Breaks in Reality

By Alex Siegel

BREAKS IN REALITY is the third book in a series which begins with Seams in Reality.

Phillip is a young boy with the mind of an old master sorcerer. He plans to take control of every sorcerer in the United States. He recently devised a spell which gives him the power to accomplish this daunting goal. Andrew and Charley, two apprentice sorcerers, must stop Phillip. Andrew is still in his first year of training, but his unique talents make him the best man for the deadly mission. His girlfriend, Charley, has extraordinary abilities of her own. Their instructor, Tonya, and a Special Forces operator named Tungsten must guide the apprentices to victory.

Like Phillip, Andrew has also discovered a new spell. The finding might change the lives of all sorcerers, but the knowledge is forbidden, and Andrew must investigate in secret. He even lies to the people he loves to hide his research, but reckless curiosity compels him to carry on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alex Siegel
• Release date: Sep 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311191199

Alex Siegel

Alex Siegel grew up a math and computer geek. At the age of twenty-five, he received a Ph.D. in Computer Science from Cornell. He continues to make a good living as a software developer in Chicago. In his late twenties, he took up creative writing as a serious pastime with the intention of eventually making it his career. This goal has been elusive, but failure is not an option. In 2001, his wife gave birth to triplet boys. People often ask him how he still finds time to write. In 2009, he began the Gray Spear Society series, and he hopes it will be his key to literary fame.

Book preview

Chapter One

How was your omelet, Phillip? Mrs. Reisman said.

It was delicious. Phillip patted his small, round belly. I couldn't eat another bite.

The lady of the house smiled. She was an attractive woman in her late forties. She had blonde hair and remarkably smooth skin, although some of the smoothness was from expertly applied makeup. A slim, taut body was also appropriate for the trophy wife of one of the richest men in Toronto.

Mrs. Reisman hadn't cooked the omelet, of course. She was merely the waitress. A professional chef had prepared a complete breakfast for Phillip and his two henchmen, Icepick and Skater. The meal included French toast, a fruit parfait, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. Mrs. Reisman and her chef were standing by in case something else was required.

Everybody in the room was under Phillip's control. He held their minds with an unbreakable grip of sorcery. They would do anything he asked no matter how dangerous rather than face an army of imaginary terrors created by Phillip. His victims were stuck in an endless waking nightmare, but it was the only way to guarantee obedience.

That level of unquestioning compliance was necessary for his survival. The Bureau of Physical Investigation was searching for Phillip and might kill him if they caught him. Andrew Kenworthy, a youthful war mage, was the Bureau's point man. He was still just an apprentice, but extraordinary talent made him one of the most dangerous sorcerers around.

Phillip took one last sip of juice, patted his mouth with a napkin, and stood up.

I'll be in my study for a few hours, he said. Make sure I'm not disturbed.

Yes, sir, Icepick and Skater replied in unison.

They were professional assassins and would kill anybody who tried to violate that order.

Phillip went upstairs. The enormous house had seven bedrooms, more than enough for a family of four, a live-in housekeeper, and a nanny. The arrival of Phillip and his men had forced the housekeeper and nanny to share a room, but even with three extra residents, the home didn't feel crowded.

Phillip arrived at his study. The door was made of steel plate and set in a sturdy frame. It was locked, but there wasn't a keyhole or keypad. A normal person would have no idea how to unlock it.

Phillip put his hand on the doorknob. He had three portable seams under his clothes including the infamous Russian Eye. They provided the energy he needed to perform sorcery. He settled into a deep, meditative state and expanded his awareness. Using his inner sight, he stared into the locking mechanism of the door as if he had X-ray vision. The bolt was held in place with permanent magnets. He temporarily reversed the magnetic field lines, causing the bolt to slide back. He opened the door and entered his study.

For security reasons, Phillip had chosen an interior, windowless storage room for his sanctuary. Handsome oak bookshelves lined the walls, and they were packed with notebooks, binders, audio recordings, videos, and loose papers. The documents contained the forbidden, illegal secrets of sorcery. He had stolen all the material from the Vault.

Technically, Blake had performed the theft, but he had died months ago. His identity lived on in Phillip's body though, and Phillip felt justified in claiming credit. Certainly, nobody would argue with him. He had a nine year-old body but the mind of an old man who never tolerated disrespect.

He went to a desk with a glass top and sat on a comfortable mesh chair. A notebook on the desk contained the words of a brilliant sorcerer written eighty years ago. The work was so remarkable, Phillip was on his third reading. As he completed each page, he felt a little smarter.

He read, "'Ordinary mind-control is based on a lie. You deceive the subject into believing he is trapped in a horrifying situation, and the only escape is total, unconditional obedience. The victim serves his master out of terror. This type of spell is inherently limited. Fear is not the same thing as loyalty. A slave is not an ally or an advocate.

"'Using a compelling truth as the basis of a control spell is far more effective. The truth forms a self-reinforcing loop in the subject's mind. His entire world-view shifts in response. He literally becomes a different person. It helps to have a powerful image as the focus. Religious figures rely on this principle, and even without the aid of sorcery, they find great success.

'If the vision is sufficiently robust, it can jump telepathically from sorcerer to sorcerer. Human beings naturally want to share their beliefs with others. They can't help themselves, particularly when the knowledge is profoundly important. Sorcerers instinctively make psychic contact when in the presence of a seam, allowing a vision to spread in the blink of an eye. This is known as infectious or contagious sorcery. It is a most dangerous form, but if done right, the results can justify any risk....'

Phillip leaned back in his comfortable chair, his mind buzzing with possibilities. Infectious sorcery would allow him to bring his grand vision to fruition. He would unite all sorcerers under his banner, including Andrew. Phillip would overthrow the BPI and any other government agency that tried to stand in his way. Eventually, he would rule the world.

The tricky part was coming up with the right truth. It had to be simple and easily transmissible, but at the same time, the vision had to serve his purposes.

He needed to perform experiments under controlled conditions until he perfected the spell. For those experiments, he needed sorcerers as test subjects. Even a small flaw could prevent the infection from spreading properly. With so much at stake, including his own life, he couldn't afford any missteps.

Phillip narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly where he could get his hands on a whole group of sorcerers at once.

* * *

Andrew closed the dishwasher and turned it on. The dishes are done, he thought.

He was in the kitchen of Tonya's house. Like the rest of Tonya's life, the décor in the room was a strange blend of traditional and bizarre. The brass pulls on the cabinets were shaped like human ears. The table was a perfect white cube with slots for people's legs. The forks had spoons at the other end of the handles so one implement could serve both purposes. Most people thought Tonya was a little crazy, and Andrew knew that was an understatement. Sorcery and insanity often went hand in hand.

He peeked into the living room. Tonya and Charley were watching a television show about wedding dresses. Andrew couldn't imagine a more tedious subject, but the women were captivated.

He stopped and stared at the profile of Charley's beautiful face. She was tall and slender. Brown hair flowed like a river of silk over her shoulders. As usual, she was wearing a sweater, and today's selection was as green as new grass. It was a reminder spring was just arriving in Chicago. Trees had started to bud, and the last of the snow had melted. The long, cold winter had left Andrew very eager for a change in climate.

Sharing a house with both his girlfriend and his professor felt odd, but it was necessary. As long as Phillip was on the loose, Tonya had wanted her apprentices nearby for their protection. Andrew's classmates had questioned the arrangement though.

He snuck upstairs, taking care on the old, wooden steps to minimize the creaking noises. He went into his room and quietly closed the door.

He had lived in Tonya's house for just four months, but the place already felt like home. A wooden rack held a collection of swords including a claymore and a sabre. The weapons were fakes with aluminum blades, but they looked cool, and the BPI was paying him well enough to afford such extravagances. He had also splurged on a top-end computer with a purple case and green glowing highlights. He was using the computer to create three-dimensional models of fantasy monsters.

Andrew used his inner sight to confirm Tonya and Charley were still downstairs. In his mind's eye, the sorcerous energy they emitted appeared as swirling black clouds. Charley's flow was smooth, symmetric, and elegant. Tonya was obviously more powerful, but her flow was disturbed as if sharks were swimming just below the surface.

Andrew reached between the mattress and the box spring of his bed. He pulled out a notebook written by his grandfather which had come from the Vault. Blake had robbed the Vault originally, and Andrew had snatched the notebook from the loot. If he were caught with it, he would go to prison for a long time. The notebook was worth the risk though.

Lately, he had been reading about something called portal sorcery. As far as he could tell, his grandfather had invented the entire subject before his untimely death. Andrew felt obligated to carry on the research for the sake of family tradition, but doing so would be difficult. Tonya would never approve of an apprentice experimenting with cutting edge magic.

Andrew opened to a page in the middle of the notebook and read, 'Seams are doorways between our world and the Outside. There is no concept of distance in the Outside, and therefore, in a sense, all seams are adjacent in that strange place. In theory, one could perform telepathy between any seam in the universe and any other. My experiments have not shown this to be the case, however. Just as chaos leaks in from the Outside, some rationality leaks out from our universe. Distance does seem to matter at least a little. Fredrick and I found it easier to share our thoughts when we were merely two hundred miles apart compared to a thousand miles.'

The material captivated Andrew so much, he almost didn't notice Charley was moving until it was almost too late.

She knocked on the door. Hey, can I come in?

He stuffed the notebook under the mattress and tried to compose himself. Sure.

She entered the bedroom with a smile.

Tired of looking at wedding dresses? he said.

I like thinking about marriage.

He winced. I don't.

She chuckled. Calm down. I'm not expecting you to propose to me. We're both way too young for that. But after we graduate from college, I wouldn't mind if you took our relationship more seriously. She sat next to him on the bed.

I take it very seriously! I can't stop thinking about having sex with you.

That's not quite what I meant.

Speaking of sex..., Andrew said.

Not yet, Charley said. Tonya told us it's too dangerous. She had a worried expression.

He sighed with frustration. According to Tonya, sex between sorcerers, especially powerful ones like Andrew and Charley, could lead to all kinds of unsafe complications. A merging of minds accompanied the merging of bodies. Tonya had promised repeatedly to give her apprentices the special lessons needed to prepare them, but so far, those promises had gone completely unfulfilled. Tonya was clearly putting it off.

Let's change the topic, Charley said hastily. Are you ready for that physics test tomorrow?

Sure, I guess. Electromagnetic fields. At first I thought the math was impossible to understand, but now it makes sense to me. It's almost intuitive. The idea of intersecting waves is beautiful.

It is. She smiled. Within a year, you'll be bending those waves with your mind. I can tie a magnetic field into a knot.

I can't wait.

Andrew envied her amazing talent for physical sorcery, but he also had a specialty. He was a war mage, a natural genius at psychic combat. He could probably defeat any other sorcerer in the world, at least individually.

Do you want me to quiz you a little on physics? Charley said.

OK. The textbook is on my desk. Chapter 18.

She moved to the desk and opened the textbook. How does an electrical conductor work, and why are some better than others?

* * *

Andrew, Charley, and Tonya shuffled towards the Fine Arts Building of Theosophical University. They lived across the street, so the journey was very short, but Andrew still didn't appreciate it. It was so early, the sun had barely risen, and cold air hurt his nose. Tonya insisted on sorcery lessons first thing in the morning when the mind was fully rested and the stomach was empty.

The Fine Arts Building, like most of the campus, had a strictly Gothic Revival architecture. Roofs sheathed in green copper had very tall, sharp peaks. White limestone walls glowed orange in the light of the rising sun. The small, narrow windows had the same sharp peaks as the roofs. Thick, wooden doors with iron straps were suitable for a castle. It was strange to think the thoroughly modern City of Chicago, where the skyscraper had been invented, was only a few miles away.

The master sorcerer and her two apprentices entered the building through a back door. They walked down a flight of steep, concrete stairs which needed a good sweeping.

Tan tiles covered the walls of the basement, and they echoed every footstep. Andrew also heard rumbling and whistling noises from mechanical equipment behind closed doors. A spider had spun an impressive web between overhead pipes, and Andrew had to duck to avoid it. Fluorescent fixtures gave everything an unhealthy bluish tinge.

As he approached the Theosophical Seam, Andrew's awareness expanded, and his mind raced. Normal eyes couldn't see it, but he perceived a volcano of black energy visible from a mile away. The seam was the third largest in the United States with the mighty Manassas Seam being the most powerful.

The small group came to a door made of solid, thick steel. It was set in a steel frame and a concrete wall. The precautions were enough to keep ordinary people out, but Charley could've used her physical sorcery to soften the metal. Andrew sensed two men on the other side of the door, and he could've used his powers of mind-control to force them to open it.

Nonetheless, Tonya typed in a long code on a keypad, and she used her body to hide it from her students. Andrew waited impatiently. He was strong enough to pluck the code from her mind if he wanted. He was starting to wonder why she bothered, but she was a stickler for procedure.

She had a nice face for a woman in her fifties. She kept her straight blonde hair neatly trimmed. Blue eyes studied the world with piercing intensity. She had taken off her coat to reveal a formal black shirt and white slacks. A blue crystal necklace sparkled in the light.

She pulled open the massive door with two hands. Two men wearing blue suits were seated in a small antechamber inside. They were agents of the Bureau of Physical Investigation, the federal agency tasked with monitoring and controlling all sorcerers. The men were armed with compact assault rifles. Their job was to keep renegade sorcerers out when Tonya wasn't around to defend her seam.

Come back in an hour, Tonya said.

The agents stood up, hid their guns under their coats, and hurried down the hall. It was unwise and unhealthy for normal people to stick around when sorcerers were training.

Tonya led Andrew and Charley into the seam chamber. Odd items filled shelves, and the collection included raw materials like wood, stone, and glass for practicing transmutation. Three-dimensional puzzles and games were meant for honing mental acuity. The most interesting item was a huge, mechanical marble machine built by the apprentices. To get from the top to the bottom, a marble had to pass through dozens of unique obstacles.

Andrew sat at one of the square, wooden tables. What's the lesson for today?

Tonya and Charley sat with him.

You're taking a test, Tonya said.

He looked at her in surprise. I am?

Yes, she said, your final exam on mental sorcery. I think it's time you moved on to the next phase of your apprenticeship.

He grinned. I'm more than ready. Let's do it.

He noticed Charley looked a little tense. He reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze.

Don't worry, he said. This will be easy.

She didn't appear comforted.

Andrew was soaking up energy from the seam floating in the center of the room. In his mind's eye, it looked like a frozen lightning bolt quivering with power. All the raw chaos flying around gave the world a surreal edge.

We'll start with illusions, Tonya said. I'll describe something, and you make it appear.

Andrew settled into a meditative state. Go.

A red dragon.

Dragons were one of his favorite things, and forming the illusion came easily. Suddenly, Andrew, Charley, and Tonya were standing on a mountain top. A red dragon was soaring overhead, belching flame. Andrew included subtle details such as the sound of flapping wings. Thin, chilly air was so realistic, he shivered a little even though the illusion was his.

Gorgeous, Tonya said. A car race.

The three of them appeared in their own race cars on a steeply banked track. Other cars swarmed around, and the engine noise was deafening. Andrew was sweating under his helmet and fire suit.

Spectacular, Tonya said. Even better than I expected. A coal mine.

They were deep underground in a narrow, black tunnel. The only light came from dusty headlamps. Coveralls coated with black dust made the sorcerers almost invisible in the darkness. The air was still and warm. Andrew coughed up black phlegm.

These are too easy. Tonya paused. Let's try an illusion which might challenge you, if that's still possible. How about an electron circling an atom?

Huh? Andrew said.

Use your knowledge of physics. You have a test today, right?

He furrowed his brow. This illusion would not be easy. He chose a helium atom because it was relatively simple. Two protons, two neutrons, and two electrons.

Andrew knew the nucleus was tiny compared to the orbits of the electrons. He imagined a hard, dense nugget the size of a mustard seed. Electrons didn't actually fly around the nucleus like planets around a star. Rather, the electrons were smeared out to form stable, spherical clouds according to Heisenberg's uncertainty principle.

Slowly, the illusion came together. He imagined hovering over a helium nucleus like a translucent ghost. He telepathically pushed the image into the minds of Tonya and Charley.

I'm not getting a sense of scale, Tonya said, and the background is just white noise, but all things considered, it's an acceptable effort. You pass.

Andrew let himself relax. Thanks. What's next?

Normally, I'd test your telepathic abilities and psychic defenses, but I already know those are even better than mine. Frankly, there isn't much left to assess. I suppose I have no choice but to say you're done.

Done with what? he said.

You're proficient in all major forms of mental sorcery, which means you're exactly half-way through your apprenticeship in less than a year. Congratulations on an incredible and intimidating achievement.

Tonya shook Andrew's hand. Charley gave him a warm hug and a kiss, and she seemed much more at ease than before. He felt a glow of pride.

So physical sorcery is next? he said.

You'll get your first lesson tomorrow, Tonya said. Today, just watch Charley. Learn from her example.

Sure. I could watch her all day.

He grinned, and Charley blushed.

Tonya stood and went to one of the many shelves. She came back with a mechanical scale and a tiny brass weight. She placed the weight on the scale, and it weighed one ounce.

We're going to mess with gravity today, Tonya said. Observe.

She focused on the weight. Andrew sensed her energy swell from a minor tempest to a major hurricane. Black waves swirled around the room to form a whirlpool with Tonya at the center. The seam pulsed a little quicker as it fed her power.

The needle on the scale shifted to three quarters of an ounce.

Tonya exhaled and stopped the spell. The scale returned to normal.

What's the secret? Charley said eagerly.

The mass of the Earth causes space to curve, Tonya said. You just have to flatten it out. Start by sweeping your awareness back and forth until you can detect the curvature. It's subtle, so be patient.

Charley put her hands on the table and stared at the weight. Andrew sensed her power swelling. The black storm swirling around her wasn't as intimidating as Tonya's, but Charley's energy was more elegant. It flowed cleanly and symmetrically, and she wielded sorcery like a precision instrument.

Andrew knew he was supposed to be paying attention to her, but he looked at the seam instead. According to the notes written by his grandfather, Andrew could unlock hidden features of the seam by performing simple exercises. He had memorized the relevant passages in the notebooks just in case he had an opportunity.

Tonya was watching Charley and giving her occasional advice. Nobody was looking at Andrew. He couldn't resist the temptation to try a supposedly quick and harmless exercise.

He extended his awareness into the seam itself. He studied its shape and texture in as much detail as possible. With mental fingers, he stroked the jagged, shimmering edges. He watched tiny, glowing sprites dance mindlessly in a swarm. He observed the energy scatter outwards until it separated into droplets. The seam had a heartbeat, but it was irregular and made Andrew think about death.

Andrew? Tonya said. What are you doing?

Andrew shook himself and looked at her. Nothing.

I was getting a very strange vibe from you.

I was messing around. I'm sorry. I know I should be watching Charley.

Both Tonya and Charley were staring at Andrew suspiciously.

He smiled disarmingly. Hey, give me a break. I just passed a big test. Can't I play around a little?

We follow the lesson plan in here, Tonya said. Play must serve a purpose. Aimless messing around is how sorcerers get killed.

I understand. It won't happen again.

And by the way, passing a test is no excuse. You're more dangerous now than ever. Every incident like this one makes me wonder whether you have the maturity to handle your powers responsibly.

I heard you, Andrew said. Can we please drop the subject?

Tonya's clear blue eyes stared at him for a moment.

She leaned forward and lowered her voice. I don't like being a nag, but I'm trying to keep you alive. I've already told you war mages tend to have short lives and violent deaths. They make enemies much more easily than friends. I want you to be different. To survive, you'll need to play by all the rules, all the time. You have to prove over and over that you're trustworthy. Even a small slip can be costly.

Andrew had nothing to add, so he just nodded. Despite the lecture, he had no intention of giving up his grandfather's sorcery. Andrew just needed to be smarter about it.

OK. Tonya turned back to Charley. Let's continue the lesson, and Andrew, pay attention.

* * *

Phillip signed his name to a hand-written letter. The paper was smooth and shiny, and he had used an old-fashioned fountain pen. He carefully folded the letter and stuffed it in a red envelope. He wrote the words For Andrew and Charley on the front in elegant script. He dropped the envelope into the slot of a ventilation duct where nobody would find it.

Smiling, he looked around the storage room that had served as his study. The shelves were bare now, and only furniture remained. Icepick and Skater had gone to the trouble of wiping the whole room to erase any fingerprints, but Phillip didn't think the precaution had been necessary.

He hurried downstairs to the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Reisman were sitting at the table with their two children. The housekeeper and the nanny were standing by.

Phillip stopped to address the family. You'll never see me again, but you have your orders. He looked meaningfully at the little boy and girl. Don't forget them. There is just one thing left to do before I go.

He walked over to Mrs. Reisman and stared into her eyes. Of all the members of the family, he had the lowest opinion of her. Beauty and sex had allowed her to lead a life of pure indolence. Her only useful skills were in bed, and she wasn't even a caring mother. She saw her children as annoying sources of noise and mess.

Phillip injected a memory into her mind using enough power to make sure it stuck. It would guide Andrew and Charley to the hidden envelope.

Sleep, Phillip commanded, and stay asleep.

Mrs. Reisman's eyes closed. She slumped forward onto the table.

Phillip left the house through the front door. A white moving van was parked in the driveway, and the engine was running. Icepick was at the wheel, and Skater was standing guard on the front lawn.

Phillip ran over and climbed into the cab of the moving van. Skater entered after Phillip, squeezing him between his two muscular bodyguards on the bench seat. It wasn't the most comfortable way to travel, but Phillip was safe, and that was the most important thing.

Onwards! Phillip commanded. My destiny awaits!

Icepick backed the truck out of the driveway.

* * *

Andrew had a smile on his face as he walked across the campus of Theosophical University. He had just crushed his physics test, and he expected to get a perfect score.

The weather was also putting extra spring in his step. Seeing green in the trees and on the lawns felt like being released from a long stay in a cold, white prison. A few brave birds tweeted on the branches despite the lingering threat of one last snowstorm. A gardener in green coveralls was preparing a flowerbed.

Andrew arrived at the university library. Most buildings on campus had a severe, Gothic architecture, but the library was modern, and it stood out like a sore thumb. The walls were made of tinted windows framed with black metal. Every line was perfectly vertical or horizontal. Even the bushes along the walls were precisely clipped.

Andrew closed his eyes and used his inner sight. He detected Tonya near the big seam in the basement of the Fine Arts Building. Charley was in a poetry class in another part of the campus. Andrew had a little time to himself.

He entered the library. It had three floors with a large atrium in the center. A sweeping spiral staircase provided access to the upper stories. The library was dead silent. In an age where all information was instantly accessible via the internet, a physical library was a quaint concept. Few students had the patience to go hunting for the right book among hundreds of thousands. The university persisted however in accordance with ancient tradition.

Andrew walked up to a librarian at a desk. She was an elderly woman with thinning gray hair. Pink lipstick looked bizarre on her pale, wrinkled face.

Hi, he said. Do you have a section for original manuscripts?

Of course, dear, she replied. Third floor, north side.

Thanks.

Andrew hurried up the staircase and arrived at the third floor. The wooden bookcases went from the floor to the ceiling, and books filled all available shelf space. He seemed to be in a section dedicated to military history with titles like Fifteen Decisive Battles and History's Greatest Generals.

He wandered until he found the section for manuscripts. The most valuable were locked in a glass case, but plenty were lying out on shelves. They formed uneven piles with loose sheets sticking out. He looked at one manuscript entitled M. Lordanskii Memoir, 1963, but the handwriting was almost illegible.

Andrew took off his heavy backpack and fished out the notebooks containing forbidden sorcery. He had decided keeping them in his room wasn't smart. Hiding them amid thousands of other manuscripts that nobody ever read was a much better plan.

He had a total of eight notebooks. He stuffed seven in the middle of a tall stack of similar looking material. He sat at a desk to read the eighth, but before he opened it, he checked for witnesses. He didn't see or hear a soul.

Andrew huddled over the notebook and read, 'Every seam is a locked door awaiting a sorcerer with the right key. These locks can be picked, but it takes patience. One must twist and turn, push and pull. When the energy flow shifts, you know you're making progress, but the changes are subtle at first. I've struggled with some seams for days before I could open them fully. The moment of triumph is well worth the trouble. For an instant, you can see beyond the boundaries of Creation. It is almost like looking through God's eyes.'

Andrew smiled. He desperately wanted to try the things he was reading about, but he didn't see how he would have an opportunity. He wasn't allowed near the seam without Tonya's supervision. He might have to wait years until he graduated from school and was given his own seam.

I'll figure something out, he thought.

He put the notebook in the bookcase, jogged downstairs, and left the library.

He walked across campus to the Fine Arts Building. His private martial arts class was next. Until Phillip was caught, Andrew's mission wasn't done, and he had to be ready for any kind of fight, even a fistfight. As the only living war mage, he was the BPI's strongest weapon against Phillip, and a deadly confrontation between the two of them seemed inevitable. Andrew went to a basement storage room which had been converted into a martial arts studio.

His instructor, Tungsten, was waiting. He was a huge man with the body of a barbarian warrior. Muscles were stacked on top of even bigger muscles. His skin color was somewhere between brown and tan, and Andrew had never figured out his ethnicity. A black Mohawk stood straight up from an otherwise bald scalp. A scar went between Tungsten's nose and his ear, and Andrew intended to ask about it someday.

You're a little early, Tungsten said.

More time to warm up, Andrew said.

The room had concrete walls painted white. Blue mats for practicing falls covered half the floor, and the other half was bare. A heavy bag hung in the corner next to a punching dummy. All kinds of pads and rubber weapons were on a wooden shelf.

Andrew went behind a free-standing screen to change. He put on a white karate uniform and tied a green belt around his waist.

At the same time, he tracked Charley's position as she moved across campus. He knew her energy signature so well, he could