Demon Accords 8: College Arcane by John Conroe

making the pterodactyl fly at double D, who had reached the
top of the candle and stood, arms raised, like he had conquered
Everest.
     
    “You’re from Ireland, Mr. O’Carroll?” Miss
Berg asked from the left side of the circle. By now, it looked as
if the entire class was watching the little drama on the
candle.
     
    “My mom and aunt are... were. I was born
here. Anyway, that’s it. Just a kid’s game. Kind of dorky. I even
called it Wytchwar, with a Y instead of an I. Always wanted another
couple of kids to play it or against or something,” I said,
standing up. The candle snuffed out at my thought, the flyer
flapping valiantly for a second before running out of gases. Double
D did a back flip off the candle into my hand, gave the crowd a
little salute, and then collapsed back into a pile of dirt.
     
    The faces around me looked disappointed at
his disappearance.
     
    “Well, I must say, they taught you an
excellent way to build your skills. You handle your Craft well,
especially for a warlock,” Miss Berg said. “ And this exercise uses
very little power, so again, it must have been perfect for a
fledgling warlock.”
     
    I looked at her in disbelief but she was
still looking down at the candle, lost in thought. I glanced over
at Ryanne, who rolled her eyes at the teacher before flashing a
broad smile. I wondered what Miss Berg would have thought of the
seven-foot-tall dirt dude I made at age ten. It weighed in at close
to five hundred pounds and could carry multiple times its weight in
logs. Aunt Ash pitched a fit when she found me using it like a
garden tractor to help with my firewood chores. Little power, my
ass.
     
    “We should play Wytchwar here. As a group.
You know, have competitions and shit,” T.J. said.
     
    “That would be so cool,” another kid
agreed.
     
    “But we’re not all witches and there’s only,
like, two earth witches?” Ashley protested.
     
    “But there’s so much more to do than just
drive the dirt people or fire people or what have you. Declan
basically made a robot dragon out of dirt and wire. He could make
more. I could make all kinds of electronic robots. Then there need
to be people to build and change the course, people to plan tactics
or pass information. Remote flyers could look for traps for their
teams to avoid, the telepaths could referee the game to make sure
there isn’t any cheating. Like that,” T.J. answered, getting more
excited.
     
    Other kids joined in, the idea flaring around
the room like a fire. Miss Berg cleared her throat.
     
    “That’s an excellent idea, T.J. I will ask
Director Velasquez if we can use some of the empty space in this
building for a game field. But before we can have a game, we have
to define it, its rules, and have an order of play. So, your
homework has just changed. You will each submit to me by, say, six
PM tomorrow, an email with your ideas for the game. Make them as
detailed as possible and like T.J. suggested, describe as many
roles as possible. I will then attempt to put them together into
some semblance of order for our next class on Wednesday so we can
finalize the game structure. Your other assignment is to practice
any new skill you picked up from your classmates tonight. That’s
it. Class dismissed,” Miss Berg said, turning and heading for her
notes on the speakers podium.
     
    I stood for a moment, a bit bewildered at
what had just happened. Then I felt a shove on the shoulder, just a
light one.
     
    “Way ta go, ya bogger. Now we gotta play
sports,” Ryanne said with a mock glare. The other witches and much
of the class were still around us.
     
    “I, ah, don’t know what just happened,” I
said.
     
    “I’m just codding ya on. It’ll be the craic,”
Ryanne said, laughing at me.
     
    “I don’t know, Ryanne, maybe for the earth
and fire types, but how about the air and water witches?” Britta
asked, arms still crossed. “No double D’s for us,” she said
archly.
     
    “Not how I see it,” T.J.