The Heartwood Chronicles

Lisette dropped from the sky, her wings folding behind her back, into a fast-disbanding group of sun mages. “Good job, every–” She gaped at Amber sitting under an olive tree. “What are you still doing here?”

Amber blinked. “Waiting for a ride back?”

“You have to meet the Headmaster at noon! Did you forget already?” Idiot hung unspoken in the air. “Come on, up.” She dragged Amber up to her feet, whirled her around, and jumped onto her back.

“What the–?” Amber’s braid swirled. “Am I supposed to give you a piggyback ride? And what is with you people and personal space?”

“This is the fastest way.” Lisette wrapped her legs around Amber’s waist and stuck her arms under Amber’s.

Amber caught sight of Kael’s face, round-eyed and slack-jawed. “Help, Kael! Lisette’s gone crazy.” Metal snicked as Lisette’s wings opened and spread.

“Oh, man,” he said. “Lisette’s giving Amber a lift. You lucky thing!”

Air currents pushed them into the air. The ground receded at a rapid pace.

Amber, legs dangling, closed her eyes. “You hate me, don’t you. You’re going to drop me any moment and I’ll splatter on those rocks like an overripe melon.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Lisette said in her ear. “Relax, will you. I’m strong.” She swooped and turned, curving toward Heartwood in the north. The ride was surprisingly quiet in spite of the speed. Amber focused on the patterns around Lisette and frowned. “You’re not just riding the air, are you? You’re–” Her eyes widened. “How can it be? You’re manipulating the light, too?”

“Huh. It took you about two seconds to figure that out. Maybe you aren’t half-bad as a mage, after all. Watch out, we’re landing. I’m letting you off here. Go see Ainsley—she’ll take you to the Headmaster’s office.”

They descended in tight spirals. Lisette slowed, but the courtyard still came up much too fast.

“Annnnnd, I’m off.” Lisette released her clutch on Amber, and sprang back up into the air.

Amber landed hard on her feet and staggered. She thought she heard Lisette snort, “Klutz,” but the sound was snatched away by the wind.

I think I prefer flight by cat-bird. Amber stood. Ouch, my poor body!

She staggered up to the doorway and fell through it into the lobby. Ainsley looked up from the desk, eyebrows raised.

“I’m here for my interview!” sang out Amber, gripping the doorway with one hand and smoothing her hair down with the other.

“Ooooh, Lisette just gave you a ride, didn’t she?” Ainsley turned faintly green. “I’m surprised you’re not throwing up. Whatever it is she does with the light—all those sparkles and flashes—it just makes me sick to my stomach.”

She looked at a timepiece on her desk and started up. Her chair hit the floor. “Oh, no! We have to get you at the Headmaster’s office right now.”

Paper birds flew in agitated circles as Ainsley grabbed Amber’s hand and towed her down several passageways. Amber recognized the library doors and the staircase to the armory as they rushed past.

Though… hadn’t they been in a different order earlier? Amber frowned as Ainsley led her past a row of narrow alcoves now used as storage spaces, then down yet another of the narrow staircases so beloved by the designers of Heartwood. A cold draft blew around Amber’s feet and shadows scattered as Ainsley snapped her fingers. Crystals set in the wall flared into jewel colors. Amber barely had time to notice their pattern—colors intermingled with a dark blot—before Ainsley stopped in front of a wooden door.

“In here.” Ainsley patted futilely at Amber’s tousled head and rubbed a smudge from her face. She smiled brightly, but her purple eyes were anxious. “You’ll be all right. Go on in.”

Wondering what kind of ogre she was about to meet, Amber pushed down the handle and entered the room.

Why does he keep it so dim in here? The door clicked shut behind and the sound seemed to come from a longer way away than it should.

It’s cold in here, and it smells rather musty. It feels like there’s a big space ahead of me, too, like some kind of cave.

Amber took a hesitant step forward into the grey twilight. “Hello? Headmaster? I’m here for my interview.”

Bars of warm sunlight slid into the room and slanted onto the wooden floor.

Wooden? Hadn’t the floor been stone just a few moments—

The room resolved itself into an untidy study, lined with bookshelves from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. A large desk piled with papers was squashed against one side. Squishy armchairs with worn leather upholstery and round tables covered in books jostled each other in the rest of the space.

A man turned from one of the shelves, book in hand.

“Ah. You must be Amberlin.” He smiled at her. He was a thickset man, not over tall, but muscular. His hair was a thatch, his eyebrows bushy, and his cheeks and chin were covered in dark stubble. He looked at her through sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes. “Here, look at this book. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

Amber automatically reached for the book. Her senses insisted that this room was cozy and charmingly male, just like Papa’s office back home, but the pattern nagged at her with wrongness.

Is this a test?

“Sir, I-” Her fingers curled around the book, but she was looking at Headmaster.

She stiffened. The makeup of his pattern… those suns! “Why, you’re—” Her eyes met his mild gaze.

Read Episode 6. 

Author’s Note: Curiouser and curiouser. The rooms at Heartwood don’t stay still and the Headmaster is… what? What has Amber gotten herself into? 

Idiot! But if I splat in the courtyard below, so will he. Wind rushed past Amber, squeezing the breath out of her. She screwed her eyes shut.

Suns winked into view under her, and then she was landing on something warm and solid and altogether alive. Amber fell to her knees, her fingers brushing against rough fur and clenching in long mane. An animal smell, pungent and golden, came to her nose.

Amber lifted her head. Huge golden cat body under her, huge golden cat head with large rounded ears in front of her. Feathered wings on either side beat through the air in vast sweeps.

Hurriedly, she sat up, her legs tucked awkwardly along one side of the beast to avoid its wings.

If she’d known riding was on the agenda, she wouldn’t have worn a skirt.

Kael, crouched behind her, yelled, “Isn’t this great?”

More of the cat-birds flew around them, each with one, two, or more students on its back. Far below, tiny black figures spilled onto the courtyard in front of the school, waving their arms.

“Slackers,” said Kael.

“Aren’t these—aren’t these flying cats yuka?” Amber shouted.

“They’re silfyls,” he shouted back. “We have a contract with them for transportation. They don’t count as yuka.”

So, there are monsters and there are monsters. That’s good to know.

The silfyl’s ears flickered. How much does it understand us?

They flew above the farmlands. A flock of vile-smelling, screeching birds rocketed towards them. Kael leaned forward and tapped the silfyl on the shoulder. It dropped, and Amber’s stomach with it.

The ground rushed up to meet them, alarmingly fast.

“Time to get off here, Amber,” Kael called. “You’ll be safer on the ground.” He put a hand  on her shoulder. “Ready?”

Amber gulped and prepared to jump. “I-I think so.” New grass lay in a carpet underneath. She was willing to be bet it wasn’t nearly cushioned enough.

Kael gave her a little push. “See you later!” Amber half-leaped, half-slid off the silfyl. “Bye!” he yelled.

A magical wind caught and slowed Amber long enough for her to throw together a simple buffer spell. Troi is being helpful? Would wonders never cease.

A gold streak to her right caught her attention. Kael and the silfyl, surging back up.

Amber landed less than gracefully, nearly falling onto her hands and knees. Recovering her footing, she looked around.

She was in a grove of apple trees, each draped in a lace of white blossoms, with stone-walled fields behind her. A stretch of stony, broken ground led to the forest ahead.

A bunch of monsters were currently charging across it.

Silfyls wheeled and dove all around them, dropping passengers. Amber saw Kael leap over the head of his silfyl, straight at a yuka that seemed to be made of stone. Heat shimmered off him in waves as he struck, sending the monster staggering backwards. Kael followed that up with a series of flaming punches and kicks.

And he wasn’t the only impressive one out there. Sun mages in the sky held off the reeking birds, Lisette darting silver-quick and silver-bright between them. She fought with a fan in each hand, spinning the sharp-edged steel weapons into blurs. Her attacks were taut and white, like drawn bow-strings, in Amber’s mage sight.

Troi floated in the air, wind whips lashing both birds and smaller land yuka. Two other boys worked together to freeze a yuka in its tracks. A girl ran in front of Amber, dragging a staff through the ground. She swung the staff like a croquet mallet, and a line of pebbles rained like missiles onto a group of chittering yuka that looked like demented monkeys.

I’ve never seen anything like this.

Everywhere she looked, sun mages—all young—fought yuka with a strength and skill that seemed to come straight out of story lore.

So this is what magic can be. Excitement stirred in Amber’s blood. I should help. She wove a pattern around the horde of demon monkeys, but a silver-blond boy and the earth-girl drove the pack back. She’d barely gotten started on one of the stone yuka when Kael smashed into it and Troi lashed the remaining rubble back into the air and into the birds.

Something shadowy and slick, like an oil spill, slithered past her. Amber twitched lines to trap it, but she was too slow. Turning her head, she saw it flitter into a group of yuka. Sun mages were already upon it.

Amber gritted her teeth. Do I even have a place here?

The mages’ suns were so bright, so beautiful. Amber stepped back, observing how the magical nodes were like constellations of stars, wheeling and turning together. Lines stretched between them.

There is something I can do. She set to work unsnarling a knot here, tightening some give there, smoothing out the pattern between the sun mages and the environment. She cut the yuka’s suns from the pattern, slowing them down, confusing their senses.

There. Now all the mages with a be a little faster, a little stronger. They might not notice what she’d done, but she’d cleaned up the pattern. She’d smoothed the way.

Kael dropped another yuka, turned his head, and gave Amber a thumbs-up.

Well, maybe someone noticed.

Perhaps I do have a place here, after all.

Read Episode 5.

Author’s Note: Happy Thanksgiving to US folks! I kinda wish this episode was about food, but maybe a large cat-bird creature will do instead. 

The null-spells were rather good for being mass-made and generic. Still, as Amber hurried down corridors paneled in honey-colored wood, she tweaked hers to make absolutely certain that the green sludge upon the floor didn’t harden around her feet or that the cloud of evilly glinting forks lurking around the corner came within stabbing distance.

Lisette marched along, ignoring booby traps, surges of power, and distant screams. “This is the Great Hall,” she announced, throwing open a set of double doors. She strode rapidly through the empty chamber. Behind her, Amber had a confused impression of vast space, trestle tables, and weird-shaped objects lining the walls high overhead.

Then they were out through doors on the other side and into hallways that turned and rose and dipped, snake-like. The floor underfoot was of uneven stone now, with smooth-worn hollows and upthrust edges.

“Careful,” admonished Lisette as Amber tripped on one and caught herself, her palm scraping along the wall. Magic, deep buried, tingled against her skin. The pattern ran through the structure in skeins. Amber wanted to stop and explore it, to run her fingers through its enchanted fibers. But Lisette kept up a brisk pace and Amber had to keep up or be left behind.

Later, she promised herself. And, remembering she hadn’t committed to this place, she added, Maybe.

Lisette pointed to narrow stairs winding down into darkness. “Down here’s the armory—you need a permission slip to get in, though we keep our personal weapons with us at all time.” Amber didn’t need the warning; she could sense the sharp thorns and sharp edges of the spells around the place. Prickles ran up and down her spine.

Complex, delicate webbing of magic surrounded the next set of doors Lisette stopped at. She flung open one of the intricately carved leaves, revealing floor-to-ceiling bookcases and a light orb in the center of the ceiling. “This is the library, but it’s worth more than my life if I let you grub around here without the Librarian around.” Amber had barely a glimpse of rows upon rows of bound books before Lisette shut the door and continued on. Wistful regret wrenched at Amber as they clattered down a straight narrow stairway that stopped abruptly in front of an exterior door.

They spilled into the sunshine, Amber blinking in the brilliant light. The two crunched across a courtyard, Lisette pointing out, “Flower Gardens, Kitchen Gardens, Healing Gardens, Poison Garden, Experimental Gardens.” A heavenly aroma of roasting meat and fresh bread made Amber yearn towards it.

Lisette grabbed her by the collar. “We’re not going to go to the kitchens or else we’ll be stuck there for hours. The kitchen staff love novelty, and you’re the first new face we’ve had over here in months. Come along.”

She dragged Amber away, and then spent an inordinately long time detailing all the features of the school’s many and extensive training grounds. Amber’s eyes glazed over, but thankfully, Lisette headed back to the buildings before she fell asleep.

“Those low buildings you can see in opposite directions”—Amber’s head turned to the left and the right—“are the dormitories. Girls’ to the left, boys’ to the right. The Masters have some nice lodgings among those brick buildings down there.”

Then it was back inside another wing where Amber saw door after door of classrooms, practice rooms, still rooms and laboratories galore, all taking up the second and third floors.

A group of boys, no older than fourteen, ambushed them from a classroom, waving staves. Energy crackled all around Amber, and she hastily erected a barrier around herself.

“Null spells, numb skulls.” Lisette tapped the flower at her should.  “Wouldn’t you be better off attacking Troi and Kael? Their hideout’s up in the attics near the northeast tower, and I know for a fact they haven’t discovered thet passageway that leads through the birdloft into it.”
The boys’ expressions went simultaneously blissful and devilish. Amber couldn’t decide if the effect was adorable or creepy.

“Thanks, Lisette!” said one, and the whole caboodle went charging the opposite way.

“Isn’t that unsporting of you, Lisette?” Amber ventured.

Lisette shrugged. “Those two nearly always win on Fools’ Day. I’m just making the competition more interesting. These stairs, here.” Lisette moved aside a wall-hanging and started up a winding staircase. Light slanted in from narrow arrow-slits in the wall.

“Here we are,” Lisette pressed her hand against the door at the top. It had no visible lock or handle, just hinges. The pattern within the wood shifted as the spell registered Lisette.

Oh, I could do that myself, she thought smugly.

The door swung open and they stepped out onto the roof.

A stiff breeze, smelling of pine and earth, blew Amber’s braid back in a waving banner. “What’s up here?” she shouted.

Lisette leaned against the parapet, beckoned Amber to join her. “Look!” she yelled.

To the east spread the town of Carradia. Beyond it was the wide curve of its harbor, populated with ships made absurdly small by the distance. Light rippled off waves in the open sea.

Farmland sprawled in a patchwork quilt to the south, fields and pastures divided by stone walls. Streams and irrigation channels threaded silver through new green and rich brown; a larger river wound like a ribbon towards the sea. Dark forests flooded the north and west; mountains rose like shattered teeth beyond them.

Once again, Amber felt that shivery feeling that was equal parts fear and excitement.

These are the Wild Lands. This is the place of Wild Magic.

Lisette’s eyes were fierce and far-seeing. A strange kind of watchful contentment was on her face, reminding Amber of a bird of prey. Her gaze fell on the wings over Lisette’s shoulder.

She’s a creature of high places and sharp light, of wings and winds. Whereas, me, I’m more like a chicken, content to roost in a comfortable place.

A sharp scent came to Amber’s nose. To the west, lines of magic whipped, went taut, then tugged. A small cry echoed inside Amber’s skull. She winced.

Lisette’s head turned in the same direction. Her eyes narrowed. “There’s something wrong—”

“Hey, Lisette.” Kael burst through the tower door, Troi at his heels. “What do you mean by–?” He came to a sudden stop, tense and listening. A light flared in his golden eyes. “Yuka.”

Lisette whirled. “We must—”

An alarm shrilled, screaming down her nerves. Amber jumped, her heart thudding against her ribcage.

“Masters are in a meeting,” Troi said, off-handedly.

“It’s only on yellow alert,” added Lisette, thoughtfully.

“We can take them on!” Kael leapt on top of the parapet. “Come on.” He held out his hand to Amber.

How can these sun mages stand the noise? Amber’s head was about to split. The din spread throughout the pattern, magical strands blurring and thrumming. Panic, broken-winged and bubbling, fluttered inside her chest. Amber clutched Kael’s hand, swallowed down the feeling.

“You all right?” His golden gaze was narrowed, intent.

Abruptly, the alarm cut off. Amber almost stumbled in her relief, then realized she was holding tightly onto a boy’s hand. Flushing, she clambered up beside Kael, but didn’t know how to break their hold without being completely awkward.

“I’m fine,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Monsters from the forests, attacking the fields. They always grow crazier at planting time.” Lisette thrust her arms through the straps of her wings, sprang onto the ledge, and dove off.

“Look lively,” said Troi and leapt after her.

Kael grinned. “You’re lucky, Amber. We didn’t have a yuka attack for three months after I got here. Let’s go.”

“Wai–!”

Too late. He put an arm around her waist and jumped.

Read Episode 4!

Author’s Note: Weird. I scheduled this episode… or so I thought. It just disappeared? Anyway, magical schools are fun to write. Amber may not always enjoy the goings-on at Heartwood, but I certainly enjoy writing them!

I have three episodes scheduled to finish out November. December episodes may be scarce, just realistically looking at my schedule and judging from my past performance, fyi!

Amber’s first glimpse of Heartwood… and her first impressions:

A road wound up the hillside in front of her. Heartwood Academy itself, composed of grey and brown stone and covered with climbing plants, looked to have been half-grown, half-carved out of the summit. The main building was a majestic edifice of five stories, red-roofed towers rising above the main bulk. Additional wings swept to either side and behind it.

“Pretty impressive, isn’t it?” said Lisette proudly.

Amber glanced at Troi. There was a different expression on his usually bored face, a softening of the eyes and mouth.

It’s his home. It means a lot to him.

As it does to Kael. Who’s already charging up the hill.

As they followed at a more stately place, as arched windows and detailed molding came into focus, as they crossed a graveled courtyard to the great front doors, Amber wondered, A year from now, will I feel the same way about this place? Will I even be here?

A horrible scream rang out, followed by an even more horrible cackle of laughter. An upper window turned grey, wavered as a boy fell backwards through it.

Amber opened her mouth to shout. The boy twisted in mid-air, turned his fall into a float, craned to look at them. His face split into a big grin. “Troi! Kael! You’re back.” Then with a snarled, “I’m going to get you for this, Vane!” he rose in the air and flung himself back through the window. Once again it rippled, then turned whole.

Troi and Kael looked at each other. “All right! It’s Fools’ Day!” With much pumping of fists, they threw themselves at the double doors and charged inside.

“Aren’t you two a little old for this?” Lisette called after them. Rude noises answered her.

A cloud of pink glitter steamed out from another window, followed by a truly noxious smell.

Amber said, “Gah?”

“Fools’ Day,” explained Lisette. “Students assemble into teams and wage war on each other, capturing bases while guarding their own, until there’s only one team left standing at the end of the day.”

“It looks dangerous.”

“Nah,” said Lisette dismissively. “We do have rules, you know. No permanent damage to the building, and no one should end up in either the infirmary or the morgue.”

“Oh,” said Amber faintly. “That’s reassuring.”

Lisette led the way into a high-ceilinged lobby. Stairways curled like stone ribbons above their heads. Voices echoed from a distance.

“Too late, Troi and Kael, we’ve already formed our teams.”

“Hey, we don’t need to be on any stinking teams. Troi and I will take you all on together.”

“Is that so? Well, bring it on.”

“Damn right we will.” Loud thumps punctuated with yelps succeeded the challenge.

Lisette went on, “It’s a pain, though, because we’ll need to pick up some null-spells at the front desk. But at least you’ll get to see one of our Heartwood traditions up close. Hey, Ainsley! You’re on desk duty again?”

The girl sitting behind a vast wooden desk looked up. A huge shelving unit with slots and pigeon holes was at her back. The surface in front of her was covered in sheets of colored paper and dozens of folded animals. “Yeah. The masters are all in a meeting. Master Zoya’s briefing them on the operation.” Her slender fingers never ceased folding, pressing, and re-folding the paper. Butterflies spilled out of her hands and spiraled up over the girls’ heads in a colorful flutter.  She dimpled at Amber. “You must be the new recruit.”

It was impossible not to respond to the warmth of the petite blond, even if her eyes were purple. Not grayish-purple, nor blue tending towards violet, but big, bright, intense, honest-to-Maker purple.

It must have something to do with the proximity to all this Wild Magic. Amber smiled at Ainsley. “I’m only looking around. I haven’t even been interviewed by the Headmaster. You all have way more talent and skill than I do.”

Lisette twitched her shoulder irritably. “If Master Zoya thinks you belong here, than she’s probably right. You have a bad habit of selling yourself short, don’t you?” And while Amber was still gaping at her, she asked. “Two null-spells, please, Ainsley. I’m taking Amber on a tour.”

She said Amber. Not newb, not problem, not slowpoke. Maybe she isn’t so bad after all.

The physical form of the null-spell was an ornate flower, with a profusion of waxy orange petals and a pin at the back. As Amber worked the stiff pin through the fabric of her tunic, someone said, “Ouch!”

“You all right?” Amber glanced over at Lisette, still fiddling with the spell at her shoulder.

Lisette looked at her blankly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Faced with Lisette’s frowning blue gaze and Ainsley’s interested purple one, Amber shrugged. “Nothing. Must’ve been background noise.”

A series of crashes rang out from an upper storey. Ainsley winced. Lisette grinned. “Probably. Come on.” She plunged towards a side corridor with a follow-me gesture.

Exchanging a weak smile with Ainsley, ignoring the bloodcurdling yells from above, Amber followed.

Read Episode 3!

Author’s Note: This arc is going to be a interesting one, since I’m weaving new material in with the old. Prior to this serialization, this section was just a fun introduction to Heartwood, but then I added in a stronger plot element that I can wrap up at the end of this arc. Hope it works out! Thoughts or comments? Let me know!