Jacob strode out of the arena and back into the undercroft's humble darkness.

A tournament aide waited by at the end of the tunnel. He smiled at Jacob. "There is a post-match room available if you want to cool down after your match."

Jacob hesitated. He was on such a high he hadn't even thought about what came next.

"No, thanks," he said. He wanted to get back up to the others, see their reactions, and then take the rest of the evening off and enjoy the final match.

The tournament aide nodded in acknowledgement. Jacob strolled past him and down the hall of the undercroft in the direction of the stadium seats. Not a single thought went through his head. Elation consumed him entirely. He trailed his fingertips along the pockmarked concrete wall as he navigated the now familiar labyrinth of tunnels and corridors.

The quarter-final. He could hardly believe it.

Up ahead at an intersection, a voice drifted down the normally vacant halls.

"What was I supposed to do?"

Jacob frowned. Was that Archie? Who was he talking to?

Jacob reached the intersection and peered down the hallway Archie's voice had come from.

The big boy stood near the other end, next to a stairwell that, according to the signs, led down to the generator room. He paced back and forth, cellphone held up to his ear. Jacob hadn't known there was reception down here.

"...figure something out! You're a goddamn Vanderbilt! Our family..." A voice barked from the phone so loudly Jacob could hear most of it. Archie bent his head away from the phone, wincing. "...lose to some nobody? He's not even from a magical family... didn't know about magic until two months ago!"

"But, dad, he's a white mage, and he's good with magic and-" Archie paced back and forth, clutching at his hair with his free hand.

"He's nobody! Do you know... our family's reputation?! ...will laugh at me now."

"What was I supposed to do?" Archie barked back, his face flushed, a vein standing out in his forehead. "I didn't even know that was a spell. It was borderline cheating! No one could have won that. He basically had limitless magic!"

"More excuses? You're an embarrassment to yourself, Archibald, and a disgrace to this family... raised you to be better..."

Archie grimaced. He turned and noticed Jacob standing there. His eyes went wide, then he scowled and stalked off, throwing open the door to the generator room. The garbled voice of his father diminished, then was cut off as the door clicked shut.

Jacob sighed. Maybe his parents weren't so bad after all. He turned around and continued back up to the stadium seating.

Christ, but he felt bad for Archie. He'd had so much riding on that match.

No! No, fuck that. Fuck Archie's dad, and fuck them both for making him feel bad. He'd won fair and square, he should get to enjoy this, not ruin it by feeling sorry for Archie. There were only so many times you could win matches like this, only so many times you as the underdog achieved the upset on the big days, only so many moments in your life on a high as high as this. He knew that now. He knew it because he'd never in seventeen years felt anything like he did after winning his matches. It was more precious, more ethereal to him than an oyster's pearl.

Jacob emerged from the tunnel into the sunlight and the stadium seating area.

A low rumble of recognition passed through the students. They were all looking at him.

"There's the man of the hour," Victor Vincent said. He lounged in the front row with his arm around Maria's shoulders, much as he had been the weekends past. His eyes held a curious light. "You're an interesting mage, Jacob."

"You're an interesting cat yourself, Vic," Jacob said before he could stop himself. Vic? Had he heard anyone call him that before? Oh wait, he didn't care.

Victor laughed. "I look forward to our match next weekend."

Jacob grunted.

Footsteps pounded down the aisle, and then Blake threw himself at Jacob.

"My man! My fucking man!" Blake said, squeezing Jacob in a hug, then pounding him on the back. "Let's fucking go, dude! What the heck was that? I gotta be honest I thought you were done for!"

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Jacob grinned. "Just a little trick, y'know."

"I'll say. I can't believe you beat Archie. Unreal," Blake pounded him on the back again. "Congrats man, that was awesome."

"Thanks," Jacob was suddenly aware of the entire class looking down at him and Blake. "Let's go sit down. I'm gassed."

"Right, duh."

They made their way up to their seats.

Camilla's arms were folded, her eyes narrowed.

"What?" Jacob asked, grinning. "No congrats? No 'damn, nice win, Jacob?' No 'wow, cool spell?' No-"

"Ha ha," Camilla said. "Congratulations on the win."

Jacob plopped himself down in the seat.

"So, when were you going to tell me you'd learned Production siphoning?" Camilla asked.

"Is that what that was?" Grace asked.

"I only managed to successfully cast it yesterday," Jacob said. "I wanted to keep it a surprise. Do you know it?"

Camilla tensed. "I didn't, but now I do," she squeezed out through gritted teeth. "Didn't recognize it, but watching its effects and..." she lowered her voice, "knowing of a certain book someone is in possession of, it didn't take much to put two and two together."

Jacob chuckled. "I needed something to beat him."

"Well, it was well done," Camilla said.

"Thanks."

Jacob hesitated, then surged forward. "You up for a training session tomorrow morning?"

"Getting an early start on next week?"

"I have Victor."

"Right, and yes, I'm in."

Jacob smiled.

----------------------------------------

They watched the final match between Diego and Zelda. Blake, Camilla and Jacob eagerly discussed the various spells and tactics used. Grace had left after congratulating Jacob, citing a need to study or else 'she'd miss out on the gala.'

Jacob thought about also leaving to go catch up on lectures he'd missed, but didn't, wanting to enjoy as much of the waning tournament as he could. After this match there would only be 7 left, at least one of which he wouldn't be able to watch. He could hardly believe it was almost over. It felt like just yesterday he'd been gearing up for that first fight with Altman.

After a solid back and forth, Diego forced Zelda out of bounds with his physical augmentation. Next weekend he'd face off against Sophia, who'd won her match earlier.

The day's matches over, the trio joined the long line of students filing out of the stadium. Jacob hadn't seen Archie since the encounter outside the generator room. He did feel a little bad for the guy. After all, they were friends. Well, Jacob thought they were still friends. But maybe instead of walking away, he should have gone and supported Archie. That was what a friend would do, right?

But he didn't even know what to say. Hey man, tough luck. You fought well. Yeugh, that sounded hollow.

The undercroft's corridors amplified the din of chattering students as the entire stadium filtered out through a couple exits.

"Are we going to the cafe?" Jacob asked. "I'm starving." He wondered what their plans were going to be for the night. It was Saturday, and he felt like he could stay up until Monday morning straight. Maybe they'd have another 'rave.'

"Me too," Camilla said.

"Let's go to the cafe," Blake confirmed.

Mr Michaelson stood next to the nearby stadium exit, arms folded across his chest. He scanned the crowd. His eyes lit up as he spotted Jacob, and he pushed his way through the other students.

Uh oh.

"Jacob," Mr Michaelson said. "I want to talk to you for a moment."

"Oh, okay," Jacob said.

Mr Michaelson put his hand on Jacob's shoulder and steered him out of the line of students.

"I'll catch up to you guys at the cafeteria," Jacob called to Blake.

Blake watched Mr Michaelson with narrowed eyes, but nodded.

Jacob followed Mr Michaelson over to a nearby wall where the din wasn't so loud.

The burly professor leaned back against the wall and folded his big arms.

"Where'd you learn that spell?" Mr Michaelson said in a neutral tone.

Jacob had been subject to seemingly honest questions asked in innocent tones that in reality masked venomous consequences so frequently he'd developed an acute threat response to them. Questions like: Where were you after school? Why are you home so late? How did you do on your math test?

The hackles on his forearms raised and his mind instantly raced away with the possible answers and follow up questions, the potential angles Michaelson was trying to achieve and the consequences of each.

"What spell?" Jacob said, stalling for time to process.

Mr Michaelson chuckled. "The Production siphoning. We don't teach that spell at Tisdale."

"I learned it from Mr D'Angelo," Jacob said.

"From his book?" Mr Michaelson asked.

Don't show you know it exists. "From him."

"From Antonio D'Angelo himself?"

"Yes. He taught me how to cast it."

Mr Michaelson narrowed his eyes. "You're telling me the Antonio D'Angelo taught you Production siphoning?"

"Oh, um, well, I know him in person. I go to normal high school with his daughter, Camilla, back in Vancouver. That's how I first got into magic," Jacob ran a hand through his hair. "Um, if you need proof you can ask Camilla. There's also a report on a whole incident with a rogue mage that we had to deal with back in Vancouver."

Mr Michaelson blinked and unfolded his arms.

Gotcha.

Jacob could see the gears turning in his professor's head.

"So, if I asked Mr D'Angelo, he would corroborate this?"

Jacob shrugged. "Yeah, but Camilla says he's away on assignment in the magical world right now and won't be within reach for another couple weeks."

"So you don't know anything about a break-in to the restricted section of the Dynas Library?"

Jacob froze. How had they found out about that? Shit shit shit. He covered this with a well practiced surprise feign. "What?! Someone broke in there?"

Mr Michaelson nodded.

"No, I uh, I had no idea," Jacob said.

Mr Michaelson sighed, then pushed himself up off the wall. "Well, I suppose I can't fault D'Angelo for what he chooses to teach kids," he said, though he only sounded half convinced. "But, I'd focus on other spells for next weekend. The judging committee is going to meet to discuss what you did. Likely, they'll edit the rules to ban it. Which... I suppose is an accomplishment in and of itself. Anyway, go on, enjoy your evening. Congrats on your win."

"Thanks."

Jacob nodded farewell, then turned and walked as normally as he could out of the stadium, all the while feeling Mr Michaelson's eyes on his back.