Outlier: Spellslingers Academy of Magic

Book 4: Spellslingers Academy of Magic

by Annabel Chase

Genres: Mystery; Supernatural suspense

Synopsis

It's my second year training to become a Sentry of the South at Spellslingers Academy of Magic and I'm still fighting a reputation I don't deserve. It was my grandmother's addiction to magic that tarnished our family name--a grandmother I still love and adore. When she asks a favor of me, I can't refuse her dying wish...and it sets off a chain of events I never expected. With the help of a charming and sexy druid, I set out to locate a missing professor, but what we discover is far worse than we ever imagined.

A fight to restore my family's honor has become a fight for my life and the lives of everyone I hold dear. Will we be able to find the professor in time and preserve life in the quadrant as we know it?

Outlier: Spellslingers Academy of Magic, Sentry of the South (Book 1) is an urban fantasy mystery with humor, action and adventure, a powerful heroine, and an unlikely hero.

Don't miss the first trilogy in the Spellslingers Academy of Magic series--

Outcast, Warden of the West, Book 1
Outclassed, Warden of the West, Book 2
Outlast, Warden of the West, Book 3

Release date: July 12, 2018

Publisher: Red Palm Press LLC

Print pages: 206

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

I approached the canopied mahogany bed with caution. Soothing classical music played in the background, a regular feature in this room. My parents had advised me to leave her to rest, but today was my last day at home before I had to return to the academy for my second year. I didn't want to lose precious moments with my grandmother. Not in her frail condition.

 

“Come closer, dear heart.” My grandmother's wrinkled finger beckoned me forward.

 

I perched on the edge of the bed, careful not to put too much weight on the mattress and shift her delicate body. “How are you feeling today, grandmother?”

 

“I am a yawning void,” she said weakly. “An abyss. A vessel that is missing its most critical component.”

 

To anyone else, it might have sounded like the ramblings of an elderly woman, but I knew better. Helena Caldecott Degraff was a witch who had been stripped of her magic years ago due to a magical addiction that destroyed our family name. Our golden status in society had been irreparably damaged by my grandmother's actions.

 

She stared at me with her pale green eyes. They were like staring into my own. My grandmother must've had the same thought because she said, “So much like me. Like looking into a mirror of my youth. Oh, to be young and beautiful again.”

 

I bristled, though it was unintentional. My looks were only the beginning of our similarities. Her hair, now a shining silver, had once been the same strawberry blond as my own. Her confidence—I had that in spades, sometimes to my detriment.

 

“You are still young and beautiful in my eyes,” I said. 

 

My grandmother chuckled. “There is nothing I miss so much as magic. Even now, it calls to me. Life has never been the same without it. Like losing my soul.”

 

I couldn't imagine what it had been like for her, to struggle with such a serious addiction. A battle that she ultimately lost. Even now, there were whispers whenever we dared to go out in public. What had once been a prominent family name was now the object of scorn and ridicule. My grandmother's addiction had left destruction in its wake. Our family lost its fortune during the height of her addiction. My parents still seemed to resent her. I had foolishly thought that my admission to Spellslingers Academy of Magic would help improve their relationship. After all, the academy is a prestigious training ground and I was well on my way to becoming a highly respected Sentry of the South, an agent for the Agency of Magical Forces. The AMF is the premier organization for law enforcement and intelligence in the paranormal world.

 

“I fear I do not have much time,” my grandmother said. She curled her delicate fingers around mine and squeezed gently. “If I may be so bold, I have a final request.”

 

“Of course. Anything for you,” I said.

 

Her thin lips curved into a smile. I couldn't remember the last time I’d seen her smile. The image made my heart sing.

 

“There is a potion I would like to taste one last time.” Her voice took on a dreamlike quality. “What harm can it do now?”

 

I frowned. “What kind of potion? You know I'm not allowed to give you anything magical.” That was strictly verboten.

 

She patted my hand. “Danielle, what harm could it possibly do to appease a dying woman?”

 

I hesitated. “Which potion is it?” Maybe I could sneak into the cellar and see whether my family kept a secret stash.

 

“I have to warn you,” she said. “It isn't readily available.”

 

Alarm bells rang in my head. “What do you mean? Why would it not be readily available?”

 

“It is available, dear heart,” she replied. “But you must know where to seek it. My contact’s name is Victor Birch. He will be able to accommodate you.”

 

“Where can I find him?” I asked. I had the distinct impression I wouldn’t be walking into an apothecary's office and requesting this potion.

 

“He has a place not far from the academy,” grandmother said. “Victor and I have a history of working together.”

 

“How many years ago was that?” Although she’d attended Spellslingers in her youth, my grandmother hadn’t spent significant time in that area in many, many years.

 

“Victor is a druid,” my grandmother said, as though reading my mind. “They live very long lives.”

 

I stroked her arm. “And so will you. You don't need to make a final request because you are not going anywhere.” I cringed at the sound of desperation in my voice.

 

My grandmother clucked her tongue. “Danielle, you are smarter than that. We are strong witches and that means we do not need to coddle each other.”

 

No, coddling was not something that went on in my family.

 

“Your familiar is eager for your return,” my grandmother said. She inclined her head toward the doorway. Sure enough, Clementine crossed the threshold and jumped onto the bench at the base of the bed before joining me.

 

“A beautiful cat,” my grandmother said, “for a beautiful witch. She is a good companion to you.”

 

I scratched behind my familiar’s ear. “She certainly is.” My grandmother's familiar, Tessa, had died when my grandmother was stripped of her magic. One of the many tragic consequences of the addiction. It seemed that once their magical bond had been severed, the cat couldn’t survive on her own. The healers had been baffled by the outcome, but my grandmother swore to this day that she had warned them. She wasn't prophetic, but her instincts had always been spot on.

 

“The potion is called Amplexudo,” my grandmother said, her voice cracking. “One last taste and I feel that I would be ready to move on.”

 

My jaw tensed. “Well, I'm not ready for you to move on, so there will be no potion, grandmother. I'm sorry.” Not to mention that I risked the wrath of my family if I gave in to her wishes.

 

“Dear heart, I beg you.” Her voice faded. “One last time.”

 

My chest tightened. “I can’t. I’m so sorry.” I bolted from the bedroom, with Clementine hot on my heels.

 

I moved through the hollow belly of the house, long devoid of its impressive display of antique furnishings. Over the years, everything that could be sold had been sold to pay for the upkeep of the estate. On the gallery landing, I passed the familiar rows of framed accolades, one of the few reminders of our family’s illustrious past. Commendations for dedication to public service. Outstanding Achievement. Excellence in Magic. I fully intended to add my name to the wall one day and bring honor back to the family.

 

“Dani, where were you?” My mother stood at the bottom of the staircase, her hands on her slender hips.

 

“Grandmother summoned me,” I said, as I continued down the steps. Clementine followed closely behind me, not wanting to make eye contact with my mother. My familiar already knew this conversation would not go well. 

 

“Just because she summons you doesn’t mean you need to go,” my mother said firmly.

 

I reached the foyer floor. “She’s unwell,” I said. “You should call for a healer.”

 

My mother cocked her head. “What did she want? To hold your wand?”

 

You know I don’t bring my wand into her room,” I replied, somewhat annoyed. I followed the rules. Always.

 

“Don’t let her manipulate you, Dani,” my mother warned. “She may be old, but she’s still a clever witch.”

 

“Where’s Dad?” I asked, ignoring her remark. I hated when they spoke about my grandmother like she was a criminal mastermind. My whole life I’d been told how similar I was to my grandmother, so what did these negative comments say about me?

 

“He’s in the southern garden,” my mother said. “He wants to try a new mixture for his arthritis.”

 

“Or he could pay a visit to Galen,” I said. Galen was a local druid and the family’s longtime healer.

 

“Even at the reduced rate he charges us, Galen costs money,” my mother said. Her tone left no room for argument. “What time do you leave in the morning?”

 

“Early,” I said. “No need to get up. I’ll say my goodbyes tonight.” In truth, I didn’t need to leave at the crack of dawn, but I was eager to return to the academy—to my friends, to academics, to a life away from the estate. This term break had been challenging, mainly because I now had a respite from the suffocation I felt here. More than a respite, really. My chosen family.

 

“Go and spend time with your father,” my mother insisted. “He deserves more of your attention than her.” My mother rarely referred to my grandmother as anything more than she or her, impersonal pronouns that would be considered rude under different circumstances.

 

I nodded and turned left to take the long stretch of corridor that led to the garden. My father spent a lot of time outdoors, probably to escape the same suffocation I felt inside the house. I found him in his usual pose—glasses askew and an untucked shirt—probing an alder cone. He was so intent on extracting the seeds from the small black cone that he didn’t hear me approach.

 

“Enough seeds?” I asked.

 

He jumped back, startled.  “Dani, so sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

 

I suppressed a smile. “Yeah, I got that impression.”

 

He dusted off his hands and adjusted his glasses. “Is there anything here you’d like to take back to school with you? Maybe it would cut down on extra expenses.”

 

I shook my head and felt the end of my ponytail brush against my shoulders. “The academy has plenty of plants, Dad. They don’t charge me for them.” The reality was that the academy didn’t charge me for anything. Chancellor Tilkin had seen to that.

 

“No, I suppose not.” He wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow. There was nothing like the hot and humid summer weather of Fairhaven. No wonder we always struggled to breathe here. Maybe it wasn’t the family history after all.

 

“Will you get a message to me if Grandmother takes a bad turn?” I asked. “I want to be here.”

 

“You can’t leave school during term,” my father insisted. “Your grades are too important this year.”

 

“You said that last year, too,” I replied, plucking a sweet alyssum blossom. I inhaled the pleasant aroma before tucking the small white and yellow petals inside the band of my ponytail.

 

“Every year is critical,” my father said. “You can’t simply go through the motions at Spellslingers. You need to excel. At everything.”

 

“Did you see my first year report?” I asked, trying to keep voice even.

 

“First year is basic,” my father replied. “We expected nothing less than excellence from you.”

 

I strangled a scream. “Don’t worry, Dad. I excel. At everything. If my grandmother is at death’s door, I expect you to let me know. Chancellor Tilkin will allow me special dispensation. I know she will.”

 

My father returned his attention to the alder cones. “You’re very fortunate she took an interest in you. Otherwise, I don’t know where you’d be right now. The gods know you wouldn’t have been welcome anywhere down here.”

 

“Then I’d be excelling somewhere else, no doubt,” I said. “Because that’s what I do. I achieve.” And I wasn’t afraid to say it either. I didn’t believe in false humility.

 

My father hastened a glance at me. “So very much like your grandmother.”

 

“I’ll be leaving very early in the morning,” I said.

 

“You must be excited to reunite with your friends. It’s a shame they couldn’t visit you over the break. Maybe next time.”

 

“Maybe,” I said vaguely. In truth, I hadn’t actually extended an invitation. I’d wanted to see them, of course, but the break wasn’t very long and I didn’t want them to see what my life here was truly like. The estate was impressive, but once they experienced life within its walls, they’d pity me and I didn’t want that. I much preferred to be admired.

 

“I can drive you to the station,” my father offered.

 

“No, thank you. Clementine and I have already made arrangements.”

 

My father appeared unconcerned. “Very well. Then I’ll see you at supper.” He thrust an alder cone into my hand. “You should take this with you. Just to have something from home.”

 

I studied the tree bit in my palm. My father highly underestimated me. This wasn’t for his arthritis or a token from home. Mixed with other ingredients, alder cone seeds could be used as a suppressant. A magical suppressant.

 

“Why would you give this to me?” I asked. “You’re the one so intent on me scoring high marks.”

 

“True, but I want you to do it without losing yourself in the process. You control the magic. Don’t let the magic control you.”

 

I wanted to chuck the cone over his head and out of the garden. “I’m not like her.” Despite my protestation, I knew it was a lie. I was very much like her and it worried me, as plainly as it worried my parents. I was powerful and competent and highly motivated. If I weren’t careful, I could follow the same path, but I would never let anyone know that I felt that way. Not when so many others already felt that way for me. I had to be the one to believe in myself. To believe that I could overcome the seductive call of magic if it ever came to that.

 

My father placed a hand on my shoulder. “This family has put its faith in you, Danielle. Don’t let us down.”

 

I lifted my chin a fraction. “Have I ever?”

 

“No,” he said quietly, “but there’s always a first time.”