me though, then he hadn’t read the full report from the Arch-Mage. I might have been feeling intimidated by my surroundings, and by what was going to be expected of me, but I’d faced down scarier things than teachers. I straightened my back and gazed at him straight in the eye.
“So, Mackenzie Smith.”
I stayed silent and just continued to look at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Your name is Mackenzie Smith, isn’t it?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said innocently. “I hadn’t realised that you were asking me a question.” I smiled at him pleasantly. “Yes, my name is Mackenzie. But please call me Mack.”
The Dean refrained from smiling back. “There is no need to get smart with me, young lady. We don’t tolerate attitude from students.”
Young lady? Attitude? Why that jumped up little…I continued to smile. “There was no, uh, attitude, intended, Mr. Michaels.”
“Dean.”
“Huh?”
“Dean Michaels. We expect you to display appropriate humility whilst you are here. You will address me as Dean Michaels. You will address everyone else with their full titles. The trainers you will address as Mage, followed by their surname. And that same humility goes for your attitude towards the other students who are here due to their lineage and ability –neither of which I believe you possess. You will address them as Initiate followed by their first name.”
Well, I actually did have some ability. In fact, I had a pretty nifty trick with fire that I could happily show him. But I reminded myself that I was trying to be conciliatory and unthreatening, so I just gave a perfunctory nod and ignored the seething coils of fire inside me.
“I apologise, Dean Michaels.”
He didn’t appear particularly mollified, but he inclined his own head slightly and continued, shuffling more paper around. “You will start at Level One with all our other Initiates. You are expected to attend every lesson and every gathering unless told otherwise. There are certain events which are reserved for real mages only and we will not expect you to attend them.”
Or want me to attend them anyway. That was okay. I was pretty sure my ego could survive not having to pitch up to some dull-as-dishwater magic parties.
“Breakfast is served at 5.30am. Lessons begin at 6am. You will have to master all five disciplines before you can move onto Level Two studies.”
I cleared my throat.
He blinked at me and flicked a finger in my direction. “What?”
“What are the five disciplines?”
The Dean stared at me as if I had just sprouted purple horns with yellow polka dots. “You mean you don’t even…” His voice trailed off, and he rolled his eyes. “Kinesis, Divination, Protection, Evocation and Illusion.”
“Ah, I see.” I nodded sagely.
“You have no idea what any of those actually are, do you?”
“Kinesis is moving things around, I guess. Protection will be warding, I imagine, and learning how to kick the shit out of nasty things.”
The Dean winced. “Language, please.”
“Oh, sorry. Learning how to utilise one’s alchemical hocus-pocus in order to suppress and extirpate the existence of any objectionable entity that threatens either to subjugate or generally cause botheration.” I crossed my legs and leaned back again.
He didn’t look very amused. “Trying to be clever here, Miss Smith, will not help you. Neither will showing off, provocation or violence. I have been ordered by the Arch-Mage to train you, and train you is what I shall do.” He stood up, towering over both me and the desk. “But that does not mean that you are to be anything other than tolerated. You are not a mage and you will never be a mage. You are a thug that we have had foisted upon us. I expect you to be seen and not heard, and to not bother me in this room again until it is such time for you to leave. You will not bring shame and disrepute upon our institution. The oath-taking ceremony begins at dawn tomorrow, after which point you are bound by our laws. Break them and suffer the consequences.”
He lowered himself slowly back to his seat, and looked down at his desk, picking up a squat pen. “You may go now.”
I stayed in my chair for one slightly stunned moment, before gritting my teeth and standing up. I opened my mouth to say something back to the stupid old fool, then thought better of it, and turned back to the door, curling my fingernails into the palms of my hands. I told myself that there was little else that I could