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Discern (Mosaic Chronicles Book 1)
Discern (Mosaic Chronicles Book 1) Read online
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Books by Andrea Pearson
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Discern
Mosaic Chronicles Book One
Andrea Pearson
Copyright © 2014 Andrea Pearson
Book design and layout copyright © 2014 Andrea Pearson
Cover copyright © 2014 Andrea Pearson, Pearson Photography, and James E. Curwen
Series by Andrea Pearson:
Kilenya
Kilenya Romances
Kilenya Adventures
Mosaic Chronicles
Ranch City Academy
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are represented fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Summary: Nicole Williams is an Arete—a fourth child with magical abilities—yet no matter how hard she tries, she can’t Channel her power. In fact, she seems to be the only student at Katon University who fails at magic.
That doesn’t stop magic from finding her. It starts with possessed books and cursed spiders before moving quickly to freaky shadows and magical currents. Nicole turns to her best friend for help, along with fellow student Austin Young, who is considered by all a magical rarity. He also happens to be the hottest guy on campus and just might be interested in her.
Nicole soon finds herself competing to be included on a university-led expedition to Arches National Park. She is determined to show everyone, but mostly herself, that she does belong. Yet, to qualify for the trip, she must produce at least a speck of Wind magic, and that appears to be impossible.
As the competition progresses, Nicole wonders if she’s making the right choice—especially when she learns that the strange fossils they’ll be studying in Arches might not be as dead as everyone thinks.
http://katonuniversity.blogspot.com/
Dedication
To
Sarah Kammer
For your support and friendship
And
James Curwen
For your help and encouragement
Chapter One
Nicole pulled her car into the parking spot and rested her shaking hands on the wheel. How had this day crept up on her so quickly?
She lowered her forehead to her hands and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply for several moments before grabbing her marked-up map of campus from the seat next to her and studying the notes she’d made the night before. Nicole wanted to be absolutely certain she knew where to go. Asking for directions—looking like she wasn’t already used to being on campus, like she really was a freshman—would destroy the confidence she was trying to build inside.
If only Katon University were a normal college. That she could handle. But Katon was an Arete university. This was a completely different arena—a magical one. Instead of only studying the basics of English, math, and history, Nicole and the other students would be learning how to control the elements using their Arete powers.
Nicole’s cell phone rang from deep inside her purse, and she dug past pens, her wallet, gum, ChapStick, and a bunch of small notepads to get it.
“Hey, Lizzie,” Nicole said, tucking her blond hair out of the way of the phone.
“Where are you? You told me you wanted to be here early.” Lizzie dropped her voice to a whisper. “There’s a lot of eye candy in class already. You should hurry.”
Nicole smiled. “I’m coming. Just parked.”
“Good.”
They ended the conversation, and Nicole shoved her phone inside her purse before getting out of her car. She zipped up the hoodie which Seattle’s humid, chilly weather demanded. Chilly in August. She shook her head. Texas was not chilly in August.
The walk to class would’ve probably felt short if not for Katon University’s buildings. They loomed over her, dark blots against a cloudy sky. Some of them had so many water stains, it was nearly impossible to tell the original color of their bricks. Gargoyles perched along the edges of the roofs, and more than once, Nicole felt as if she was being watched.
She shivered in her hoodie and hugged her purse to her chest, then forced herself to stop looking up.
A bell rang somewhere, and students began pouring out of the buildings. It didn’t take long for her to notice them noticing her. Nearly all of the students made eye contact—some even outright stared. Was her mascara streaking from the rain? Could they tell she was a freshman?
She wanted to yell at them to stop staring. Instead, she began jogging, taking a shortcut across a patch of grass, but slipped and almost fell. Curse the rain! And curse the gross, slimy, disgusting moss that grew everywhere, even in the grass!
Twelve minutes after leaving her car, she entered her very first college class—math. She’d tried everything not to have it scheduled first, but with no luck. Nicole sank into the seat next to Lizzie, grateful to be alive still, though feeling silly for the exaggerated emotion.
Lizzie’s red curls bounced as she spoke animatedly to the brunette sitting to her left.
She finally noticed Nicole and spun. “You’re here!” Lizzie grabbed Nicole’s arm, her face serious. “Figured anything out yet?”
“It’s only been an hour and a half since I last saw you. Of course I haven’t.”
Lizzie frowned. “Man, I’m sorry. I expected being here would trigger it.”
“I know. Everyone stared at me on the way to class. I’m positive I’m the only Arete on campus who hasn’t found a focus and can’t Channel.” Most people found their focus—the object or action that helped them control magic—within days or weeks of Restarting.
Lizzie shook her head. “No, you’re not. The chick I’ve been talking to hasn’t even Restarted yet and she didn’t know about Channeling.”
Nicole’s shoulders fell. “That hardly counts—my Restart happened months ago! And I’m no closer now than when it happened.”
Lizzie patted her arm sympathetically.
Nicole shrugged and turned her attention to the professor who’d just entered the room. He didn’t introduce himself, didn’t make eye contact with any of the students, and started going over the course objectives immediately, without waiting for anyone to figure out where he was beginning.
Nicole’s thoughts quickly left the classroom at the sound of his monotonous voice. She glanced at the brunette sitting by Lizzie, her heart swelling with pity for the girl.
Restarting late was painful—Nicole would know. She’d been late by two months and it had been awful, especially since the high school she and Lizzie attended only had one other Arete. Both he and Lizzie Restarted close to their
eighteenth birthdays, and everyone else had watched Nicole constantly, waiting for her to do or say something that showed she sensed and controlled magic. But Nicole seemed destined to be slow with everything magical in her life. And after several weeks passed with no sign of Restarting, some people questioned whether she really was a fourth child.
Then it finally came. Nicole blushed, pushing that memory away. It still embarrassed her to think of it.
The teacher droned on. Nicole looked at the syllabus on her phone and sighed, leaning back in her seat. This particular math class would probably be boring. As much as she disliked math, she’d always been a good student and was ahead of the material already. Maybe they’d let her test out of the required class.
After the teacher’s long review of the order of operations, the bell finally rang and Lizzie checked her phone, tucked it into her backpack, and stood. “I can’t wait—we’ve got Magical Items throughout History next.”
“I know. I read up on the professor this morning. He’s supposed to be really good, and the student reviews on him were almost all positive.”
Lizzie mock-glared at Nicole. “That’s what you were doing instead of helping me kill spiders?”
Nicole grinned. “Sorry. I’ll join you next time.”
“There might not be a next time,” Lizzie said, leading the way out of the room. “I’ll probably end up dead, like pretty much everyone else who’s lived in our building.”
Nicole grabbed her shoulder. “You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re kidding.”
Lizzie only paused for a moment. “Well, kind of.” She started walking again. “There have been deaths, but not for a while.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lizzie shrugged. “It gives the place character.”
“No, it gives the place a bad feeling. No wonder I get the creeps every time I go in it.”
“The spiders give you the creeps, not the apartment.”
“Who died? And how long ago?”
“The last one was a man. A Jake Smith or something. It’s been a couple years.”
Nicole glanced at Lizzie. “How did he die?”
“Don’t know—they found him in his apartment. No bullet wounds or anything like that. It didn’t look like murder and I didn’t finish reading the article.”
Nicole rolled her eyes at Lizzie’s casual attitude. People dying was a big deal.
They walked in silence for a moment, exiting the building. Nicole’s thoughts returned to the brunette Lizzie had been sitting next to, and again, feelings of empathy filled her heart. The poor girl. It wasn’t until Nicole Restarted that people stopped questioning whether or not she was an Arete. And though she’d been able to hide the fact that she had no idea what focus she’d need to use to Channel while in high school, she realized that college was a completely different scenario.
Channeling didn’t start at the same time for everyone. But why did she have to be the one who struggled? It was so embarrassing. At least Mother and Dad didn’t really care. Or, if they did, they didn’t show it. But neither of them was an Arete, so it wasn’t terribly important to them. Mother was the first child in her family, and Dad the second in his.
Nicole took a deep breath of humid air and pulled her hoodie closer around her. “How long ago was that girl’s birthday?”
“It’s been a week.” Lizzie dug out a bottle of juice from her purse and offered some to Nicole.
Nicole shook her head, and Lizzie took a drink.
“For her sake,” Nicole said, “I hope she doesn’t Restart the way I did.”
Lizzie choked on her juice, then wiped her mouth, laughing. “You mean, throwing up in class in front of your brand-new boyfriend and passing out in your own puke? Yeah, I hope she doesn’t have to experience that.”
“I’ll never forget the expression on his face when I came to.”
“Complete disgust.”
“Shortest relationship I’ve ever been in.”
The girls chuckled. Nicole relished the feeling—it had taken a long time for her to find humor in the experience.
She put her hands in her back pockets, purse strap over one shoulder. “At least I knew what was going on.” And she had—she’d stayed up late one night, reading about what happened when an Arete’s magic manifested itself. The Arete body could only handle so much sensory overload—passing out was the natural way to adjust to the change. That moment was called Restarting. And it was never fun.
Of course, throwing up didn’t usually happen. Nicole was just lucky that way.
“The idiot thought I was a freak.” She sighed. “I’m sure puking didn’t help.”
“He also knew that most Aretes are only unconscious for five minutes. You were gone for ten.” Lizzie flicked her eyes to Nicole. “Do you still think that being unconscious that long is connected to what’s keeping you from finding your focus?”
Nicole shrugged. She hadn’t talked to Lizzie about her feelings for a few months now. She and her parents had vacationed in Europe during the summer, while Lizzie had stayed in Texas. They’d tried to keep in contact through calls and email, but it started getting really expensive, and Nicole didn’t usually have Internet or cell coverage while she and her parents were out hiking and sightseeing.
The girls arrived at the building for their next class and entered the double doors, making their way to the correct room. It was a small auditorium with enough seating for fifty people. They sat on the second row and watched as a man with dark hair and thick, bushy eyebrows entered the room, carrying a box. The classroom got quiet as everyone realized this was their teacher.
Nicole knew his name was Professor Coolidge, that he was a world-renowned specialist in magical items. He spent half his time teaching at Katon University and the other half traveling, doing whatever things important people did. He was supposed to be one of the most powerful Aretes in the world.
Coolidge set the box under the desk, grabbed a dry-erase marker, and wrote his name on the board. His handwriting was big, bold. He used all uppercase letters. While he was writing, the students started talking again, and several more shuffled inside. Coolidge sat on his desk and waited for everyone to settle in.
“Welcome to your first Arete course. You’ll find my bio online, if you’re interested.” He folded his arms. “Things at Katon University are changing this year. It seems too many students are focusing so much on their ‘excellence in magic’ goals that they’re getting horrible grades in the very basic classes of math, science, history, and English.
“Completely unacceptable,” he said. “All Arete classes you’ve signed up for this semester, you’ll be allowed to keep. But if you receive a C- in any class, you won’t be eligible for any Arete classes come winter semester. And from there on out, if you don’t maintain satisfactory grades in your core classes, you’ll be automatically dropped from all Arete courses.”
Lizzie’s mouth popped open. “That’s so not fair.”
Nicole didn’t respond. She’d definitely have to work hard if she wanted to enjoy the same grades here as she had in high school.
Professor Coolidge waited for the buzz of whispering to die down, then grabbed the cardboard box from under the desk.
“Here, we’ll be focusing on the history and use of magically charged items.” He set the box on top of the desk and looked out over his students. “Since it’s a freshman course, the following question will be relevant. How many of you have had your Arete powers manifest already?”
Nicole couldn’t see anyone whose hand didn’t go up.
Coolidge sat on the desk next to the box. “How many of you had your powers manifest before eighteen?”
Around two-thirds of the class raised their hands, including Lizzie. Apparently, that one day before her birthday really meant a lot to her.
“Six months early?” He watched as about ten students raised their hands.
Professor Coolidge paused. “I need two students to help with a demonstration, so kee
p your hands up.” He pointed to a girl with really dark hair—obviously an Earth Arete. Then he inspected the others. “You,” he said, pointing to a guy, also dark-headed.
“Why didn’t he pick someone with a different hair color?” Lizzie asked. Her eyes widened as she stared at the guy. “Wowzers, he’s hot.”
Nicole couldn’t help but stare too. The guy had a five o’clock shadow, emphasizing his strong jawline. He held his broad shoulders back and walked with a confidence she’d never seen in high school. His eyes were as dark as his hair and they glanced across the students, landing on her for more than a second before moving to the board, where they stayed.
Nicole felt her cheeks flush at his attention and hoped no one noticed, especially Lizzie.
“Definitely up your alley,” Lizzie whispered.
Nicole hushed her, wanting to see why Coolidge needed volunteers, but she blushed even more at what Lizzie had said. Would a guy like that really go for her?
“What’s your name?” Professor Coolidge asked the girl.
She sniffed, flipped her hair back, and folded her arms. “Judith Ann Jackson.”
She said it so quietly, Nicole wondered about her body language. She acted stuck-up and pretentious. Usually, people like that were loud-spoken.
Professor Coolidge waved to the guy. “And you?”
“Austin.” His eyes didn’t leave the board.
Coolidge got off the desk. “Time for a demonstration. Both of you, out in the hall. Judith, I’ll have—”
“It’s Judith Ann.”
Coolidge looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. “Fine. Judith Ann. I’ll have you come in first. Both of you, please leave the classroom.”
As soon as the door shut behind them, Professor Coolidge started pulling objects out of the box and setting them on the desktop.
Several students got to their feet, wanting to see. Nicole and Lizzie were close enough that they didn’t have to stand, but they leaned forward.