King Darian Ambrose III sat at the head of the long banquet table underneath an elaborate golden chandelier. Coupled with the fire in the hearth, it provided what would seem like a cozy firelit atmosphere under different circumstances, but the tension of this meeting undercut that feeling. Darian reclined in his chair, perching his elbows on the armrests and clasping his hands in front of his face. He held them there to hide his reactions from the other men. Darian wore a black coat with an imperial collar. He adorned the garment with his many medals. The room's light glinted off them to remind the guests of his accomplishments even when they weren't glancing at him. The crown was the only thing missing. Darian donned that for public appearances. The absence of his crown left his graying brown hair untouched and slicked back. He kept it as trimmed and coiffed as his closely cropped beard.

General Gregor Renault sat to Darian's right. Unlike Darian, he kept his hands clasped in his lap. Renault didn't want to cover the disdain on his sharp-featured face. He was the leader of the Endrian Army and Darian's chief advisor. Gregor wore his gray hair trimmed close to the scalp in the military style, accentuating his gruff appearance. He glared at the droning senator across from him, wishing he would get to his point already. Senators, guild leaders, and other advisors filled the rest of the table. Their half-finished dinners sat on plates in front of them. Some of them occasionally ate, but the conversation had distracted the others from the food.

"The Varidian ambassador is growing impatient. He would like to resume peace talks soon," Senator Duggan said.

"Does he still insist that they take place in Varidia?" Renault asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Then the answer is no. We will choose a neutral location if they wish to continue."

"The ambassador wants us to see the new regime first-hand to witness the change."

"Their new regime is a lie. First, they must regain our trust before we set foot on their soil. Why should we believe anything is different based only on their word? No talks unless we select the venue."

"Of course, sir. I will inform him of your decision," Duggan said, bowing his head to Renault in reverence.

Once he finished, King Darian shifted his gaze toward Daniel Becker, the head of the Royal Mage Society. Becker was a stocky man with a gray goatee. He was already a head shorter than those around him, but his body always leaned slightly to the right, making him seem smaller. He straightened the best he could when he noticed Darian looking his way. Becker smiled at the king but didn't receive the same in return. Darian's expression remained stoic.

"Becker, what are the academy's enrollment numbers for the new school year?" Darian asked, lowering his hands for a moment.

"We are down 13% from last semester, your highness."

"Are there at least some good prospects?"

"There are a few, your highness."

"Any tinkers? Lattimore will retire soon, so we need to find a suitable replacement," Darian asked, gesturing toward Harold Lattimore, head of the Tinkers' Guild.

"We have some, but no one on Lattimore's level," Becker said, nodding at Harold, who grinned.

"Well, you'll have to train them well then," Darian laughed. The sound eased some tensions around the table, but others noticed the joy didn't extend to Darian's eyes. "What was the name of the man who served my father? He was good."

"That was Brennan Lucas, your highness," Lattimore said.

"Yes, that's the one. He designed some of the best military equipment we've ever had. We need someone like that."

"He has a daugh..." a young man began, but he stopped short when Lattimore and Peter Vance gave him sharp glares. Vance was the head of the Metalworkers' Guild.

"Excuse me?" Darian asked, raising his eyebrows at the boy.

"Nothing, Your Highness. I misspoke."

"What is your name?"

"Tucker Blythe, Your Highness."

"He's my assistant. I apologize for his outburst," Lattimore said, eyeing Tucker out of the corner of his eye.

Darian held up a hand to silence Lattimore, but his stare remained glued to Tucker. "Son, you will show me proper respect. Finish your sentence."

"He has a daughter, Your Highness."

"Is she a Tinker?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"She's not old enough for the job. Plus, she's a handful," Lattimore said. A hint of a grin appeared on his face, but it vanished quickly.

"To be fair, she witnessed her parents' deaths. That would make anyone into a handful," Tucker replied.

"I knew Varidian invaders killed Brennan Lucas, but I didn't know he had a daughter who saw it," Darian said with a surprised look.

"She did, and she has no desire to continue her father's work because of it, Your Highness," Tucker replied. "Shaylie dislikes building war machines," he added, earning him another stern expression from Lattimore.

"We are on the verge of war with Varidia. I need new military technology. Please tell me the rest of the Tinkers' Guild doesn't share her distaste," Darian said.

"No, Your Highness," Lattimore assured him.

"Good, I..." Darian began, but Tucker also spoke at the same time.

"She doesn't mean..." Tucker started. He stopped and covered his mouth when he realized what he had done. A shudder seemed to pass around the table. Tucker hadn't attended enough of these meetings to realize how badly he had messed up, but the others expected what came next.

"Son, you have a bad habit of speaking out of turn," Darian said, narrowing his eyes at him.

"I apologize, your highness."

"Perhaps a few nights in a cell will cure you of your disrespect," Darian said, motioning for a guard. "Take him to the holding block."

"Your Highness! I beg your forgiveness," Tucker said, looking toward Lattimore for help. Lattimore avoided his eyes and shook his head.

"And I beg you to shut up," Darian said. He rubbed his temples while the guard grabbed Tucker by the arm. Then Darian turned toward Lattimore with an expression that said, "Why did you bring this whelp to our meeting?" Lattimore bowed his head apologetically. They watched the guard lead Tucker away as tears streamed down Tucker's face.

"That might have been an overreaction," Renault whispered to Darian.

"He was annoying me," Darian said.

"Yes, he was annoying," Renault said.

"The rest of you can leave. That will be enough for today," Darian added.

Once the room cleared, Darian spotted a guard pushing through the exiting throng. He hurried to Darian's side and said, "Your Highness, Hester Lane is outside. He says he has an urgent message for you."

"Send him in."

The guard turned and motioned for the doorman to let him inside. Hester looked disheveled. His black robes hung off one shoulder, and he was still barefoot. Darian could hear his feet patter against the stone floor. This brought a frown to Darian's face. What could have spooked him so badly that he forgot to wear shoes?

"Your Highness, may I speak with you privately?" Hester asked breathlessly.

"Yes, of course," Darian said, nodding at Renault. Gregor bowed and left the room with a curious glance at Hester. He ushered the remaining men out of the room and shut the door after nodding to Darian.

"I had a vision, Your Highness," Hester said after Renault left.

"Hester, we are old friends and alone. Call me by my name."

"Darian, this is difficult news, so bear with me."

"Take your time."

Hester closed his eyes and let out a long breath before continuing. When he opened his eyes again, he talked with the softness of someone consoling a grieving loved one. Hester even touched Darian's shoulder as he relayed every detail of his vision. The words shook Darian. His face grew darker with each passing second. By the time Hester finished, Darian held his head in his hands.

"Are you sure of this?" Darian asked.

"Yes, Darian."

"You said the dawn of a new season. That's in a few weeks!"

"Visions are warnings. We can prevent this."

"How? We don't even know who this traitorous mage is. Who is this Red Sparrow?"

"I don't know. Perhaps it refers to a red mage or someone with red hair. It could even represent one of the guard rookies. They wear red armbands," Hester said, but his last words elicited a barking laugh from Darian. The sound startled Hester.

"No rookie could best me. I was practicing magic while they were still in diapers."

"Of course, Darian. I could be taking the imagery too literally. Red could symbolize many things in a vision."

"You said the eyes glowed blue, so it must be a blue mage."

"But they also glowed white, and we know there is no white magic."

Darian stood up but moved too quickly and had to place his hands on the table to steady himself. He didn't want Hester to know how disoriented and queasy he felt, so he tried to hide the stumble. Hester noticed but didn't say anything.

"Why?" Darian asked. "Am I not a just ruler who treats his people well?"

"You are."

"I don't rule with tyranny. The people have freedoms. Is this how they repay me?"

"The people haven't turned on you. This is an individual, based on the vision."

"One person couldn't pull this off. The mages are plotting against me."

"Not all of them."

"No, but we don't know which ones, so they are all suspect. Find me more information!" Darian yelled. His voice echoed off the walls and rang in his ears. Hester heard the table creak and strain under Darian's grip. He saw Darian's eyes glow red, so he stepped back a few paces.

"We could put eyes and ears in the Mage Society."

"I already have some. You need to have another vision."

"I cannot force visions to come to me," Hester replied, but he knew it was wrong to say the second it left his mouth.

Darian roared and easily flipped the table. The remaining plates and silverware crashed against the hard floor, shattering and scattering with a loud clatter. Renault threw the doors open and rushed into the room but paused to survey the mess.

"Is everything alright?" Gregor asked.

Darian ignored him and turned to Hester with fury in his eyes. "I don't care if every oracle has to work around the clock! Give me more information!"

"Yes, Your Highness!" Hester said, hurrying into the hallway.

***

Royal guard training resumed the following day. They put the rookies through a series of tests and trials at the mage academy. Jake couldn't help but notice an increased guard presence. He figured it was an extra precaution due to the amount of magic they would perform in such a small area, but they made him nervous. Why were they staring at everyone so intently? Jake tried to ignore it while he stretched and prepared, but he felt they were looking at him specifically. The urge to give them a rude gesture tugged at him.

Meanwhile, Marcus divided everybody into their mage groups and sent them to different areas. The yellow mages gathered near the storage warehouses. They had sectioned off one of them with temporary dividers to create what looked like a maze. Maya could see it through the open door. It looked far too dark for her taste. Goosebumps formed on her skin when she peered inside.

"Relax, Maya," she thought, but it was useless.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

The sour look on Victoria Hurst's face wasn't helping. Hurst was a slender woman with gray hair in a braided ponytail. She stood beside the open door and consulted her clipboard. Maya found herself resenting her last name because it put her at the top of the list, which meant she would probably go first. Hurst confirmed these fears a moment later when she called Maya's name.

"Enter, Miss Abbott," Hurst said, pointing into the building. "Do not speak until they address you. Wait for instructions before proceeding. Good luck."

"Thank you," Maya said and stepped through the doorway. The usual deluge of thoughts flooded her brain when the lights didn't turn on. She could never seem to shut it up. "This is pointless. I should have taken the offer to be an oracle. It would have been safer," she thought. "Oh, who am I kidding? There is no safety now. I can't fight the inevitable."

"Calm your thoughts, Miss Abbott," a voice said. It was Hurst, but she didn't say it out loud. The voice was in Maya's head.

"Oh, great. She's reading my mind," she thought. "Sorry, Ma'am," she added quickly.

"Please just focus on the task," Hurst said. "No need for apologies."

Maya cleared her thoughts and entered the first room. The lights switched on the second she stepped through the door and found herself face-to-face with six identical women. They smiled at her with matching expressions and spoke in unison, but the cacophony of voices grated on Maya's nerves. Despite having the same voice, the sound created a disharmony that almost made Maya's ears ring.

"One of us holds the key to the next area, but five are illusions. The real person bears the key. You can only choose once, so pick wisely."

Maya reached out with magic to read the mind of the woman closest to her. In return, she received the echoing thoughts of six minds at once. This was even more off-putting than their speech.

"We are of one mind. You can hear our thoughts, but which of us is thinking them?"

She knew that method wouldn't work, so she walked among them. Her hand reached out and touched the woman to her right. She felt real, but that wasn't too surprising. Illusions played on the senses to convince you they were authentic. So, Maya looked into the eyes instead. The truth always lies in the eyes. You could recreate them with visual accuracy, but you couldn't replicate the life behind them. Maya searched until she found a pair that looked alive.

"May I have the key?" she asked.

"Yes, you may," the woman said, handing it to her.

Maya breathed a sigh of relief and unlocked the door before proceeding. She found the next room divided by a black line. A male instructor stood next to four clay jars filled with water. They placed them in ascending order of size.

"Remain on your side of the line and move the jars. Place them in the same order beside yourself," the man said.

She reached out with magic and lifted the first jar. She began with the lightest, which didn't present a problem. Maya moved two more without issue, but they grew heavier as she went. Weight mattered even while using telekinesis. The third jar wavered and spilled a little water.

"Dammit," Maya thought. "Pointless" was the next word that fluttered through her brain. "Just let it break and get out of here," she continued, but her face twisted. She pushed the idea away and thought, "Shut up. Oh, great. Now they'll think I'm crazy. I'm arguing with myself."

"Calm yourself, Miss Abbott," Hurst said.

The jar shook harder the more she lost her concentration, but she focused and steadied it before sitting it next to the other two. Maya completed the task and breathed. She hadn't even realized she was holding her breath until that moment. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she moved to the third section. This one was pitch black, but no lights turned on when she arrived. The darkness raised the hairs on her body. She almost screamed when a new voice entered her head.

"Reach out with your mind. There are obstacles in front of you, so use magic to sense the layout and navigate to the other side," a female voice said telepathically.

"Okay," Maya replied. She sent out waves of magic into the open space. As they bounced back, her mind filled with echoes of the surfaces. It created a mental image of what stood in front of her. Non-magical people called it magical sonar when they heard about the concept. Maya figured that was as accurate as you could get. However, she never felt comfortable using it. Maya banged her shins twice, causing muttered curses and more intrusive thoughts. A few tears ran down her cheeks once she reached the exit. "Why am I here?" she thought again. Sunlight made her squint when she stepped through the door. She let out a small laugh, but it brought more tears.

"That will do for today, Miss Abbott," Hurst said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Why do you keep calling this pointless?"

"It's just nerves, Ma'am."

Hurst paused before asking another question. "Have you been tested as an Oracle?"

Maya had to suppress an angry response. She was tired of hearing the question, but she answered. "Yes, Ma'am, and I passed."

"Yet you chose to join the guard instead."

"I have no desire to be an Oracle. What I saw was enough. I don't want to see anymore."

"Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way, but I understand. I'm aware of what true Oracles see. That can be challenging for everyone. If I may inquire, how long do you have..."

"Please! I don't want to talk about it!" Maya said sharply. "Sorry," she added.

"I apologize. You may go now."

***

Bret saw Maya walk away from the nearby warehouse. She didn't know he was there, so she unleashed the tears that had threatened to spill. Bret resisted the urge to go to her. His test was about to begin, so he had to stay put. Instead, he turned to Carl Davies, the instructor for the blue mages. Carl was a stout man with a long ponytail that defied his receding hairline. He also had sideburns attached to his mustache, leaving his chin bare. The rookies admitted it was a cool look, but it was only made cooler by the motorcycle he parked across the way. Davies knew he made an impression and did little to hide his satisfied smirk.

The blues gathered on the lawn behind the warehouses. The ground sloped to a small lake behind the campus. They lined up before the lake while Davies stood at the water's edge. Carl individually called them to do their tests, but watching the people before him made Bret nervous.

"Okay, Cable. Your turn," Davies said gruffly. "Step up to the line," he continued, but he noticed Bret was looking in Maya's direction instead of at him. "Cable! Are you with me?"

"Sorry! Yes, sir," Bret said, stepping up to the line. Davies turned to peer in the direction Bret was staring. When he noticed what Bret was looking at, Davies chuckled and shook his head.

Bret had watched the mages before him, so he knew what to expect. They would send different elements at him, and he would deal with them magically as they came. The frequency increased as they went to test the blue mage's ability to switch between elements rapidly. He readied himself and nodded, so the test began.

Flames erupted before Bret, so he channeled water to extinguish them. However, a strong wind pushed back against his water as it left his hand. He felt it spray into his face, making concentration difficult. Bret lifted his other hand and redirected the wind spell while pushing forward with the water. He found an opening to douse the flames. But, before he could cease his water spell, Davies took control of it and turned it against Bret. The volume of water increased and swirled around Bret, creating a vortex. It was dizzying, but Bret steadied himself and converted the water to a gas before pushing it away with the wind. Then, the cycle started over but faster. Soon, Davies changed the order to disorient him. Bret was soaked, sweaty, and breathless but maintained his composure.

"Okay, that's enough. Well done, Cable," Davies said once the cycle ceased.

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet. Step over to the lake," Davies replied, pointing at a spot beside the water. Bret obeyed. "Create an ice bridge to the other side," Davies instructed.

Bret reached down, placing his hand against the water, forming a long strip of ice connected to the lake's far bank. He tapped the ice with his foot to test it, but the size and thickness satisfied him. Ice spells never gave him trouble.

"Move to the center and stop."

Bret strolled because his shoes weren't suited for such terrain. His arms pinwheeled to keep his balance, which held firm. He felt foolish despite his success.

"When I say go, try to reach the far side."

Bret nodded and waited a few agonizing seconds. He could feel his feet sliding.

"Go!"

Bret took one step, but a strong wind gusted into his face, pushing him backward. He tried to redirect it, but Davies only pushed back harder. It was no use. Bret was almost back where he started and was lucky he hadn't fallen. The urge to give up nagged at Bret, but he realized a solution. Bret concentrated and teleported himself to the destination. He gasped for air because the wind in his face made breathing almost impossible.

"Now, open a portal and return to me," Davies yelled.

Bret obliged and stepped out beside Davies, who nodded approvingly. He was about to ready himself for what came next, but Davies stared at him blankly for an uncomfortable time. Bret's mouth opened and closed, making Bret feel dumb. He could see the impatience forming in Davies' gaze, but Bret also caught a glimmer in the corner of his vision. He turned and closed the portal, which earned another nod from Davies. Bret kicked himself for forgetting such a simple task.

"That concludes this portion of the test. Relax, Cable."

"Did I pass?"

"We're gauging where you stand. It's not a matter of passing or failing."

"But did I do well?"

"You did fine. Please move along so I can continue," Davies sighed.

"Yes, sir."

Davies' praise didn't assuage Bret's fears because he knew what came next. Bret spotted the nearby table full of minerals. This was his weakness. He never solidly grasped the scientific side of elemental magic.

"Please identify the metals and combine them to create something new," a sleepy-looking instructor said, gesturing at the table.

Bret did his best, but the result resembled a shiny, gnarled potato. He held it out to the man, grinning sheepishly. The man had to bite back a laugh.

"Now, enchant it," the instructor said, holding a hand over his mouth to hide his reaction.

Bret felt better because he was at least decent at this part. He channeled magic into it, making it glow and sparkle. Bret even added a soft hum that matched the pulse of the glow. He was proud of his melodic potato rock.

"That will do. Thank you," the instructor said, but his resolve broke, and he laughed.

Bret walked away feeling conflicted. He gave the instructor an annoyed glare, which the man ignored. Soon, he replaced those thoughts with something else. He glanced toward the spot where he had last seen Maya. She wasn't there anymore, but that didn't surprise him. Bret thought about finding her but realized it was best to leave her alone.

***

The red mages gathered on the opposite side of the mage academy's campus, so Jake had no idea how Bret's test was going. He was too busy focusing on the giant obstacle course before him. Jake studied every inch so he had an idea of what to expect. It looked like a grown-up version of the playgrounds from his youth, but he couldn't muster the joy and excitement of a child. This sight only filled him with nervousness.

To make matters worse, their instructor appeared to be late, and those guards were still staring at everybody. Jake watched the man inspecting the equipment instead. He was a skinny man in glasses and a jumpsuit with the word "maintenance" on the back. Once the man finished his inspection, he turned and grinned at the group.

"I hope you are all ready," the maintenance man said, but then he shape-shifted into a tall bald man with a thick black beard. He seemed chiseled out of stone. Jake laughed when he realized he was looking at Ben Franco, the red mage instructor. "Mr. Allen, you're up first!" Franco said, gesturing at Tony Allen.

Tony stepped up to the line and began his test. They gave everyone three minutes to complete the trial. The amount sounded more than enough until you became trapped on a tricky jump or a wide gap. Jake watched as Allen attempted to bounce off a wall and grasp an overhang, but his hand slipped, and Tony fell into the water below. Returning to where he started ate up almost thirty seconds. Jake analyzed Tony's mistake and considered how he would have done it differently.

By the time Jake's turn arrived, he was shaking with anticipation. So, Jake performed the breathing exercise they taught him at the academy. It calmed his nerves slightly, but Jake had to shake some feeling into his hands while he stood at the starting line. He also fidgeted with the leather wristbands he wore. Looking at the names written on them brought a modicum of peace.

"Okay, O'Reilly. Get ready," Franco said, glancing at his stopwatch. "Go!"

Jake sprinted toward the first obstacle. They spaced and staggered angled platforms a few feet from each other. Jake bounced from one to the other, sailing over the water with each step until he reached the platform at the end. Then he climbed a rope that led to monkey bars. He found the first few challenges simple but soon reached a gap he couldn't close without using magic. Jake channeled strength into his arms and swung across in a wide arc. His hands almost didn't catch the lip on the other side. A loud curse rang out as Jake felt a fingernail bend and break upon impact. He ignored the pain and continued.

Next, Jake ran toward a wall that looked too tall and smooth to scale. Somebody blocked the obstacle from the view of the other mages waiting for their turn. It sat behind a sharp turn in the course. When Jake saw it, he understood why they didn't want the other trainees to watch how their peers tackled the issue. This one required problem-solving. Fortunately, Jake knew what to do, so he didn't slow down. Instead, Jake magically hardened his body and smashed through the sheetrock. He left a Jake-sized hole in his wake.

"Oh, yeah!" Jake cried out, happy with his quick thinking.

On the opposite side, Jake found a set of enormous steps. They looked like stairs built for a giant. Jake poured magic into his legs and leaped from one to another in almost a bunny hop. He imagined he looked pretty amusing to onlookers. At this point, Jake felt aches in his sides and calves. His breathing grew heavy, and sweat cascaded down his face.

"Pace yourself," he thought, but he spotted one of the timers they hung along the course and panicked at the number. Jake thought he had more time left. "Dammit!" he muttered before increasing his speed. The decision was a mistake because he discovered a sheer drop at the end of the steps. Jake halted and skidded, stopping with his toes dangling over the edge. He waved his arms to find his balance.

Once he steadied himself, Jake leaped and directed the flow of magic into his legs to protect them from the landing. He performed a forward roll when he hit the ground and returned to his feet. But what Jake found in front of him confused him. He paused for a second, staring at the swinging targets. They painted a bulls-eye on them, so Jake understood what they expected. He hoped he had the energy left to complete the task. Jake drew in the energy around him and combined it with his own to create chi energy. There wasn't much because of his exhaustion, but he extended his hand and blasted the first target with a beam strong enough to shatter it. The others were farther away and moving faster. He clipped some of them, but he didn't miss a single one.

The exertion left him panting. Thankfully, he was at the final obstacle. Another wall stood in his way, but the finish line lay beyond it. Jake scaled and leaped over the barrier and used a burst of magic to drive himself toward the end. To his horror, the line moved!

"What!?" Jake said.

He thought his imagination was running wild, but the sight was confirmed. Jake spotted Franco waiting for him with folded arms and a devious grin. Franco was moving the line, so Jake felt anger welling up inside. He resisted the urge to shoulder block Franco as he passed him. Despite the agony in his muscles and bones, Jake flooded himself with magical energy and dashed forward until he crossed the goal. Something popped and tore in his thigh, sending Jake crashing. He grunted as the impact knocked all the wind out of him. A word escaped his lips that would have earned him a hard smack from his mother.

"You okay, O'Reilly?" Franco asked. Jake's response wasn't a word, but Franco understood the gist. "Stay still. You tore a muscle," Franco said, placing a hand on Jake's shoulder. Jake didn't realize he was trying to stand. He moved on instinct. "I need a healer over here!" Franco yelled.

"Did I make it in time?" Jake mumbled.

"No, you were fifteen seconds past the limit," Franco said. "Language, O'Reilly!" he added upon hearing Jake's retort.

"Sorry, sir," Jake said, but the anger returned. "You moved the line."

"Yeah, that's part of the test. I moved the line for everyone, so wipe that look off your face."

"Yes, sir."

Jake lay down on the grass and caught his breath as the healer arrived. She performed her magic, sending a shudder through Jake's body. He hated the sensation, but he loved the relief that came with it. Jake felt the muscle mending and sighed. Sadly, the magic couldn't repair his wounded ego.

***

Jake and Bret met after the tests ended. Bret looked as mentally exhausted as Jake felt physically. He also appeared to be searching for someone.

"Who are you looking for?" Jake asked.

"Maya."

"Seriously, man?"

"What? She looked upset, so I wanted to talk to her."

"Don't become obsessed again."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I mean. Don't get hung up on her like you did with Mandy." Jake's comment made Bret flinch and wince, so Jake felt terrible. "Sorry, but I know how you are. I'm trying to save you the heartache."

"I know, and you're right," Bret said. His shoulders slumped, but he stopped glancing around and focused on Jake. "How was your test?"

"Awful. Yours?"

"Alright, I guess," Bret shrugged. "Check this out," Bret said, showing Jake his glowing potato rock.

"What is it?" Jake asked.

"I don't know, but it's beautiful."

While they spoke, Marcus approached them with a cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. "Hello, boys. I see you survived your first day," he said. "And you've got a—souvenir?" Marcus added, looking at Bret's strange creation.

"Yes, sir," Bret replied. "Would you like to have it?"

"No, thanks," Marcus laughed. "How's your leg, O'Reilly?"

"It's better, sir."

"What happened to your leg?" Bret asked.

"I tore a muscle, but they healed me."

"No wonder you called it awful."

Marcus chuckled softly before reaching into his pocket for something. He produced a small business card and handed it to Bret. "I understand you need work on your technical magic, Cable," Marcus said with another glance at Bret's odd rock. "This man can help you. His name is Van Larson. He runs an engineering shop in the city."

"Thank you, sir!" Bret said, accepting the card.

"You're welcome. Now, go rest for tomorrow," Marcus said and left with a nod.

"An engineering shop?" Jake asked once Marcus left. "Can I come with you? That sounds amazing."

"Sure, but I didn't know you were into engineering."

"It fascinates me. Besides, something tells me I don't want to miss this."