Caspian looked annoyed at having been called upon. He didn't bother to rise to his feet as he carelessly answered, "One creates golems and one helps us kill the fuckers?"
A handful of people around him laughed. All good-looking, all older, all clad in expensive green silk and the air of nobles' children.
Marvel rolled his eyes. He could hear the girl beside him give a huff of disdain.
Echo stepped closer to Caspian, smiling and patting his cheek tenderly. "Caspian, this startling lack of intelligence is exactly why you got your arse kicked by a maverick."
The class sniggered as Caspian went bright scarlet. Despite the sound beating Marvel received at his hands, the memory of Caspian's defeat by a maverick was still fresh on everyone's mind.
"Cato," said Echo. "Anything to add to what your friend said?"
The man she'd addressed blinked lazily at her from the seat beside Caspian. He was of the goons who had held him down two days ago when Caspian laid into him.
Cato shrugged. "Er, not really, no."
Echo's mouth twitched unhappily. "I see." She spun back to the rest of the class. "Can anyone at all tell the difference between Pure and Fusion alchemy with more astuteness than a maverick toddler?"
A few more giggles sounded. Nobody raised their hand but the boy sitting beside Marvel.
"Anyone except the teacher's pet?" she clarified.
Ned took his hand down, frowning. The girl sitting on Marvel's left gave Ned's shoulder a consoling pat behind Marvel's back.
It was obvious that she was furious now. Her dark eyes brimmed with the promise of violence. She paced down the row of seats, seeking a target for that anger.
Please, don't pick me, Marvel begged. She'd already set him up to be maimed by Caspian in five days. He didn't want to find out what else she might do.
"Maverick," she said, her sensible white robes swishing about her as she faced him. "Why don't you try?"
For Satis' sake. Ned cast Marvel a look of pity as he stood, which was appreciated. Scratching the back of his head, he tried to recall anything on the subject he'd read in Baylin's books. "Er, well, I think Pure Magic is safer and easier to use than Fusion?"
"Why?" she snapped.
Marvel was certain the answer was tucked away in his head somewhere, but with her eyes bearing the look of someone who wanted to gut him like a fish, he couldn't quite remember.
Although, that exact expression: he knew where he'd seen it before.
Adept Quinn. When the Grandmaster warlock approached him, his face looked exactly like that. Marvel gaped as the pieces clicked together. She even looks the same. What if—
"Useless," Echo ground out, and Marvel felt his chest tighten at the word. Then, he realised she was addressing the entire class. "All of you. Every single one of you. Not one of you understands the complexity, the beauty of alchemy. You're all just greedy, little power-seekers who can't be bothered to do the work."
Marvel's classmates shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
"Not a single one of you deserves to be here," she spat, and whirling on Marvel, jabbed a finger in his face. "Least of all, you. How can a maverick understand the work, the dedication, the sacrifice that it takes to get here?"
He had no idea about work and sacrifice? Him?
Her mouth curved cruelly as she regarded him. "But you won't be here in a month. However you managed to trick your way in here, you'll be kicked out anyway and it will be what you deserve."
"And what about what you deserve?" Marvel asked without thinking. "Aren't you supposed to be your Master's favourite apprentice? Yet here you are, stuck teaching a bunch of Novices. How much spare time do you have to work on your Ascendancy? Is your Master deliberately trying to sabotage you?"
Gasps burst out around the class, a few even laughing. Some of them even whooped and clapped.
Finally, someone had the guts to say exactly what was on all their minds. But also, it wouldn't be one of them being punished. Just the maverick who nobody cared about.
Marvel didn't care what they thought. The look on her face was all the satisfaction they needed.
Her jaw was tight with hurt, her eyes like twin flames of anger. He'd struck a nerve, and he didn't feel the least bit sorry about it.
"Remain standing," was all she said icily. She faced the rest of the class once more. "The difference between Pure and Fusion alchemy is 'will'. Do you little buggers know what that is?"
A sudden chill swept over the room. Marvel glanced toward one of the large windows when he heard crackling. Frost spread across the surface, and his breath puffed out in cold, visible clouds.
The air grew heavy, and his classmates exchanged frightened glances.
What in the hells was happening?
"Desire, choice, intention," said Echo. "Athar is a powerful energy source, and the difference between a practitioner of magic like an Enchanter or a Sorcerer and a mage or a warlock is that we are able to use it to do absolutely anything we can imagine."
She paused, her gaze sweeping coldly across the students.
"And that is what makes it so dangerous," she continued, moving her hands in patterned gestures. A bright blue orb began to form between her hands, and Marvel's chest filled with envy as he watched. "Warlocks take athar out of living beings using golems. All living beings have will, and so the energy they get possesses a will of its own. Can you tell me what that energy is called, maverick?"
Marvel felt the answer being forced out of him despite his attempts to remain silent. "A-akathar."
Echo nodded. The orb in front of her grew larger and larger. "Mages know what akathar does. It creates golems. Golems harvest magical energy for the warlocks. And we kill golems to harvest their magical energy. But we purify it to make kathar. Can anyone tell me how?"
No one was bold enough to speak. Even Caspian and his ilk were pale, transfixed by the growing spell in her hands.
"You take," said Echo, "away its will."
She spread her arms out, and the orb, now twice her size, burst noiselessly into little blue embers that fell harmlessly upon the class like a shower of stars.
Mesmerised by the beautiful athar fall, the class broke into excited murmurs. Faces lit with wonder, and some even tried to catch the lights.
But Marvel was watching Echo. She had the look of a hunter, satisfied that its prey had been fool enough to be snared by her trap.
"Like so," she said, snapping her fingers.
Out of the corner of his eye, Marvel saw the girl sitting next to him turn to Ned, opening her mouth to speak. And… nothing. Her words never came. She remained frozen.
Attempting to turn to see Ned's reaction, Marvel found that his neck wouldn't move. Nor would his feet, nor his hands, nor any other part of him. He, too, was paralyzed.
And he wasn't the only one.
As far as his vision could reach, every single member of the Novice class was locked in place. Still as statues, the only sign of life was the clouds of air that escaped them when they breathed.
Wonder turned to terror as they looked about wildly, unable to even cry out in their distress.
And through it all, Echo smiled. "When you take away will, athar becomes like an empty vessel, ready to fill with your own desires for what you want the magic to do. For instance: Marvel Satis, climb the window ledge."
Against his straining will, Marvel found himself treading toward the window that had been covered in frost just moments ago. Now, the frost was gone. The entire window pane was gone. Warm sunlight washed over him, undiluted by the shield of glass.
A breeze sifted through his hair as he climbed the ledge. Below him was a twenty-foot drop, and the lush green of the Academy grounds. A few curious mages stopped what they were doing to glance up at him.
Marvel understood what Echo was going to do before she spoke. His stomach dropped with dread.
"Marvel Satis," she said, her voice as silky as a spiderweb. "Walk off that ledge."