Chapter 9

10:55 AM September 13th 2026

New York Preparatory Academy, New York, NY

After three hours sitting in the office Anna’s butt was getting sore. She’d tried to get up and stretch her legs, but the Assistant Dean had snatched up a yardstick from next to his desk, and menacingly smacked it on the edge of his desk before pointing at her threateningly then back at her just vacated seat. Geez, that guy was so over the top. He might as well have been pointing two fingers at his eyes and then at her to indicate that he was watching her.

Where did he get that stick from anyways? From her position, she should have been able to see the object. Yet when she observed him putting it away, the thing just kind of disappeared. As if it had been subsumed into the material of his desk. Maybe it was a warlock pact item from his patron –

Did he have a patron? Was he a warlock? She didn’t know. Until this morning Anna had never spent this much time with the school’s administration. She wasn’t even sure if she’d ever been in the office. Sure, she’d walked past it literally hundreds of times. But inside?

And now she’d been here for hours.

Hours!

So many hours!

Hours, and hours, and hours, and hours.

Next to the stuck-up, spoiled little shit-for-brains, cunty bitches – No. Stop. She had to stop. If she got riled up, she might start oozing cold. Once she got too upset, she was going to become a hazard to others. So…calm. She had to be calm.

While sitting on this hard, hard, wooden torture device of a chair. Seriously! Who still uses wooden chairs in schools? It wasn’t even enchanted for comfort. Nor was it one of those creepy ones carved into the ergonomic shape of an ass for, you know, comfort.

Over the course of the three hours since she’d gotten the worst grilling of her life, two of the girls had been picked up. Their parents had sent chauffeurs and family limos for them. Ironically, Sara’s parents couldn’t be inconvenienced to even notify the help to get their daughter early. Anna might, might have gotten caught sniggering when she overheard that conversation. She’d received stern looks of disapproval from both the Dean and Assistant Dean. But the glares of hatred from Sara and her cronies? Priceless!

She fidgeted uncomfortably. There was something seriously wrong with her chair. From the corner of her awareness, she noticed that Sara and her two remaining cohorts were fidgeting also. They seemed to be experiencing the same discomfort that she was. The young cryomancer was almost of the opinion that it wasn’t possible to make a more uncomfortable chair even if it had been enchanted…

Wait a minute! Anna straightened in sudden suspicion. Everywhere else in this hoity-toity school is filled with state-of-the-art ergonomic bliss. But in the school’s office, the chairs where students had to sit were the epitome of gluteus abuse? Now that she thought it out, it was clear that this was a subtle form of punishment.

Her eyes narrowed and her expression turned flat. Of course. That was the kind of thing mister I’ve-got-a-magic-stick man over there would do. For the first time since she had been filed in here with the other fighters, Anna turned her ire on the administration. Then she sighed and forced herself to relax.

She’d done the crime and now she was doing the time. Things would only get worse if she lost the strict control she had to keep over her magic, and her ‘cool’ ended up being even the slightest bit noticeable by someone else. The only thing for it was to accept it and remain calm. Besides, it wasn’t all bad.

There was television. It had been on the twenty-four-hour news channel the whole time. But still…good and proper brain rot to zone out on and distract her from her desire to cause other people serious bodily harm. Anna leaned her head back against the wall behind her in resignation and returned her focus to the droning of the news anchor.

“In preparation for the expected arrow swarm intersection over Southern Lake Michigan, Chicago has reinforced its defensive grid while the recently emptied magic collectors have been set to the highest absorption capacity. The Governor of Illinois has activated the Magicorps division of the National Guard to aid in diverting this natural disaster. Experts say that the empty magic collectors will siphon off enough magical energy from the enchanted arrow swarms that the city defense grid combined with the efforts of aeromancers from the National Guard will be able to divert both swarms as they intersect.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“That’s right, Bob.” The second anchorperson added, butting in helpfully. Probably following a script written on some teleprompter. Now that they’d done the grave reporting, they would put a positive spin on the potential danger and follow the segment up with some light-hearted puff piece. Was she getting jaded already? It must be Kyle's fault. And she nodded in satisfaction as the commentator continued.

“Enchanted arrow swarms are volleys of enchanted arrows from ancient wars that are still flying and traveling the world today because they were made to draw on ambient magic to power their speed and flight enchantments. These swarms may have started as man-made phenomena but they have been around so long they are now basically considered a natural disaster. Which swarms are we watching today, Bob?”

Anna resisted the urge to snort. Everyone knew what a magic arrow swarm was. It was stupid that the news reiterated their definition every time one intersected near a large city. After all, nobody went over the definition of a hurricane every time Florida flooded.

“We’ve got the Trojan Six swarm, the swarm generated during the sixth Battle of Troy, and the Punic War swarm intersecting ten miles North of Chicago. It’s uncertain how their enchantments will interact as there are no historical records of these two swarms intersecting before. It’s possible that they will join together, forming a larger more powerful swarm. Or their enchantments may negatively react causing both swarms to self-destruct.”

“Don’t forget the third option, Bob.” The second anchorman added continuing the friendly but mildly concerned banter bit.

“What’s that George?” Bob was getting irritated with George. There was a bit of a bite in his tone. Anna was right there with Bob; George was an irritating a-hole. Just look at him, he was so polished and suave that he had to secretly be a serial killer.

“There’s the possibility that there will be no synergy or reaction between the enchantments and the swarms will pass through each other with nothing more than a few light collisions.” Bob rolled his eyes at the same time as Anna because, when in the entire history of the world had that actually happened?

“Whatever the case may be, stay tuned to find out.” Bob continued smoothly, busying his hands with a few prop documents on the desk before him. “We’ve got a countdown clock at the bottom of the screen there below the streaming updates.”

“Yes, Bob. Stay tuned to find out in just under four hours. But on a lighter note, a new article profiling Camina Wattkins, The Harbinger of Dawn has shown the world the lighter side of divine wrath as a homemaker and mother. The writer interviewed all of her children as well as her husband and painted a picture of life at home with a Holy Warrior. Your thoughts, Bob?”

“Well, George, I loved the article. Mrs., Wattkins is probably one of, if not, the most famous Warlock in modern history. I have to admit I’ve been a fan since high school and even then, she was already finding her way into our history books. I’m sure that everyone who has been following her meteoric career was thrilled to see this more personal side of her.”

Anna had stiffened slightly from her repose of negligent boredom when the segment started but she relaxed as she saw they were focusing on her mother, as they should be. Then that asshat, George, started talking and she stiffened right back up again.

“The profile of her youngest, Anna Wattkins, was particularly intriguing.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s everywhere.” She’d half risen out of her chair when the Assistant Dean looked up from typing industriously to glare at her in reprimand. The yardstick appeared in his hand and the teen slammed herself back down with her arms folded angrily. She went back to watching the discussion with far less equanimity as the school’s fluorescent lights flickered with a dangerous rising hum.

“I’m warning you, young lady.” Yardstick guy pointed at the lights and then back to Anna, brandishing his yardstick like it was a wand.

“It’s not me. I’ve got my powers locked down. It’s the AMD rising.” The hum in the lights continued rising in octaves and she glanced at it nervously. The ambient magic density of the air was rising far higher than it should in a city with magic collectors as big as New York’s. The offending news segment continued under the increasing noise.

“Everyone’s speculating on her potential. Perhaps we’ll be seeing another young Warlock enlisting in the Magicor – ” The television the lights, and every electronic device in the room blew out at once.

Two teenage girls shrieked as the cellphones in their pockets – which should have been powered off in their chic white leather backpacks – burst when the batteries overloaded. Anna, who had been expecting something like this, lifted her sturdy messenger bag over her head and used her textbooks to protect her head from falling glass. There was no explosion from her bag.

“Down!” Her reaction was instinctual, knee jerk really. “Down now!” The fact that she actively loathed the girls beside her didn’t matter. What did matter was that the school used backup batteries on all the important computers, the building was loaded with electronics, and clearly, the board hadn’t used the generous donations and the absurdly high tuition to retrofit the buildings with magical shielding.

She threw herself on the floor and two of the girls followed her. The third must have been wearing a watch, she was scream-crying and holding a bleeding wrist in her other hand. Anna pulled the girl down with the other two. Not bothering to see who was who, she summoned a barrier shield to protect the four of them until all the secondary explosions were over.