“No way,” Lauren said flatly. Something in her voice carried the same tone she used when she’d downplay my stats during intramural basketball. “These two?”
“What does that mean?” I asked, already annoyed. I’d ignored her in homeroom; I could do it here too.
Anna’s tone was matter-of-fact, teacherly. “It means you two shouldn’t even exist as Two-Badge mages. The badge system—our ranking—comes from the idea of chess, from the old mage houses. A Pawn Mage is someone whose power has emerged but hasn’t yet bonded to a Piece. A One-Badge mage is stable—complete harmony with one Piece. But a Two-Badge mage…” She tilted her head. “That requires two Pieces and the control to keep from tearing yourself apart. You’re both anomalies.”
“You mean like having two familiars?” April asked.
“Yes and no,” Anna said. “Familiars obey commands. Pieces choose. Servants are ancient souls—spirits of myth and history bound by will, not obedience. Long ago, each land had its spirits. What you call myth, we call bloodlines.”
“Like Zeus and the Greeks,” I said quietly.
“Exactly.” She nodded. Humans on their own are unranked—potential only. To wield a Piece safely, a mage needs to reach stable resonance, which we call One-Badge equilibrium. A Two-Badge resonance is almost unheard of. It takes extraordinary will, or reckless luck.”
April frowned. “So, Daniel—”
“Daniel,” Anna interrupted, standing now, “is One-Badge. As are Nicole and Lauren. They’ve trained for years. Lauren is my protégé. Nicole… follows in her way.”
“She’s not on my level,” Lauren said without hesitation.
“Nobody is,” Nicole added, popping her gum.
Anna ignored their rivalry and turned to April. “You, my dear, I warned Daniel about. When he told me he liked you, I feared his emotions would endanger you both. When I sensed your mark, I realized something worse. You read as Two-Badge, but your mark is only One.”
April blinked. “How’s that possible?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.” Anna smiled, though her eyes didn’t match it. “For now, you can train here. Join the Tar Heels.”
“The college team Lonnie likes?” Javier asked.
“No, dummy—like the gang at school,” Rhonda said.
“Gang? At school?” Anna raised an eyebrow at her two students.
Lauren dipped into a curtsy, eyes down. “I’m not part of it, milady.”
Nicole hesitated, then did the same. “I am, ma’am. It’s not serious. Just a dumb group named after the college team. We act tough, but it’s mostly boys playing gangster.”
“Is Daniel part of this… gang?” Anna asked.
“No, ma’am.”
Anna sighed. “Youth and their games.” Her gaze swept back to us. “The Tar Heels I meant are the mage clans—warrior protectors of each Grandmaster. My clan, my family.”
“Like chess,” I muttered, noticing movement upstairs. Daniel was coming down, his anger practically stomping beside him. April stood as he did, eyes locked on him.
“Well,” Anna continued, “since your energy level matches his, and you’ve proven control over your Piece—Oya, was it?—you and Daniel may continue seeing each other. With supervision, of course.”
“Really?” April’s joy was immediate, unguarded. I couldn’t help smiling a little. Another problem solved, for now.
But Lauren’s voice sliced through it. “Ma’am, I must protest. She’s untrained. That much power without discipline is a danger—to Daniel, to all of us. Why are you shielding her? It’s clear she’s operating at Two-Badge resonance already.”
Daniel’s voice followed, sharp as static. “How dare you.” He stepped forward, eyes on Lauren. “You don’t make decisions for me. And you lied! You told me she was weak.”
Anna met her son’s fury calmly. “Her reading is that high, but she doesn’t control it yet. Two-Badge potential without stability means risk. If her second Piece awakens before she’s ready—”
“April and I can make our own decisions,” Daniel snapped. He was already in his winter coat, black from collar to boots. He took April’s hand. “Come on.”
She hesitated, then nodded. Rhonda and Javier followed as they stepped out into the cold. I stayed, frozen in more ways than one.
Anna turned to me. “You also register as Two-Badge, Lonnie. And Oya—she’s tied to both of you.”
Oya materialized beside me, her presence heavy and silent.
“I know she’s your Piece,” Anna said, “but April’s blood from the summoning links her to Oya too. That bond feeds her power. Two mages sharing one Piece—every recorded case ends the same way. One dies.”
Her words hit like sleet. “What do you mean, one dies?”
“If you both continue this journey as you are,” she said softly, “one of you will eventually destroy the other.”
I tried to keep my voice steady. “I don’t want to continue anything. April does—for Daniel. I was hoping you could just… un-mage me.”
“Poor child.” Her expression softened. “There’s no going back. Once your soul has bonded with a Piece, you are a mage. Even if the magic is stripped, the mark remains. Next time, don’t try to hide behind fake servants.”
“Oya isn’t fake,” I said, but before I could finish, Oya’s body tensed—then she was forced into full manifestation, eyes wide in shock.
“She’s not pretending,” Anna said, studying her. “The bond is real. But April’s blood sustains her. You both are co-masters of the same Piece. That can’t last. The balance will break, and when it does, only one bond will remain.”
I clenched my fists. “Then let it be hers. I don’t care about power—I just want this ghost mode gone.”
“Your ghost mode,” Anna said thoughtfully, “is likely the side effect of that dual resonance. Did you die, by any chance?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, I didn’t die.”
Anna smiled faintly. “Then perhaps your power is astral in nature—a Checkmate ability unique to you. We’ll learn more when you both return for training.”
I turned toward the door.
Anna’s last words followed me like a cold draft.
“Remember what I said, Lonnie. Two masters cannot share the same Piece forever. One will consume the other.”
I didn’t look back. “I’m not going to kill April.”
Her reply was almost a whisper.
“Then she’s going to have to kill you.”