From the transcript of the interrogation of Florian Quinn by the Academy Prime: “No, sir, I’m certain what happened wasn’t premeditated. Of course, I can only speak for myself.”

  “Er, what about, Professor?”

  The typically sharp Professor Lawrence lived up to the first impression she gave him, looking evermore severe. She stared at him through her dark eyes, giving Florian the distinct impression that he needed to be careful of his every move while in the presence of this woman.

  “The Lockhands device and then your subsequent performance in the entrance trial.”

  Professor Lawrence drilled straight at the point without elaboration and so Florian sat quietly, his only move to adjust his position in the chair ever so slightly.

  “I’ve been told this group of initiates are rather strong. Stronger than most years, strongest in a generation in aggregate,” Lawrence said, ending the stretching silence.

  Florian had no frame of reference for that comment so all he said was “Yes, Professor.” Of course, he knew of the legends of the Death Dealers, of Muriella Oneshot who defeated an entire flank of the Rotspawn army with one curse, of Halifax Five Lives whose strength in the magic was so strong he lived to nearly three hundred years old, of Ryder the Ox who split the barrier between Earth and the realm of Rot and of others. He took the history of his affinity seriously.

  “I’m told you drained the life from the entire tree.”

  He had. But wasn’t that the point of the trial? They told him to do it? Certainly, he couldn’t be in trouble for doing what he was told. What was the woman playing at? Florian wished she’d just get to the point. “Er, yes, Professor.”

  Lawrence somehow narrowed her gaze and became more serious. Her eyes looked like they could pound a nail through stone they’d turned so hard. “The entire tree? From leaf to root? You swear it?”

  “Yes, Professor, I swear it.”

  “Stand up,” Professor Lawrence ordered, with no further discussion. “Move that chair.”

  Florian did as instructed, moving the heavy chair to the side of the room. After he cleared a space around him, Professor Lawrence stood up. She stood a head shorter than Florian but taller than most women, still.

  She advanced toward him, expression unchanging but the way she walked reminded Florian of a lion stalking an unsuspecting gazelle.

  Professor Bettina Lawrence cared nothing of personal space. She placed a hand on Florian’s chest and Florian fought the urge to recoil from the intimidating woman.

  “Are you fearful?” Lawrence murmured, dragging her hand to his shoulder slowly, pressing on the smooth fabric of his clothing to the muscle beneath then around his back…lower…then slowly around again to his stomach. She lingered. Florian stood there, trying not to wilt under the older woman's surprisingly affectionate touch.

  She moved so close to him he could smell the floral notes of her hair shampoo. Another centimeter and her breasts would be pressed against him.

  “We’ll have private lessons here, once a week.”

  The tone of her voice told Florian her instruction could only be followed. Professor Lawrence didn’t make requests.

  Once she’d finished circling Florian, hand never leaving his body, she stood in front of him. She placed her hands, cold hands, on his warm cheeks. “Yes, you will be great. I will make it so.”

  Her hands dropped back to his chest, then his stomach. Any lower and her hands would be directly on his waistband. She took a deep inhalation. Holding his scent in her nostrils for an extended beat, Professor Lawrence released the air through her mouth.

  “You may leave.”

  Florian didn’t need to be told twice. Summoning all the dignity he could, he left her office very much worse for wear. The thought of private lessons with that woman deeply unsettled him. He’d have to find a way to bring along Lane or Thad or both.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He navigated his way back to the library - his sense of direction had always been excellent - arriving back in perfect time to witness an argument between Lane and two other students Florian didn’t recognize.

  “Which one of you twats did it?” Lane raged, Thad barely holding him back, gripping his shirt with knuckles that had turned white from exertion. It took Florian a moment to see the blood trickling from the back of Thad’s head. Not a lot of blood, no, but whatever happened while Florian and the Professor met both broke Thad’s skin and angered Lane.

  Florian stepped in between the group with his hands raised. “What’s the problem?”

  Thad spoke first. “It’s fine. One of their elbows connected with my head. I’m sure it was an accident. Right guys?”

  Florian looked toward the other two who answered immediately. “Yeah, that’s right. I’d leave it alone if I were you, Princess. Next time remember which table you’re sitting at,” one of the other men sneered, brushing a strip of curly black hair from his face. His attire told Florian his affinity. Storm blue. “Your boy had it coming and if this one gets any closer I’ll show him what he’s got coming to him,” he pointed at Lane.

  That only succeeded in eliciting another hiss from Lane. Thad forcibly stepped in front of the stockier man. “I’m fine, Lane, seriously. Let’s just go.”

  “Yeah, get out of here sweetheart,” the other man teased and blew Lane a kiss. “Bye, bye. Give your sister a tender kiss for me, she’s a bit sore after last night. Not as sore as your mum but-,”

  Crack.

  Lane finally broke Thad’s hold and the subsequent cracking sound came from his fist meeting the jaw of the curly haired man who immediately crumpled. Heart pounding, Florian pushed the table to the side and pushed the other guy’s friend away from the fight before he could jump onto the battle. For the second time in thirty minutes, Florian had an unwanted touch on his shirt, the blue eyed Storm Sorcerer grabbing hold of him, holding him in place. Neither man threw punches, but neither let go. Thad stood still, a dumbstruck look on his face.

  Fighting. In a library. Over a new favourite table. To Thad, it was incomprehensible.

  An elderly woman who must have been the librarian rushed over, screeching, brandishing a rolled up collection of parchment but before she could intervene in the fight Thad regained his senses and deftly stepped in front of her, protecting her from an errant limb. What could be going through her mind? Breaking up a fight with a roll of paper? To her credit the hook-nosed librarian gave no indication that she felt intimidated.

  “Enough!” A commanding voice broke in, several notches louder than appropriate for a library. He waved his scepter and the boys separated by magic, as though a force field engulfed each individually and pulled them apart.

  Without question Lane appeared to get the better of the altercation, the only evidence he’d even been in a fight came in the form of ruffled clothing and a very slight bruise around his eye.

  Florian knew this Professor, with his broad smile and perfectly coiffed hair. In his interview, Professor Hutton gave an air of joviality. Not now.

  “Lane Jones! Manny Savona! Explain yourselves!”

  Together they started babbling, each vying to overtake the other in both volume and speed.

  Manny, in stark contrast to Lane, looked like he’d been in a fight. Blood spilled from his mouth and if Florian squinted, he felt confident he’d be able to determine that Manny no longer had all his teeth.

  Professor Hutton closed his eyes and mumbled something to himself that sounded an awful lot like “I don’t know what I expected.” After a minute of incoherent babbling, Hutton waved his scepter again and the boys went quiet. He smiled wide and nodded toward Thad who looked on the verge of a panic attack. Florian and the other boy hurriedly disengaged.

  “Boys,” Professor Hutton said in a firm, confident voice. “I love the passion. The fire!” The librarian’s mouth opened - no doubt to argue the validity of fire and passion when it came in the form of a fight in a library - but she thought better and snapped it shut.

  Hutton continued. “I do. But, there is a time and a place. It’s easier to tame an aggressive dog than to force a pussycat to grow fangs. You better not lose that instinct, but you’ll learn to channel it more productively. Detention, all of you. Ruthann will arrange it.” Hutton paused before adding “eventful second day, boys. Savona, I’d suggest a trip to the nurse’s office if you want your teeth back.”

  The second Sorcerer glared back and forth from Lane to Florian, ignoring Thad. Then, without blinking, he turned and left.

  Thad’s eyes widened and he motioned to protest his innocence but Hutton silenced him with a sharp look. “All of you means all of you.” Thad downcast his eyes but accepted the Professor’s word as law. Hutton released his hold on Manny and waited until the Storm Sorcerers exited the library entirely before releasing the hold on Lane who looked murderous.

  Hutton nodded and left, the librarian falling into line behind him.

  “Detention, my second day,” Thad moaned. “I’ve never been in trouble of any kind my entire life. One day here and I’ve already got a reputation.”

  Despite his fight, Lane offered Thad a tight smile. “Chicks dig a bad boy, Thad, don’t forget about that.”

  Thad looked thoughtful for a moment, then touched the back of his head where the blood had since stopped trickling. “Do you think I’ll have a scar? I once read that chicks dig scars.”

  Florian fought to keep his face neutral.

  Lane just clapped Thad on the back.

  Sometimes, it takes a fight to become best friends.