run as I made it to the road. A single sign—wooden and warped with water—was the only thing waiting for me. The sign read:

FUTURE ARCANISTS

PLEASE WAIT HERE

The road up the side of the mountain was faded and overgrown with weeds. Had it been used anytime recently? The entire pathway was in desperate need of repair. I stared at the road as I made my way over to the sigh.

No one was here. It was… somewhat disappointing.

The other ships secured themselves to the docks. A flood of individuals poured out onto the piers, each carrying their belongings. The majority of people had more than one bag. Some people had pistols or swords blatantly hanging from their waist.

There were at least thirty people here, most of them wearing island attire. Long coats. Boots. Caps. They were around my age, and they stared at Astra Academy with the same wide-eyed wonder.

Nini shuffled her way through the crowds, her dark red hair shiny under the rays of the sun. She kept half her face buried beneath the collar of her oversized coat, her glasses barely poking up above the fabric.

Some of the other hopeful students called to form a line. Nini tapped the tips of her fingers together, her brow furrowed.

I waved her over to us, hoping we could stick together.

To my delight, she poked her head up a bit, a slight smile at the corner of her lips. She attempted to walk around some of the others, but a man grabbed her shoulder. Nini whirled around, her eyes wide.

The man—some circus act with a pointed hat and a long white cape—shoved Nini back into the crowd. “We’re forming a line,” he said matter-of-factly. “Pay attention.”

He was tall, and lean with muscle, I could tell, even through his fancy velvet fabrics. He also wore a black vest, tight fitted pants, and shirt with sleeves that ended in ruffles. Seemed ostentatious, but perhaps he wanted to stand out. He was the only weirdo with the pointed cap. It was the clothing equivalent of a slanted chimney.

Sorin stormed over to the man, which took me by surprise. I hadn’t seen that coming.

Before I could get any words out, Sorin stepped in front of Nini, coming between her and the pointed-hat man.

“Hey,” my brother barked. “What’s your problem? Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?”

“O-Oh, please don’t argue,” Nini said, her voice so quiet, it was immediately drowned out by the shouting from the nearby crowd.

The moment Sorin stepped closer to Pointed-Hat, a few of the men clapped their hands and whooped. They were clearly waiting for something interesting to happen.

Pointed-Hat wasn’t as large as my brother, though. He was at least half a foot shorter. And hesitation obviously chipped away at Pointed-Hat’s confidence. He gave my brother the once over and then forced a smile.

“You know what? You’re right. That was rude of me.” Pointed-Hat turned to Nini. “I should’ve used my words before reaching out like I did.”

Nini’s face was as red as her hair. She half-hid in her coat. “It’s fine.” Her words practically disappeared into the mountain winds.

Pointed-Hat grabbed the rim of his hat with two fingers. He tipped it slightly. “I’m Knovak Gentz, from the Isle of Ruma. And we’re forming a line. I would be ever so appreciative if you paid attention and followed suit. We’d like to maintain order.”

Gentz?

I half-huffed and half-laughed. The Gentz family was made up of a bunch of overachieving merchants. They sailed from island to island, exchanging all sorts of goods. And there were hundredsof Gentz. They were everywhere. Their whole family tree had grown so large it was circling back around itself and becoming a wreath.

“I-I’ll try to pay more attention,” Nini muttered, her gaze on her feet.

Sorin shuffled his feet for a moment, clearly torn. He glanced over to me, and I motioned him to speak. This Knovak fellow had taken the diplomatic route, so Sorin would have to do the same.

“I’m Sorin Lexly, from the Isle of Haylin,” my brother said. He bowed his head slightly, which was custom for everyone from the islands whenever meeting someone in a formal manner. Then he motioned to Nini. “And this is Nini Wanderlin. She’s from—”

“You fight her battles, andyou speak for her?” Knovak said with a sneer. “What a hero.”

Sorin gritted his teeth, his whole body tense. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Maybe if you also paid attention, you’d see that the girl was speaking just fine without your assistance.”

“What was that?” Sorin stepped closer to Knovak, his eyes narrowed into a glare. “Are you trying to start something?”

“You’re the one who lumbered over here, prepared to use your lummox strength to handle a perceived problem.” Knovak huffed out a chuckle. “You’re no longer needed, brute. Get back in line.”

A few people in the crowd laughed and encouraged more escalation.

“Teach him a lesson, Knovak! C’mon.”

Another person added, “This guy was lookin’ for a fight!”

“I don’t want this,” Nini whispered, but I was probably the only person who heard her as the wind carried her quiet words straight to me.

Knovak was one of the few people here with a sword. It wasn’t anything impressive—a basic short sword in a scabbard hanging from his belt. It was a straight edge, which meant it couldn’t be too long. Curved swords meant long blades—they were easier to pull from scabbards, even with their considerable length.

With his confidence obviously returning, Knovak placed his hand on the hilt of his weapon. “Did you hear me? We’re forming a line. Island bumkins should head to the back—before they get hurt.”

I had seen enough.

“Oh, look!” I shouted as I smacked the wooden sign. “It’s one of the Academy professors coming down the path!” Then I waved my hand upward, motioning to the overgrown road.

The crowd collectively flinched and then hurried to form their supposed line. They ran around the pier, their boots stomping on the wood boards, everyone hushing each other in an attempt to seem civil. Even Knovak straightened himself, taking special care to smooth his cape.

Sorin returned to my side, his hands shaky.

But Nini just opted to go all the way to the back of the line. She practically disappeared into the sea of people.

Silence descended over the group of hopefuls. I leaned on the sign, unable to stop myself from smirking. They were all so desperate to impress the Academy arcanists—it was an easily exploitable weakness.

“Sorin, you need to watch yourself,” I said to him under my breath.

“Sorry, Gray. That wasn’t how I imagined that going in my head…”

“Hey, where’s the professor?” someone called out from the middle of the line.

“Keep looking.” I pointed to a grouping of bushes. “I could’ve sworn they were right around there… With an eldrin and everything.”

Silence again. This time with squinted eyes and deep concentration.

What a bunch of rubes.

“He’s lying, you bumkins,” Knovak said through gritted teeth. He stepped out of the line, breaking formation. He grabbed the rim of his pointed hat and headed forward, anger alight in his eyes.

Before we could discuss the situation, or devolve into a fight, a pop of air caught my attention. I turned on my heel, thinking I’d see something small. Instead, two people had appearedout of thin air. They had blinked into existence right next to the wooden sign in a flash of white glitter and magic.

Were these people our professors?

CHAPTER TEN

ASTRA ACADEMY MENAGERIE

A man and a woman had appeared.

And then two creatures appeared shortly afterward, one large, one small. Those interested me a bit more than the people. My eyes went wide, and I caught my breath. Professor Helmith had told me about the eldrin of the arcanists who taught here, but I didn’t think I’d see some of them so soon.

A three-headed dog had appeared—a cerberus. It was giant. Muscled. And its short fur rippled with every movement. The beast reminded me of a black and rust colored hound, its six ears floppy and its tail sleek and long. The cerberus had a barrel chest, and lean legs, its paws and claws massive.

It was practically the size of a horse.

The other creature was a tiny white ferret with silver stripes. A rizzel. Just like on the Gates of Crossing. It was so small, and so fast, that it scurried to a spot behind the two people, disappearing from my sight.

The cerberus snorted and stood tall. Two of the canine heads stared with glowers, but the third head panted and smiled, observing everyone with wide eyes. When it caught sight of me, it smiled a bit wider, its white fangs apparent.

The man who had appeared had an arcanist mark on his forehead.

The seven-pointed star was intertwined with a three-headed dog.

He was a cerberus arcanist.

And he looked like it, too. It was hard to explain, but the man had the grizzled—and weathered—appearance of dog who had lived a long and difficult life outside. His leathery skin, dark tan, colored by the unforgiving sun, contrasted nicely with his white hair.

White hair…

It wasn’t from age. Although the man was grizzled, the cerberus arcanist appeared to be thirty—arcanists typically retained their youth, since they lived so long, never really aging. Which meant his white hair was probably natural. There were no gray locks, or any other color for that matter.

Even his eyebrows were white.

It made him seem a bit ridiculous, like his face was faded away. His darker colored skin made his beard more visible, which was helpful.

He wore white trousers, black boots to his knees, and plate armor over his shoulders and upper legs. His tunic, marked with dirt and paw prints, had seen better days.

“Quiet down, fellows,” the man shouted, his gruff voice practically blasting to the other side of the lake. He waved a gauntleted hand forward. “We have important information to cover before we take you to the Astra Academy Menagerie. My name is Guardian Captain Leon Slinn. You may refer to me as Captain Leon.”

The man placed his hands behind his back and straightened his posture. Then he narrowed dark eyes and examined the crowd, his square jaw practically jutting out further than his upper lip.

The woman who had appeared with him was less formal.

“Not so loud,” she said, her voice scratchy. She rubbed at her temples. “Just… don’t yell as much, all right, Leo?”

I had almost forgotten about her. She was the exact opposite of the cerberus arcanist—in every way. A woman. Slender. Shorter. Youthful and beautiful—nothing about her was grizzled. If the man was dog, this woman was a cat.

Her black hair, long enough to reach her waist, shimmered like oil.

She had the youthful appearance of someone in their early twenties—except for the dark rings under her eyes.

Captain Leon frowned, his white beard practically twisting with his deep disapproval. “Piper,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low, but that was impossible. “Get your act together. This is an important step to the acceptance ceremony.”

This woman—Piper, I supposed—wore a tasteful dress, but it was wrinkled near her ankles, and smudged with dirt, like she had dragged it on the ground. When she threw back some of her hair, I finally caught sight of her forehead.

She, too, was an arcanist.

Her star was laced with the ferret-like rizzel.

She, obviously, was the rizzel arcanist.

“Just get on with it,” Piper muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This speech doesn’t need to be too long, does it?”

Captain Leon frowned harder, if that was even possible. He turned, his chest puffed, and then glared at the crowd.

“Listen up! None of you are students of Astra Academy. Not yet, anyway.” The man held up a large, and armored, hand. “Our institution is one of the best—an elite school where we produce skilled arcanists. We have a reputation for excellence, which means a lot of people want to attend.”

Piper sighed, her eyes squinted.

Ignoring her, Captain Leon continued, “Thousands of people would love to attend, and some of them are already arcanists, or offer this institution hundreds of gold coin for the privilege of walking our halls. We turn away hundreds of individuals every year.”

Soft whispers wafted through the crowd. My brother and I stayed close to the wooden sign, slightly separate from the others, and I wondered if we should join them.

“However,” Captain Leon said, stressing the word. “Headmaster Venrover believes that everyone deserves a chance at greatness. It was his coin that brought you here today, not the Academy’s. He paid for the ships, paid for the star shards to activate the Gates of Crossing, and personally maintains the Menagerie. You should keep that mind before you enter the school—and be thankful that you were given this opportunity.”

“Okay,” Piper said with another side. “You don’t have to brow beat all the potential students.” She wobbled a bit. It was then that I realized she was wearing boots with tall heels. She was clearly struggling to maintain her balance.

Captain Leon quickly faced her. “Piper,” he hissed again, his voice a little lower, but still audible. “Your. Behavior. Is. Inappropriate. You shouldn’t be—” he lowered his voice to a soft growl, “—drunk during these introductory ceremonies.”

Sorin and I were the closest, and probably the only ones who heard the last bit.

Piper narrowed her eyes. “I’m not drunk,” she whispered. Then her expression softened, and she held up a finger. “I’m hungover. There’s a big difference.”

“There isn’t a difference.”

“No, ya see, one affects my abilityto perform, and the other just affects my desire to perform.” She waggled her finger and smirked like she had given irrefutable answer.

Their hushed conversation wasn’t sitting well with the other hopeful students. Collective sighs and frowns passed between them.

With his visible restraint waning, Captain Leon grabbed his beard and tugged downward slightly. He kept his jaw clenched, his face reddening. “Piper. Please. You’re on thin ice. You remember what the headmaster said. These are future students.”

“It’s fine.” Piper waved away the comment. “Most of these kids aren’t going to bond. After today, we’ll never see them again.”

The whispered conversations of the crowd grew louder. People didn’t know what was going on, just that something was wrong. I, on the other hand, wanted to laugh. This was the state of Astra Academy? Professor Helmith didn’t mention any of this kind of behavior. The captain was right. It was embarrassing.

As if sensing the agitation in the group, the cerberus stepped forward. The massive three-headed down flashed its fangs and growled.

Everyone went quiet.

Then the rizzel ran out from around Piper’s legs, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. He scurried over to the cerberus and then teleported to the beast’s back. The rizzel didn’t move with the boundless energy of a weasel, though. The little rizzel was sluggish, and his eyes half-shut, as though squinting back the light.

The captain and the hungover professor continued their quiet argument, but the cerberus moved between them and the crowd, blocking most people’s view of the situation.

“Enough,” one of the cerberus’s heads growled. It was the middle head, the one that lifted highest in the air. “Listen here. My name is Sticks, and I’ll be—”

“Sticks?” someone half-said, half-snorted. “That’s your name? Really?”

The other two heads of the cerberus inhaled, and then exhaled with such force it took everyone by surprise. Red and orange flames washed out of their mouths, pouring onto the road, pier, and nearby lakefront, the heat so intense, I had to close my eyes. The fire licked at my boots, and I hopped backward, stumbling into Sorin.

Shouts and cries of surprise rang out through the group.

“He’s gonna kill us!”

But the panic was unnecessary.

Once the flames stopped, I opened my eyes and noticed that the fire hadn’t actually hurt anyone. The flames had just scorched the ground and surrounding area. The other hopeful students were huddled close together, none of them making any comments anymore, some of them shaking so hard I thought they were shivering.

Sorin held onto my shoulder with a tight grip. I patted his knuckles, trying to let him know it was okay.

The dog just wanted to scare us into compliance.

The display of flames didn’t even stop Captain Leon and Piper from arguing. They muttered dark words to each other, bickering like old lovers.

“Yeah, that’ll teach you ingrates,” the rizzel said with a snort and chuckle.

His cute little ferret voice almost made me smile. He dragged himself up to the top of the tallest cerberus head, his own eyes ringed with darkness, like he hadn’t slept. Or he was part raccoon.

The rizzel stood on his back paws. “Listen up, punks. Sticks will be enforcing the rules, and I’ll be filling you in on the rest of the presentation.” He placed a paw on his little white chest. “My name is Reevy.” He glared at the group. “Anyone have a problem with that?”

Sticks snorted a few more embers from all three heads.

Everyone shook their heads and muttered a few quick platitudes. Even my brother remained stiff.

“I love the name,” someone said from the group. “I’m gonna name my first kid that name, that’s how much I love it.”

Reevy clapped his little paws together. “Quiet. There are, like, thirty of you here, right? Well, listen really hard. There are only twelve mystical creatures in the Menagerie. I assume you planks of wood can do the math?”

Tension replaced fear as the individuals in the crowd glanced around, quickly making eye contact with their fellow competitors. I hadn’t realized there were so few mystical creatures. That meant, that if all of them found someone to bond to, at least eighteen people here would still be sent home.

Reevy huffed, his little voice practically a squeak. “That’s right. Some of you will be going home. Especially since three of those twelve creatures have been here for years—they refuse to bond with anyone unless they’re the best of the best. You chumps are gonna have a hard time finding yourself an eldrin.”

If three of them wouldn’t bond, that only left nine creatures…

“So pay attention,” Reevy continued. “In a few moments, I’ll take you all to the Menagerie. You’ll have until nightfall to compete in the Trials of Worth. The Menagerie isn’t a maze—all the creatures have their own little areas where they’re the most comfortable, and it’s all laid out in a neat and organized manner. There’s no excuse for not finding a creature and attempting to prove yourself.”

Sticks wagged his tail. One of the heads turned up to look at Reevy. “I like the area with the pond and rocks.”

Reevy sighed, his exhale practically a groan. “You won’t be going, Sticks. Just the kiddos.”

One of the cerberus’s heads frowned as his tail stopped.

Knovak stepped forward, his pointed hat taller than everyone here, including the cerberus. He grabbed the rim and tipped it forward in a short bow of head. “Pardon me, but may I ask a question?”

Reevy crossed his little arms. “What is it?”

“Can you tell what twelve creatures are in the Menagerie? So that we can mentally prepare for the Trials ahead?”

“No,” the rizzel snapped, his voice practically a squeak. “It’s a surprise.” Then he coughed and muttered, “Mostly because I don’t go to the Menagerie often, and I forgot what all we have there.” He clapped his paws together. “Any other questions before we go? Or are you sandbags ready?”

“I think it’s inappropriate, and frankly rude, that you address us that way,” Knovak continued, clearly never satisfied unless he had the last word in a manner. “We’re all adults here.”

“We’re all adults here,” Reevy said, mimicking Knovak with a pompous tone. Then Reevy glared. “There are some things in life that if you have to say it, everyone knows its untrue.”

Knovak’s face brightened to a glowing crimson.

The rizzel glanced around. “Any otherquestions?”

I stepped forward, eager to ask something.

The rizzel turned to me, his dark eyes squinting. “Hmm?”

“Will Professor Helmith be there?” I asked. “At the Menagerie, I mean.”

The question got everyone’s attention, even all three heads of the cerberus. Clearly, no one was expecting me to ask about someone specific.

“Professor Helmith?” The rizzel stroked his chin. “What does it matter if she’s there or not? She’s not involved admitting new students.”

“Well… I’m just worried about her. I haven’t seen in her in a while, and—”

Reevy snorted and laughed once. “You? A friend of Rylee?” He waved a paw. “What a farce. She’d never associate with someone like you. She’s royalty. And talented. And she doesn’t mingle on tiny islands in the middle of nowhere.”

The crowd of hopeful students stared at me. A few pointed and exchanged whispered comments. I ignored them—their chattering wouldn’t stop my line of questioning.

Before I could add anything, my brother stepped forward. “Actually, Gray has seen Professor Helmith in his dreams. They talk all the time.”

A few people in the crowd laughed. The whispered conversations multiplied.

Sticks glanced over with two of his heads. One chuckled, exposing his canine fangs. “Yeah, I bet a teenaged boy would see Professor Helmith in his dreams.”

“Ha! Good one.” Reevy smiled. “But seriously—calm your horses, kiddo.”

“Is she okay?” I demanded. I didn’t care if they believed me—I didn’t care if they all made jokes—I just wanted to know if something had happened. “I haven’t seen Professor Helmith in three weeks. Has she gone somewhere in that time?”

Reevy huffed and didn’t answer.

But Sticks was different. One of his heads frowned. “Rylee is here at the Academy, doing her research. She keeps to herself. Nothing is wrong.”

His answer…

“Has anyone checked on her recently?” I asked.

I wanted to know more, but the laughing from the crowd intensified.

Someone said, “He just wants to search her room.”

“What a creep,” another person muttered.

“I can’t believe he admitted to dreaming about one of the professors.”

The rizzel clapped his paws together. “Enough! Enough. It’s time for me to teleport you to the Menagerie, got it?”

“Wait, I’ll do it,” Piper said as she stepped around Captain Leon. She walked with a stiff gait—and slow. Like she was trying to avoid tripping. “That’s my job. I’ll be taking the future students to the Menagerie.”

She moved closer to everyone and held out a slender hand. Then she motioned for the crowd to come over.

Sorin and I were the first to step close. I lifted an eyebrow, wondering what she would do. Rizzel arcanists could teleport people, obviously, but how would it work? I didn’t see another Gate of Crossing.

“Everyone hold hands,” Piper said. “And then we’ll go together.”

The many people gathered around did as they were instructed. I held Sorin’s hand, and somebody else’s, prepared for the transport. Once it seemed as though everyone were together, Piper smiled.

“Here we go. Don’t let go. That’s the most important thing.”

And then there was another sensation of being jerked around, like my insides were trying to escape my body. With a pop of air, and puff of glitter, we all disappeared.