Discern (Mosaic Chronicles Book 1) Page 2

  The items didn’t appear to be anything special at first. A cup. A mousetrap. A necklace. Two skeleton keys. A fraying green beanie that looked like it was someone’s first crochet project. Then Coolidge pulled out a leather book. A slight glow around it caught Nicole’s eye, and she stared at it. It was definitely powerful—even she could sense its magic.

  Suddenly, an intense feeling nearly overcame her. She wanted to jump over the row of chairs in front of her and steal the book from the professor. To protect it from him. She shook herself, pushing the desire away. What was wrong with her?

  Coolidge fingered the leather cover for a moment and glanced at Nicole. Her cheeks burned and she dropped her eyes to her purse in her lap. Why was he looking at her? Could he sense her feelings? Impossible—no Arete could read minds or emotions.

  Coolidge dropped the book on the desk, and Nicole looked up in time to see him motion to a girl near the doors.

  “Have Judith Ann come in, please,” he said.

  The girl did so, and Judith Ann strode inside. Coolidge waited for the doors to shut behind her before speaking.

  “Arrange these objects according to their magical strength or importance.”

  Judith Ann nodded, tucked a strand of dark hair behind an ear, and approached the desk. She started by waving her hands over the items one at a time, then picking them up and inspecting them. She turned the beanie inside out and righted it. She played with the cup and held the mousetrap for several seconds, an intense expression on her face. A minute passed. Two minutes. Five. She arranged the items, then rearranged them.

  Students began to whisper, probably growing bored. But a look from Coolidge silenced them.

  Finally, Judith Ann turned around, resting her hands on the desk behind her. “That was hard. Too hard. Should you really be testing freshmen like this?”

  She seemed oblivious to everyone watching her. Professor Coolidge raised a bushy eyebrow. “It’s my class.”

  He approached the desk and looked at what she’d done. He turned. “This was a good attempt, but incorrect. And that’s fine. No student gets it right the first try. When did your Arete powers manifest?”

  She smiled. “Four months after my seventeenth birthday.” Her expression left no doubt in Nicole’s mind—the girl was very impressed with herself for her early accomplishment, even though she had absolutely no control over when it happened. No one did.

  Coolidge didn’t seem very impressed, though. “Have you found your focus for Channeling?”

  “Yes. Play-Doh.”

  Lizzie snickered. “Like a kid.”

  Nicole didn’t respond but definitely agreed with Lizzie. What an embarrassing focus.

  Coolidge put the objects in a pile and glanced at Judith Ann. “Go ahead and return to your seat. Let Austin in on your way.”

  Once Austin had entered the room, Coolidge gave him the instructions and sat back to watch.

  The first thing Austin did was toss the mousetrap on the floor.

  Then he spent less than ten seconds—literally, less than ten—putting the objects in order. He didn’t inspect them, hold them, or stare at them. He simply put them where he thought they should go.

  When he finished, he returned to his seat and pulled out his phone.

  Coolidge stared at the items, an expression of disbelief on his face. He cleared his throat. “Austin . . . you are completely correct. The mousetrap is ordinary—not magical.” He listed the order Austin had placed everything else in. “Cup, necklace, beanie, book . . . and this is definitely a first.” He stepped away from the desk and motioned to it. “Students, see what he’s done with the Keys of Kilenya and Ayunli?”

  Nicole stared, still on the edge of her seat. Austin had put one key above the other.

  Professor Coolidge looked at Austin. “Why did you do this, when you placed the others left to right?”

  Austin didn’t look up. “Because the keys are the exact same in magical powers. Neither is better than the other.”

  Coolidge raised his eyebrows. “That is correct.” He folded his arms, examining Austin, who still didn’t look up. “You’re the first student to sense this. Not even I can tell that they’re exactly the same, and I’m the foremost authority on magical items in the country. My knowledge of their history is how I know they’re the same in power.” He looked at the objects and back to Austin. “When did your magical powers manifest themselves?”

  “Two months before my sixteenth birthday.”

  Murmurs flowed through the auditorium and Coolidge dropped his arms, looking just as shocked as everyone seemed to feel.

  Lizzie glanced at Nicole. “Any chance he’s lying?”

  Nicole shrugged. How could she know?

  Professor Coolidge didn’t say anything for several seconds, then whispered, “That’s nearly unheard of.”

  “But not completely so,” Austin said.

  “And how long did it take to find your focus?”

  “I’ve never needed one.”

  This time there were audible gasps. Nicole and Lizzie looked at each other again.

  “Is that possible?” Lizzie asked.

  “It must be,” Nicole said, though she couldn’t fathom not having a way to Channel. How did he grasp the magic that flowed around them? The slight pulsings that she’d grown accustomed to but which had always avoided her control?

  Coolidge’s face was straight as he studied Austin. “Any family history of Aretes?”

  Austin hesitated before responding. “My parents. And before you ask, yes, they were also fifteen when they Restarted. And no, neither of them used a focus.”

  “A fourth child born to parents who are also Fourths? Rare, very rare.”

  Austin glowered. Nicole knew that Aretes frequently married each other, but even they almost never had three, let alone four children.

  “What’s he so angry about?” Lizzie asked.

  “I don’t think he likes the attention,” Nicole said.

  “So why’d he go along with the test thing?”

  Nicole shrugged. “Coolidge didn’t give him much of a choice, did he?”

  Professor Coolidge finally turned to the rest of the students. “Well, this object lesson leads us to the point of class today.”

  Nicole looked at the clock on the wall. Because class had started late, there were only fifteen minutes left.

  “For a large portion of the semester, I’ll be using a substitute.” He paused when everyone started talking and waited for silence to return.

  Nicole leaned back in her seat and folded her arms, waiting for more.

  “Have any of you heard the recent news of an expedition that will be taking place to Arches National Park in Moab, Utah?” Professor Coolidge asked.

  Some people nodded, but most shook their heads. Nicole hadn’t heard anything of it.

  “Magical pulsings have been sensed repeatedly by Aretes as they’ve hiked around some of the arches, and for several hundred years, people have gone missing while living or camping there. We’ve finally received permission from the government to head up an exploration party to figure out what has been going on.”

  Nicole leaned forward. This sounded interesting.

  “Naturally, I’ve been asked to take charge of the magical items on the expedition. They believe something is buried in the sand and rock there, and I’m determined to find out what. I’ve invited a colleague from Armitage University to accompany me.”

  Several boos and hisses sounded through the auditorium. Nicole smiled—being from Texas, she had nothing against the Arete university there, but she understood the competition.

  Coolidge continued. “The expedition team will be gone the last half of September through the end of November.”

  Nicole blinked. That was a long time to have a substitute.

  “I’m bringing several of my upper-grad students, but have decided to open the opportunity to three undergrads who will compete to be a part of the group.”

  Nicole grinned
. Mystery? Competition? Sounded like her kind of thing.

  “Those who are interested will be required to perform four tasks similar to this one. The tasks won’t be a part of your grade, so don’t allow them to force you behind in your studies. Because those who do pass will need to drop their classes this semester, the university is considering the expedition as an internship.”

  He pointed to Austin. “I expect you to be one of the students who competes.”

  Austin nodded as if he’d known all along that Coolidge would ask him. Nicole wanted to wipe the smug expression off his face. Or kiss it off. Either worked for her.

  “If you’re interested,” Professor Coolidge said, “I’ll be having a meeting here on Thursday at four thirty in the afternoon. We’ll go over the particulars of the tasks then.” He started putting the objects back in the box. “Your assignments this semester involve . . .”

  Nicole didn’t pay attention to anything else, knowing she could look it up online later. Her breath caught in her throat as she considered competing to go on the expedition. Her pulse started racing. A competition of skills.

  Should she do it? She’d never resisted a challenge before. And oh, how she yearned to prove herself. To be powerful. To show that she had talent, even though she had yet to unlock it.

  She slumped in her chair. Why couldn’t she figure out her focus? Was something wrong with her? Something she’d missed in conversations with Lizzie, who knew so much more about being an Arete?

  Nicole had been completely unable to produce one wisp of wind while Lizzie had already created fire. Even though it was only a spark, it was magic, and Lizzie had Channeled it.

  Nicole’s eyes wandered to Austin at the end of her row, studying his phone. His dark hair and tan complexion looked great against the light blue shirt he wore.

  How would it be never to use a focus? To be free of all crutches? And how would he have known he didn’t need one? Oh, yes—through his parents. With both of them being Aretes, he would know a lot about this world. In Nicole’s experience, most non-magical people were intimidated by and even fearful of practicing Aretes and didn’t speak of their world much. It drove her nuts that her own parents fell into this category.

  She realized she was still staring at Austin and looked away, flushing. Had he noticed? She sneaked a glance at him, but he was still absorbed in his phone. Nicole bit her lip as a thought occurred to her. Maybe . . . maybe she didn’t need a focus. Maybe Austin knew of a way to encourage things to move forward without one. He probably would, given his experience. Maybe he’d be willing to help her.

  She had to talk to him.

  The bell rang and Coolidge dismissed class. Nicole jumped to her feet, snatching up her things.

  “What’s the hurry?” Lizzie asked.

  “I’m going to talk to Austin. Come on.” She hiked her purse over her shoulder.

  Lizzie grinned. “Yeah, I figured you’d think he was hot.”

  “It’s not that—I want to know how he did it.”

  “Nicole . . .” Lizzie said, eyebrows knitted.

  Nicole didn’t wait to hear Lizzie’s complaint. She rushed through the throng of students as people flowed in and out of the auditorium. Where had he gone? She looked both ways, trying to see through the crowds. Finally, she spotted the back of his dark head to the right.

  Nicole dashed that way, not questioning her decision. She had never been shy or had problems getting people to open up to her, to want to help her when she needed assistance. This wouldn’t be any different—she was sure of that. And perhaps, after he helped her learn to Channel without a focus, they could get ready for the four tests together. She smiled, thinking about study sessions and time alone with him.

  Okay, so maybe it was fine to be a little boy crazy. Lizzie couldn’t have all the fun.

  She caught up with him and casually matched his stroll. “Hi, I’m Nicole. I just wanted to tell you that was pretty cool—what you did back there.”

  He glanced at her and grunted.

  She put her hand on his arm, stopping him. He froze beneath her touch and turned toward her, looking somewhere above her head. His dark expression was intimidating, even though it wasn’t directed at her. Was he mad? She pulled her hand back. “Um . . . I . . .” Out with it, Nicole. “How did you learn to Channel without a focus?”

  Austin didn’t answer at first. He didn’t even look at her. “Figure it out yourself and stop harassing people you don’t know.”

  He glanced at her briefly, a deep scowl on his face, eyes angry and bitter. “And no, I’m not going to help you.” He spun and strode into the classroom next to them.

  Nicole’s mouth popped open. She stared at him until he disappeared behind closing doors. What a . . . a presumptuous jerk! She hadn’t even asked him to help her! It didn’t matter that she’d planned to—his assumption was rude and . . . “Argh!”

  Lizzie caught up with her. “Um, so, even from down the hall, I could tell that didn’t go well.”

  “No, it did not! He totally assumed everything. And Lizzie, he was so angry. I have no idea what I did to make him act that way. The . . . the jerk.”

  She glared at the doors, ignoring people as they pushed past on either side. “I can’t believe it! Oh!” She yanked her bag higher up on her shoulder. “That’s it. Now I have to make the expedition.”

  “Oh, no. Please, Nicole, no.” Lizzie put her hand on Nicole’s elbow. “You can’t do that to yourself. It’s your first semester of college and you haven’t learned how to Channel and you’ve got too much on your plate already! Weren’t you going to try out for that symphony orchestra thing? Isn’t the cello enough? And besides, I don’t want to spend my freshmen year watching you get into another battle of skills! Especially when the expedition is something you’ve never done before!”

  Nicole glared at Lizzie. “With or without your support, I have to do this.” She fumbled around in her purse, glad that most everyone had cleared from the halls, and pulled out her phone. “Where to next?” She was too flustered to remember.

  “Arete history,” Lizzie said. She pointed at the door Austin had just stormed through.

  “Great. Just great.”

  Nicole breathed deeply for a couple of seconds, put on some lip gloss, and fingered through her blond hair, making sure it wasn’t a mess.

  Then she squared her shoulders and entered the classroom.

  Chapter Two

  Nicole felt Austin’s eyes on her as she strode into the room with Lizzie trailing her. She plopped into a seat several rows behind him and forced herself to smile and look cheerful.

  As soon as she saw the image projected on the screen in front of the class, she forgot about Austin. It was of a mouse-brown haired woman surrounded by cats. Her hair was snarly and very unkempt.

  “There are seventeen cats in that picture.” Lizzie turned to Nicole. “How can you possibly own seventeen cats?”

  Nicole smiled. “Easy, if they’re not all alive.” She dropped her voice to a whisper when the teacher—the same woman from the picture—got to her feet. “Those are cats she’s probably owned over the years. It’s obviously been pieced together.”

  Lizzie shook her head. “Seventeen cats in one lifetime is still a lot. Didn’t your cat live for fifteen years?”

  Nicole nodded, turning her attention to the front of the room.

  “My name is Professor Whitman. I’ll be helping you understand the complexities of Arete history.” She stared at each student one at a time, and a long, uncomfortable silence permeated the room. “Don’t expect me to learn your names by the end of the semester—or ever at all. I have far too many things to accomplish right now to worry about something so . . . trivial.” She turned away and shuffled through a huge mess of papers on the desk. “You’ll find a copy of your course objectives under your chairs. Pull it out.”

  Nicole bent and retrieved the purple paper. She was surprised to see flowers printed along the edge. She glanced up at Whitman. The w
oman had finished shuffling and was waiting with her arms folded. Nicole looked back at the flowers. They did not match Whitman’s personality. And besides, how common was it for college professors to actually print out the syllabus?

  “My goal isn’t to make your life difficult—that’s Professor Coolidge’s aim.” She paused as if waiting for people to laugh. No one did, and her eyes narrowed. She continued. “The only thing that will be required of you is to get a good grade and do the readings. We’ll have a quiz every time we meet to make sure you’re fulfilling your end of the bargain.”

  Professor Whitman retreated behind the desk and started going through her papers again.

  Lizzie scoffed. “Bargain? What bargain?”

  Nicole didn’t respond. She was staring at the required reading. “Take a look at this. She says she doesn’t want to make things hard for us, but having a quiz on the reading every day is going to be horrible. The sections are fifty pages long.”

  “Are you serious?” Lizzie’s face went white. “There’s no way I’ll be able to keep up. I’m already panicking over math.”

  Nicole nodded. With the reading for this class, work for her other courses, and tests for the expedition, this would definitely not be a great start to the year.

  “Your attention, students,” Professor Whitman said. Once everyone had quieted, she pointed to the presentation projected above her. “For today, I’ll give you a brief history of Aretes. We’ll be going more in-depth throughout the rest of the semester, but I wanted you to have a taste of what we’ll be learning.”

  Several students rolled their eyes, but Nicole got ready to take notes. She didn’t care if this stuff bored the others—her parents didn’t like talking about these things. Of course, the information was all available online, but courtesy of her parents’ dismissive attitude, she’d never been curious until close to her eighteenth birthday. By then, she was too busy with her senior year, applying for Katon University, and moving to Seattle to do much research.

  The professor began going through slides in her presentation. “It was the Greeks who first started calling our kind Aretes. The word means ‘excellence in everything.’ It helps encourage us to live to our fullest potential. You can learn more about the history of the word by studying your book.