— From the introduction to
Publication of the Supernatural Operations Corps
Once he was sure of his control, Britton experimented on his own; he opened a gate on the logging trail where he’d abandoned the police car, stretched it twenty feet high, then shrank it to a one-inch box. He focused on a tiny pebble. When he opened the next gate, it split the rock precisely in half. The flow was weaker, but not by much.
Once Salamander was satisfied with Britton’s control, he was permitted to rejoin the rest of the group. Downer was animating tiny fire elementals from a lit Zippo that one of the other enrollees was holding. She grinned as the marble-sized flames danced around her feet, boiling the mud in little patches.
She smiled at Britton and Therese as they approached. “It’s amazing!” she said. “I could have practiced on my own forever and it would never have come so quickly! The Dampener makes all the difference in the world!”
Britton couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, but his stomach twisted in anger.
Wavesign stood against the line of barricades along with the rest of the No-No Crew, his arms folded across his chest. He looked ridiculous to Britton, trying so earnestly to fit in with a group who wouldn’t even stand next to him for fear of getting soaked.
Tsunami approached him. Britton guessed she was a Hydromancer, as the moisture wicked away from her as soon as it touched her. She spoke to Wavesign in low tones, but he pointedly ignored her, doing his best to look aloof for the No-No Crew. Eventually, she shrugged and walked off.
“What’s his deal?” Britton asked Therese, gesturing at Wavesign.
“Severe control issues,” she said. “Salamander says it happens sometimes. Even with the Dampener, that’s the best he can do. I feel bad for him, but he makes it worse for himself by hanging with that crowd.”
“Ted!” she called to the young Hydromancer. “Come on! You need this training more than anyone. The only way out is through. Come on and work with me.”
Wavesign first tried to ignore her, then when she called him again, looked askance at the rest of the No-No Crew, who ignored him. Finally, he shook his head and walked over.
“Therese, just stop. Leave me alone, okay?” he said.
“Ted, you keep hanging around with that crowd, and you’re never going to get a handle on this.”
“As soon as I do, they’ll just jump on me to raise the flag,” he said, deliberately pitching his voice loudly enough for the crew behind him to overhear.
“Nobody can make you do that,” she said. “Being in control of your magic is one step closer to being in control of your life. Let me help you.”
“It’s not that hard,” Britton offered. “If I can figure it out, anybody can.” He opened a gate in front of them, expanded it, shrank it, then closed it again.
Wavesign’s face set, and he looked at his feet again. Britton swore internally at his mistake. This kid had been in the SASS for God knows how long and still hadn’t mastered basic control of his magic. Britton had figured it out in a couple of hours. “I’ll help, too,” he said, trying to recover, but the damage was already done. The vapor cloud surrounding the boy intensified.
Over his shoulder, the No-No Crew whispered to one another, pointing.
Therese pointed at a small patch of wet mud. “Dry it out.”
Wavesign shrugged and gestured. The mud splattered everywhere, as if it had been kicked.
“Come on,” Therese said. “You’re not even trying. Don’t show off for their sake.”
Pyre opened his mouth to shout something, but Salamander shook his head, and the young Pyromancer kept quiet.
“Therese, this doesn’t work for me,” Wavesign said. “We’ve been through this.”
“Then let’s go through it again.
“Here, look,” she said, taking his hand. “Can you feel my current? It always starts off intense. I used to try to haul the magic back, but now I realize that all I have to do is let it go.” She let out a deep breath for emphasis. “Can you feel my current change? That’s the Dampener at work. You just let the tension go. Remember, it’s emotions you’re dealing with, so try to center yourself.”
Britton marveled at the clarity of the explanation. It was exactly how he’d been managing the magic, but he’d never put words to it before.
“I can’t,” Wavesign said. “I don’t know how to explain it…”
“Is something bugging you?” Britton asked.
Wavesign jerked to look at him, glowering in silence. “I’m just saying”—Britton patted the air with his palms—“it’s emotions that cause the problem here, so if you’ve got something on your mind, that could be the root of the issue.”
“Whatever,” Wavesign said, folding his arms and returning to the No-No Crew. “This is stupid.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Tsunami said, trotting over. “It’s nice of you, but I’ve tried with him before. He’s completely committed to throwing his lot in with those idiots. I thought, because we were both Water Sorcerers, that I could get through to him, but he’s young. He’d rather be cool than competent.”
“I don’t know about that,” Britton said, cocking an eyebrow. “Kids can go either way. He just needs a nudge in the right direction.”
Tsunami snorted. “Like Swift? That a-hole has been nudged every which way since I got here. If Wavesign’s anything like him, it’s a lost cause.” She gestured at the squeaking of a metal door.
Over Wavesign’s shoulder, Swift was already being hauled out of the pillbox. He was even paler than before, shaking. He slumped in the guards’ arms, pliant and passive. A soldier gestured back toward the group, and he nodded, offering no resistance as he made his way back toward the rest of the enrollees, his head down, meeting no one’s eyes.
Britton suddenly felt sympathy for the man, despite the injury to his cheek. “Jesus, what happened to him?” he asked Therese.
She shrugged. “Scylla’s extra creepy. You’ll see her eventually, when they exercise her around the yard. She gives me chills.”
“Who is she? Why is she in there?”
But before Therese could answer, Fitzy’s voice barked from the SASS gate, motioning Britton over. “Playtime’s over, Novice! Get your ass in gear. School starts for real now.”
Britton knew better than to argue after the drubbing Fitzy had given him that morning and headed over to him. He had already forgotten Therese’s words as his mind focused on the new challenge of dealing with Fitzy’s ire, but as he moved past the pillbox, he heard the panel in the doorway slide open.
“Such pretty doorways, Oscar Britton.” The voice that drifted through the panel was liquid amber, rich and haunting. “Oh, they are beautiful.”
Britton turned to answer, but the Suppressor guarding the door kicked it hard, then again, and finally the panel shut. For all his show of force, the man looked terrified as he turned away.
Britton had jogged the rest of the way toward Fitzy before he realized that chills had run up his spine.
Truelove and Richards met them outside the P pods, where another converted trailer bore the Shadow Coven logo of the ghosted star behind the moon.
“It was awesome!” Downer gushed, but her voice trailed off as she saw Truelove and Richards standing in silence. Britton followed their gazes to where a huge man walked, hands thrust in his pockets, shoulders hunched. His nearly shaved head sported ginger-colored hair to rival Richards’s own. His cold blue eyes took in Shadow Coven as he pushed past them, his camouflage-pattern parka not matching anything Britton had ever seen before. As the
