The Taming of Adam: Part 2: The Hunter's Sign

By Jason Hubbard

Four years after the events of Part 1, 21-year-old Adam Taylor has moved to a new city, Almin. Here he plans to make a new start of things by attending a new school, learn new magic spells, and make new friends. And although love is not on his mind, he ends up falling for Amy Graine, the beautiful daughter of the CFO of Entercor Contracting. They are of two different disciplines of magic--him being a black mage and her being a white mage--yet they overcome their differences and begin a whirlwind romance that softens the scrappy young man's heart. But Amy holds a secret that will test Adam's conscience, and so he will be forced to side with either his girlfriend or those who wish to bring down Entercor.

Meanwhile, one of Adam's school roommates, Ricky Grater, meets a mysterious man named Cameron Moss. Cameron is a fellow mage capable of powerful magic spells, and despite Cameron's impulsiveness and abrasive behavior, Ricky looks up to him as a friend and mentor. The two men go through fast times gambling at the local casino, picking up lovely women, and enhancing their magic abilities. Ricky believes this is the start of a long and fruitful friendship that will further his magic career and keep the good times going. But behind his warm smile and easygoing attitude, Cameron has a hidden agenda, one that will ensnare Ricky in a web of lies, murder, and forbidden magic.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483551913

Book preview

One

Light-blue eyes.

In his dreams, he sees her light-blue eyes within dense mist. They’re beautiful and feline, and they faintly glow with white light as if they were a source of power and sustenance. As they peer at him, he feels as though he’s being meticulously studied for strengths and weaknesses. It’s not an unpleasant feeling, for he wants those eyes to welcome him, to accept him, to wrap him up in a warm blanket of love for an hour or two.

But the eyes hold a hint of malice—subtle yet unmistakable. These eyes hinted at such anger and hatred that it was only a matter of time before they become uncontained. Why the woman felt this way was no mystery, for he had done something terrible to her. It was something that had been necessary and unforgivable, something he’d do again if he had to.

He had killed her.

And yet in his dreams he still craves her love, wants to hold her hand and whisper sweet nothings, wants to while the day away with her in his arms.

He’d be damned if he knew why, though. She had not been as she had seemed: a beautiful and strong young woman who had needed rescuing. He had killed her because she was something he could not love, a being that had done him a terrible wrong. Perhaps his feelings were manipulated by magic, but that was impossible. Magic was capable of many wondrous things: It can make trees grow instantly, cure infected wounds, and create matter from shadow. But one thing it cannot do is directly affect people’s emotions. Love potions and charm spells are the stuff of fairy tales, not of real-world magic. If a male mage wants the affections of a woman, the best he can do is buy flowers and a fancy dinner.

Yet how can it not be magic? He was hardly a hopeless romantic; he knows there is more to a woman than a pretty face. He believes he is strong enough to repel the advances of any woman he doesn’t like—especially this one who had once prompted him to do some terrible things.

Nonetheless, those eyes hold him captive in his dreams every time, and whenever he wakes up he can’t help but feel empty inside, as if his one chance for happiness had come and gone forever. He feels this way even at the end of the dream, when the eyes take on a dark look and the woman thrusts her face towards him, the mist parting to reveal a circular mouth edged with teeth sharp enough to sink into his skin like a drill in a two-by-four.

And he smiles at the sight, pleased that he will get to see Ellen one more time, even as she gives him a kiss as hot as the sun, resulting in his blood splashing on his skin and clothes …

He shuddered violently and picked his head up. He was groggy and had a sour taste in his mouth. The evening sky before him was a faint blue, the clouds the color of a dried-up violet. He was in a car on a freeway, a five-year-old Tunaro Eagle. Its gentle movement and comfy seat must have made him fall asleep.

Whoa, you all right?

Naomi was in the driver’s seat, glancing at him with concern.

Adam straightened himself, his face flushed from embarrassment. Y-yeah, I’m okay. Um, I didn’t say anything, did I?

Naomi made one of her bemused, sweet smiles she gave him often. No, should you have?

No, he said slyly. Fact was, he’s had people tell him lately that he often said strange things in his sleep—things he’d rather not have them hear. Are we almost there?

We’re pretty close.

Sorry I took a nap right in front of ya.

It’s okay, you’ve must have had a very busy day.

Adam huffed through his nose. Yeah, ‘busy.’ It was all just paperwork; that’s all they ever have me do.

Still, it’s better than breaking rocks.

I suppose.

Adam was under probation after pleading guilty for damaging city property and aggravated assault. It had been four months since the verdict, and since then the province of Ambrosia had often put him to work for the DMV. Each workday he filled out and stamped hundreds of forms. It was dreadfully dull work, and the monotony of it made him feel like a mindless zombie come quitting time.

So, do you think you’re ready for this? Naomi asked.

Hmm, yeah … as ready as I’ll ever be.

She patted his hand, which miraculously roused a smile from him. The truth was that he was extremely nervous. He’d been seeing Naomi for quite some time, and he was only now going to meet her parents.

Adam Taylor was a black mage, a practitioner of black magic. His expertise was in manipulating shadows to have them put to work for him.

Naomi Tsung was a white mage. Her white magic abilities were able to heal wounds and manipulate rays of light. Most black mages would rather give up their dominant hands than date a white mage, yet Adam managed to do it without too much drama. Naomi was a very nice and sweet girl, kind and nonjudgmental—the kind of personality he needed at this point in his life.

Still, the thought of seeing her parents filled him with dread. He’d heard many things about them, and he had a feeling their first meeting would not go well. And if that should happen, then Naomi …

I hear Mother has garlic chicken in the oven, she said. I hope that’s all right with you.

I’ll eat anything to make a good impression, Naomi, Adam said. It was a boldfaced lie (he was an extremely picky eater), but it was well meant. I’m sure everything will turn out great.

They arrived at the Tsung residence minutes later. The house was of a simple Western U.A. design, but the furniture inside was all very exotic. The Tsung family had its ancestry rooted in Trunia, and its members held many styles and traditions from that nation. The walls held large mirrors with brass frames and intricately-designed rugs with Trunese characters. Red paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, and the sitting room had chairs of silk that stood on brass legs.

Adam removed his shoes in the foyer as Naomi had instructed him to do, and he was immediately received by Mrs. Tsung. She was a frail woman with sunken cheeks, a thin mouth, and skin as wrinkled as an old rag. She wasn’t shy in touching Adam in every way that wasn’t rude: holding his hands, brushing his shoulders, patting his cheeks. He normally didn’t suffer being touched thusly, but for Naomi’s sake he kept a pleasant demeanor. Naomi talked her in Trunese, a flittering language he couldn’t hope to keep up with even if he knew some words. Hearing them speak was fascinating to him, and he wondered what in the world they could be talking about.

Naomi’s father appeared to be just as Adam feared he would: a strict and taciturn asshole whose cold eyes hinted at a calculating mind. He was a short and fit man whose thick cords of muscle were apparent even under his striped dress shirt. His hair was neatly combed back without even a single strand out of place, and his thin mustache was perfectly symmetrical.

According to Naomi, he was a tough disciplinarian who had planned out his children’s future from birth to early adulthood, and he had expected his plans to be followed to a T. His son had unfortunately strayed from his father’s will, getting himself involved in a drug ring which got him five years in prison. As a result, Mr. Tsung had been harder on Naomi, continually reminding her to do as he said or else he’d disinherit her as he had her brother.

The moment Mr. Tsung and Adam bowed to each other in greeting, Adam sensed an elephant in the room: an issue on both their minds that might prove to be too big to ignore. Adam crossed his fingers and hoped the elephant would stay silent—at least for tonight.

The Tsung’s dinner table was only inches from the floor, with purple cushions serving as seats. Dinner consisted of garlic chicken, wild rice with shrimp, bits of breaded fish, broccoli, and hot tea.

This all looks very good, Mrs. Tsung, Adam said as Mrs. Tsung filled and passed out everyone’s plates. Though I usually have orange juice with chicken; for some reason, they go pretty good together.

Orange juice is for breakfast only, Mr. Tsung said. It is not made for dinner.

Adam wanted to say he could have orange juice any damn time of the day he wanted, but for Naomi’s sake he held his tongue.

The chicken had been cut up prior to being cooked, for it was meant to be eaten with chopsticks. Naomi had taught Adam how to use them, and he’d grown adept at using them. They required a little skill to use, but at least one didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure them out.

Mr. Tsung had eaten only a mouthful of rice before he popped the big question: So, Naomi tells me you’re a black mage. Is it true?

Oh, hell, here we go, Adam thought. Naomi had informed him her father didn’t think well of black mages. Yes I am, at your service. If you have rodents you want exterminated, I’m your man.

Good, that’s good, Mr. Tsung said smugly. Because exterminating rodents is all black mages are good for.

Mrs. Tsung uttered some angry words at him in Trunese. He pretended not to hear.

Father, Adam uses his magic for many good things, Naomi said. He can clean up an entire house in a breeze, protect people from falls, and keep food from going bad without having to refrigerate it.

And he can hurt people, Mr. Tsung said bluntly, just as he did at Cooper University.

The room fell silent as the residing elephant tooted triumphantly through its trunk.

He’s … he’s very sorry for that, Naomi said in a small voice. Aren’t you, Adam?

Yeah, of course. I just … well, I got scared is all.

"You got scared?" Mr. Tsung asked incredulously. From what I heard, you attacked a girl and then ran. Who’s to say you won’t attack my daughter next?

It wasn’t really an ‘attack’ … I mean …

What would you call it, then?

Kohira, Mrs. Tsung snapped at her husband. That is all in the past. We should let it go, okay? At least save it for another day. Please, hun, eat some dinner.

Adam took a few bites of chicken, which was quite good. The night’s cheery conversation made his brain feel as though ants were crawling all over it, but at least the food helped to settle his nerves.

Forgive me, Mr. Tsung said, making it sound like an order from a military C.O. I just want my daughter to wed someone of character.

Oh, people say I’m a character, all right, Adam said, trying to sound pleasant yet failed to do so.

Is that why you claimed to be the black mage in Runuck and later took the claim back?

Adam sighed as the elephant tooted again.

There was a long story behind Mr. Tsung’s words. After Adam’s court settlement, he moved to Runuck, a small town in Elton province. His lawyer had compelled him to accept a job there as a black mage. He had lived alone and went to work nearly every day at a research complex, where he used magic in numerous science experiments.

Little did he know that he would be privy to an experiment that would invite a giant monster to the face of Renin. The monster had slithered to the small town, where it destroyed homes and ate many people like chicken wings. Through determination, cunning, and a little help, Adam was able to kill the monster before it could escape and wreak carnage elsewhere.

The monster had a name: Ellen. It was she who inhabited his recent nightmares.

No one saw him do it, save a man who assisted in killing the thing. Adam was sure the man had stayed silent about his involvement, so his heroic efforts could have been kept under wraps. However, a government spy satellite caught images of the newly-dead monster with two figures nearby. The news media, with its usual snap judgment, surmised that the two figures were the ones who had killed the monster.

Adam had wanted nothing more to do with the incident. Seeing the monster eat and kill human lives had left deep emotional scars, making him feel like he’d just gone through a war zone. Nonetheless, he was partly responsible for bringing the monster into the world, so it was up to him to take the blame for everything that happened. It was what any honorable person would have done.

"I claimed to be one of the people in the satellite photos because I was one of them," Adam said.

You still insist on it? Mr. Tsung asked, scowling. Here in my house, even after you’ve been disgraced?

Father, please, Naomi pleaded. That’s all in the past.

Mr. Tsung said something to her in Trunese. Adam didn’t much care what he said, but it got Naomi plenty worried. What is it? he asked.

Naomi shook her head. Oh, he said, ‘You yourself aren’t leaving it in the past.’ She turned to Mr. Tsung. Really, Father, it’s no big deal. And I … I believe him.

Mr. Tsung looked at her a moment. Whether he was stunned or boiling in rage, Adam couldn’t tell. Mr. Tsung then said, "What’s the matter with you, hmm? I didn’t raise you to be so gullible."

Adam wanted to say that gullible was believing anything anyone said on television, but for Naomi’s sake he held his tongue.

They ate in silence awhile. Adam tried to shake off the strain he was feeling, but it clung to him like superglue. The ticking from a wall clock sounded to him like a time bomb about to go off.

I hate to bring it up, but I can’t help wondering, Mrs. Tsung said. "Why did you take back your claim, Adam?"

Adam thought about it, recalling some memories. Well, I … He glanced at Mr. Tsung, who was eyeing him as a wolf would a hare. "I really was one of the mages who smoked that monster. I told anyone who doubted me that I was definitely in Runuck at the time. But I took back my claim because … well, because I really didn’t want the attention. And besides, there were all those posers stealing my spotlight."

Soon after the news broke out about the monster’s existence and death, Adam called some of the major news networks and told them he was the black figure in the satellite photos. Since he was already a celebrity from his nationally publicized rampage, the media eagerly picked up his claim. Over the next month, he was swarmed by reporters and journalists begging for comments and interviews. Some of them were skeptical and asked cynical questions; others were trusting and asked sincere and sometimes outrageous questions. They followed him wherever he went; there were even times when he couldn’t go out to check his mail without being pestered by guys with badges on their coats. He felt caught up in a whirlwind of attention that smothered him nearly to his breaking point. He honestly had a grudging respect for news people, for they often sought after the truth in situations, but didn’t they have better things to do than jam microphones into his face?

But soon their attention was diverted elsewhere. Other men rose to take credit for slaying the monster. They were all black mages, though they came from various paths of life. Some were rednecks who couldn’t hold a civilized conversation for even a minute; others were respectable gentlemen whose smarminess was oftentimes insufferable. They told different stories of where the monster came from and how they ultimately stopped it with their magic abilities. Some of them went on to sign book and movie deals, reaping huge profits for their blatant lies.

Adam was appalled by the false claimants, but he did admit to himself that it was nice to be relieved of all the attention. Reporters were leaving his hometown of Thainsburgh in pursuit of the other claimants, who usually had prettier faces than him and dwelled in big-city high rises. Even some of the nation’s military inquisitors were leaving him be and bringing their tough questions to the pathetic posers.

I figured if they wanted to take responsibility for it so bad, I might as well let them, he said. They can have all the fame and headaches I never really wanted. I’m happy right here in Thainsburgh. Eventually my probation will end, and I’ll make a new start of things.

What will you do, Adam honey? Mrs. Tsung asked.

He shrugged. I haven’t decided yet.

Well, we’ll be behind you all the way, won’t we, dear?

Naomi smiled and nodded. Mr. Tsung, however, kept his usual unreadable expression, eating his chicken and fish as a cow chewed cud.

After a time, once Adam and the women established a friendly rapport, the man of the house pounded a fist on the table and uttered, No.

The others looked at him as they would a noisy car. No what, dear? asked an exasperated Mrs. Tsung.

When I look at you, Adam Taylor, all I see is an arrogant black mage. You make pitiful excuses for all your mistakes; you can never admit you’re wrong. And look how long your hair is; you look like a girl!

Adam wanted to say that Mr. Tsung’s own arrogance was large enough to shove down his throat, but for Naomi’s sake …

Oh, the hell with it.

You know, I really don’t like your attitude, he said. You sized me up the moment I stepped through the door, and you believe whatever you want to believe about me. I just can’t win because you can’t give me a break. And I can wear my hair as long as I want!

Naomi laid a hand on Adam’s forearm. Please, Adam, this isn’t the time for this.

You want to marry this man? Mr. Tsung said, his eyes filled with disgust. This man who disrespects me in my own house?

Naomi was caught off guard, at a loss for words. Well, I …

Whoever said we were getting married? Adam said with peering eyes.

What do you mean? Mr. Tsung asked. She wants to marry you; that’s why she brought you here.

Adam shrugged and smirked. I’m just saying you’re jumping the gun there, pal.

All you black mages—you’re arrogant and ridiculous to no end.

Father! Naomi cried.

Oh, I’m ‘ridiculous’ now, am I? Adam asked.

Please, enough! Mrs. Tsung cried.

What followed was a dissonant chorus of human voices, each one making a different nature of argument. When it was over, Mr. Tsung stubbornly said, Ever since my family moved to the Union of Altoria, there has never been a black mage in it! Black magic is useless and vile. If you had had any sense, you would have meditated on a red phosphorescent stone.

Adam raised an eyebrow. Phosphorescent stones were magical stones that people meditated with to gain magic abilities. If a five-year-old meditated with a stone at least an hour a day, three days a week, he or she could do first-level magic by the age of seven. There were three types of phosphorescent stones, hence three types of magic: red, black, and white.

Why would I want to do that? Adam asked.

Red magic is the power of nature, and nature holds power over all of Renin. And a red mage can do some black and white spells as well. Only a fool cannot see the advantage red magic has over the others.

Adam rolled his eyes. Hate to burst your bubble, but I’ve no regrets. Black magic has its uses, too.

Oh? Like what?

A black mage can travel through the shadow world.

"The shadow world?" Mr. Tsung laughed—an unnatural sound coming from him. What do I care about the shadow world? No one can live there. And besides, only a high-level black mage can enter it. A fifteen-year-old like you could never do that.

I’m actually eighteen. And you’re right, but at least a red mage could never even hope to enter the shadow world.

Mr. Tsung waved his hand as if shooing away houseflies. Very well, there’s no use arguing. You will never marry my daughter, I forbid it.

Father … Naomi looked at him in disappointment, her shoulders drooping. But within her voice, Adam detected a hint of acceptance. Her previous spunk and defiance were already gone; she knew this night was going to end poorly.

You will never wear this man’s ring, Naomi, Mr. Tsung said. He will not be the first black mage in our family.

Naomi cast her eyes down, seemingly on the verge of tears.

Mr. Taylor, as soon as you finish your dinner, leave my house.

Mrs. Tsung angrily said something in Trunese. Mr. Tsung answered this time, though he didn’t seem angry himself.

Adam ate some more chicken, then stood up. I can see when things are hopeless. I think I’ll be on my way.

After a quick round of farewells, Naomi escorted Adam to the front porch. I’m so sorry, Adam. I was hoping Father would—

A tear strolled down her cheek. Adam frowned and gave her a brief hug. Don’t worry, don’t worry now. I suppose this was meant to be.

What … what do mean, ‘it was meant to be?’

You’re a nice girl, Naomi, and I’m … I’m not really so nice. You’re a white mage working in a free clinic; I’m an idiot black mage out on probation. We’re a match made in Hell.

Oh, Adam, you really are an idiot if you believe that. Two people don’t have to be perfect to be in love. They just have to agree on how to care for each other, and for their children.

Children. Adam hadn’t thought seriously about having children for a long time, and the idea felt a little uncomfortable. Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. But still, I know you have a lot of respect for your father, and I don’t want to come between you and him.

He’ll accept you! Just give him time; he’ll see things our way.

No, he won’t. I can see that already. He’ll accept me only if I suddenly become a red mage, and that’s impossible. He took her hand and rubbed it with his thumb. Sorry, Naomi, but this is it. I really blew it in there.

No, you didn’t, Father’s just—

You don’t want me. Find someone with a better head on his shoulders. That’s the kind of man you deserve.

Naomi looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and agitation, appearing wraithlike in the yellow porch light. He was afraid she’d slap him, try to knock some sense into him. Fortunately, she didn’t. Perhaps she saw that he did have sense, that he was speaking lucidly. Perhaps she had her own doubts about their relationship, and she could see the problems they’d have down the road. Plus, she viewed her father as a strong man whom she owed a lot of things to, and she wanted to obey and honor him no matter what her heart told her.

O-okay, Adam. You’re right, I guess. It’s just … when I first met you, you seemed so lost and angry. You’ve improved since then, and I wanted to see you get even better.

Adam flushed and gave a shrug. Well, we sure had some fun, didn’t we? I won’t ever forget it.

I won’t either. So now, let me give you a ride home.

Adam smiled mischievously. Oh, no, that’s all right. I’ll manage.

Are you sure? You’re not thinking of hitchhiking?

Adam went down the front steps. No, it’s not that. I’m a black mage, remember?

And with that, his body lowered itself into the ground, passing through it as if it was thin air. Naomi could barely see what he did in the dark, so she must have thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. She hurried to where he was, only to find nothing there.

He had descended into the shadow world, a place ruled by darkness where only a scant amount of light could be found. It was in another plane of existence lurking just beneath the surface of Renin, and any shadow could be used as an entryway (though curiously, he couldn’t use his own shadow due to a technicality; it seemed that his shadow had to follow him in to the shadow world, never left behind).

From his location, Adam peeped out into the real world to glimpse at Naomi. She turned her head, her wide eyes probing the darkness. She seemed very perplexed, but perhaps she already guessed what had happened. She had seen him descend into the shadow world once before; that time, he had help doing it and had needed to say a long chant. Things were different now; he could enter the shadow world whenever he pleased without any help, and he didn’t even need to say a chant. All he had to do was concentrate, for his magic level was higher than what anyone suspected.

It was yet another part of Ellen’s legacy, and perhaps the only good part of it.

He felt a little bad for not telling Naomi, for she had been his girlfriend for a good four months. But it wasn’t as if she was the only one left out; he hadn’t told anyone close to him about how high his magic level was. It wasn’t because of humility; it was because mages throughout Renin were often thought of as troublemakers even if one didn’t deserve the reputation. Most people were non-mages, having never meditated on a phosphorescent stone long enough. Hence, the minute Adam started bragging about how he could enter the shadow world, people would start accusing him of peeping at them in their dressing rooms (which was what he really did … rarely).

He raced through the shadow world, traveling several miles in just a few minutes. Once he ended up in his shabby apartment, he stepped into it through a shadow of a coffee table and lay on his couch.

Looking up at his ceiling in the dark living room, he thought a little about Naomi. He honestly didn’t know how he should feel about her—happy or sad. She had been a nice girl, and he had liked that about her. Yet he could never quite get himself emotionally attached to her; he had always just viewed her from a distance, living as her shadow as a silent spectator. And as much as she liked him, she had never seemed to enjoy him, only putting up with his naughty jokes and sarcastic remarks.

They had had a good four months, having fun by playing board games, watching movies, and hanging out with friends. But towards the end, their relationship had been slowing down. Anyone could see it. It was time they started seeing other people.

And besides, now he didn’t have to put up with her dumbass father anymore. If he should father Mr. Tsung’s grandchild, Mr. Tsung would surely be as biased towards it as he was towards Adam.

It’d be just as bad as me and my old man, he thought. At least my kid wouldn’t have to live with that old coot all the time. But I know what it’s like to have an elder not understand you, to do anything to win their approval only to not get it. Sorry, Naomi, you can’t choose your father, but at least you can choose your fiancé. Maybe your dad can find someone good for you—someone who’s not the moody bastard I am.

Two

He hated group projects. He had always hated them, but he was at least now putting up with them. He supposed it was a sign of his burgeoning maturity, but he couldn’t be sure.

It was something he had to bear with, for Professor Mitchkirk loved putting his students in group projects. He was a very extroverted man himself who liked to talk about anything under the sun. Whether it was anthropology, politics, his kids, his wife, or dirty stories about his younger years, he could talk for hours upon end (or until your ears fell off from exhaustion).

His course was Yantras 101. A yantra was a circle that a mage used for many difficult spells. Instead of having a number of mages concentrate on spells for a long time, a single mage could put expendable magic in a yantra and have the yantra do all the hard work. They were the equivalent of automobile engines, using magic as both a fuel and an instrument.

The tricky thing with yantras was that they had to be made almost perfectly or else they wouldn’t work. A basic yantra was started by drawing a circle, and then another circle just within, plus two triangles. This yantra was called an Apollean Star, usually used in cooking. Once activated, you could put in ingredients such as flour, eggs, and butter, and then pull out a simple sponge cake.

For more complex spells, more elaborate yantras had to be made. This was where geometry and trigonometry fit in, for these yantras required certain triangles and other figures for them to operate. A mage could use a Hellene’s Hexagon to make certain metallic alloys, and a Red-Tipped Dodecahedron could turn seedlings into quality lumber. Just throw in the ingredients, and out came the finished product.

It was a subject Adam was very interested in. Yantras had all sorts of applications, and if he was serious about being a professional mage, he needed to learn how to make and use them. It was pretty hard, though, since he had to listen to Professor Mitchkirk talk and talk and talk. Granted, he was a good orator, full of energy and clever enough to arouse interest in any subject. But people could have too much of a good thing, and as Professor Michkirk kept blabbing away about interesting stuff, Adam grew more frustrated. Every day in class he could hardly wait for the projects to kick in, to get his hands dirty. He could hear about how to do things well enough, but he couldn’t really learn them until he actually did them.

The project for that day was to create a Judo’s Triangle and use it to transport rocks from the nearby mountains to the classroom. It was a simple yantra, but it had to be made carefully. It included an isosceles triangle laid within two circles, plus two small Trunese characters on either side called onis.

Adam was in a decent group today. It consisted of Victor Bradley, a black mage from Guinea; Jamie Fisch, a red mage from sunny New Delgado; and Justin Timblin, a red mage from Lon. Victor and Jamie were okay by him, but Justin was such a bossy bastard, he could quickly get on his nerves. Justin was always quick to point out other’s mistakes right when they made them; he’d then try to kick them out and do the task himself. When Victor had trouble making two sixty-five degree angles for the triangle, Justin pushed him aside and started on the angles himself.

They were making the yantra on a horizontal blackboard with red chalk. As Justin calculated his angles, Adam took a piece of chalk and made a dot where it wasn’t supposed to be.

What are you doing, Adam!? Justin cried. That’ll mess everything up!

Then let Victor do the angles, Adam said.

Justin sighed. Didn’t you see how he was doing them? All totally wrong.

And he’s not going to learn how until he does them.

So let him do them on his own time; this project’s grade applies to all four of us.

Fine, Adam said, then drew a line across the entire circle.

What’d you do that for! Justin cried. You just messed everything up!

Hey, I was just helping out, dude. See, I made one side of the triangle.

Justin bent himself over the yantra. No, no, just leave everything to me.

Okay, you wanna be our bitch-slave, go ahead.

Justin picked his head up and glared at him. "What was that?"

Professor Mitchkirk ambled over and said, You know, me and my brother and sister used to fight like this over cookies. I would claim one, then my brother would take it, then my sister would cry because she didn’t get all the best ones … we were real hellions. The only difference between us and you guys is that we were kids and you’re adults. Please find a way to work together, or I’m having the dean call your mommies.

Justin, who worshipped Professor Mitchkirk like he was a god, turned beet-red.

Don’t look at me, I’m not drawing anything, Jamie said. I’m just here memorizing the chant while you bitch-slaves do the drawing.

When all was said and done, they managed to withdraw a few rocks of limestone and mica and earned a B-minus. One group earned an A-plus, though, for they withdrew ten rocks that were wet from being in a riverbed.

Nephus help me, Justin said glumly, next time I’ll get my group an A-triple-plus, you’ll see!

Good, you go on and have you’re a-triple-plus, then. Hope it keeps you warm at night, brat.

It had been nearly two years since his breakup with Naomi. Near the end of his probationary period, he had called several companies with Thainsburgh asking if they were hiring black mages. He had very little luck, as most companies had all the workers they needed. A few thought it possible that they could use him, but there were no guarantees.

Adam supposed he’d have to live the life of a scrappy freelancer, doing random single-day jobs for whoever needed him. It was how most great mages started out, though with his high magic level, Adam felt he could do big jobs right away.

But then he received a phone call that made him change his plans. It was from the office of Jim Henley, the dean of the Almin Magic Academy. Henley’s secretary extended an exclusive invitation to join the academy, provided that Adam pass their competency exams.

Higher education was something Adam didn’t believe he could complete. He had tried it once before at the Cooper University for the Magical Sciences in Thainsburgh. He had been a different person back then, lonely and needlessly rude. His stay there had ended one day when he pushed a girl into a locker, just because she kept asking to buy a sculpture from him. That led to several standoffs with the girl’s boyfriend, security officers, policemen, and even the University’s dean who’d been a red mage. He figured after that little episode, no college dean in his right mind would want to accept him.

It turned out he was wrong, though the invitation sounded fishy. Being a naturally suspicious type, Adam didn’t believe Henley extended the invitation out of the goodness of his heart. He continually called the office until he got a hold of Henley himself. If Henley couldn’t give a good reason for the invitation, Adam would have blown him off.

I remember you being in the news over a year ago, Henley had said. You used your magic to get into a spot of trouble, and you gave mages everywhere a bad name. But I think you should get a second chance. You can clear your name and do some real good.

Adam had been hoping for a better reason than that. He didn’t buy that giving-mages-everywhere-a-bad-name business. But whatever. Pursuing higher education was a good idea for him. Sure, he had dropped out of high school, but he was beginning to realize the value of a good education.

As soon as he bid adieu to his probation officer, he flew to the city of Almin (which lied in Liota province) and visited the academy. The exams were tough, but he managed to pass them. As for the tuition, he was fully covered. His Grandfather Mark Taylor III had been the CEO of a pharmaceutical company; after his death, Adam had inherited a bank account with ten million dollars. In Adam’s mind, he was damn well set for life.

Henley greeted him as if they were old chums, which had immediately gotten on Adam’s nerves. The dean seemed to be using him to score brownie points from his peers for being a sympathetic goody-good, and Adam hated feeling like a puppet. Still, he put on a good face and chummed it up with Henley like a good little hypocrite, and he promised to let the dean know if there was anything he needed. Nonetheless, he refused to take a photo with Henley for the school paper, citing an old superstitious belief that photos stole bits of one’s soul.

His first year there was going well, though there were times when he wished he had brought with him all his favorite music CDs. He had intentionally left them with his parents, for he didn’t want to be distracted from his studies. He had blown his first year at Cooper, and he didn’t want to do the same thing at the Academy.

The campus was about as large as Cooper’s, though the buildings were more unique and pleasing to the eye. The Greenman Building was especially interesting. It looked like a few children’s building blocks put together, yet the variations of plaster and glass walls made for an appealing design. Adam couldn’t quite call it art, but he was somehow pleased to know that madmen could be successful architects.

He was learning a lot at the academy, and his parents supported him in whatever way they could (even his father, who had viewed Adam as a mere tax deduction when he was a kid). For his part, Adam sincerely hoped he could make a fresh start in life after his widely-publicized court hearing, his probation, and his horrifying experiences in Runuck. Upon graduating, he could easily begin a career in magic—perhaps as a government agent or a professional assassin (or maybe he watched too many damn action movies).

Three

He returned to his dorm room to find some of his new friends studying around the kitchen table, plus several boxes of fresh pizza.

Cool, my favorite food group, Adam said, helping himself to a slice.

If pizza is a food group, then I’m an old maid, Rebecca said.

You’re not an old maid, but you’re getting there. It’s only a matter of time.

Quiet, Adam, Rebecca snapped. It’s so rude to tease like that.

Rebecca, will you marry me? Herb asked.

Rebecca looked at him as she would a pimply toad. What!?

It’s the only way to stop you from being an old maid. So whaddaya say?

I say go to hell.

I’ll marry you, Herb, Ashley said in a quiet, sulky voice.

This made Herb look ready to jump out of his skin in excitement.

But only if you lose fifty pounds and buy me a diamond the size of my big toe, Ashley said with a wink.

I’ll do it! Herb cried, jumping in his seat. Ashley Bosset—it’s got a nice ring to it!

Ashley groaned and dropped her gaze back to her textbook.

Herb was one of Adam’s roommates. He was a red mage from Aratona province far to the east. He was only twenty-one, yet at six-foot-five he could look down at nearly everyone. He didn’t have the most attractive physique, yet he was undoubtedly a powerhouse who could knock the wind from a sumo wrestler. Upon first moving in, Adam had distanced himself from Herb, mistrustful because of his large size. But Herb quickly became a good friend, proving to be an understanding and mature young man. And he was fun, too, able to put a amusing twist on any story or comment. There weren’t many people who could make Adam open up about himself, but Herb was one of them.

The two girls lived together across the hall. Ashley Chamberlain was a white mage who was also from Aratona province. With her wheat-colored hair and big brown eyes, she was quite attractive. Unfortunately she was the arrogant, air-headed type whom Adam often associated with cheerleaders (and as it turned out, Ashley had been a cheerleader in high school, go figure). It was no secret that Herb had a crush on her, though she was as receptive to him as a brick wall.

Rebecca Cambry was also arrogant, as well as annoyingly prim. She was a huge bookworm who filled her head with tons of gobbledygook. When she wasn’t driving her car or sitting in class, she was usually found with her nose in a book. For hours upon end, she would sit each day in her room with her restless eyes glued to thousands of black-and-white letters. She claimed she read so much because, in being a red mage, she had hundreds of spells at her disposal, and she needed to learn them all. When socializing, she often corrected people’s speech and mentioned bits of useless trivia. She almost never talked about herself and never let anyone into her personal little world. Adam could sympathize, for he also found it hard to be open and make friends. That aside, he viewed her as a cold bitch with an icebox for a heart.

What’re you studying? Adam asked, looking over Herb’s shoulder.

Tangents and cotangents, Herb said.

Adam groaned and stepped away. I hate that stuff.

Me, too, but Professor Gamin’s working me like a dog, Herb said. I gotta wrap my head around this stuff ‘cause I’ll be using it all year.

You have to know your trigonometry, Adam, Rebecca said, her long black pigtails shaking. "How else are you going to