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Anthony Greerson’s use of magic is… economical in movement, expansive in execution. Like he tells his students, wand-waving and incantations have their uses, but he has always found it more efficient to simply look at the universe and ask it nicely to rearrange itself to his expectations. Of course, he can do other magic, and he demonstrates it for his classes. He’s not a one trick pony, here. And sometimes, he needs a boost.
Today, he needs a boost.
Anthony keeps numb fingers wrapped tightly around the staff and does not stop casting. He and Madeline maintain the strongest barriers they know how to make while the other instructors evacuate the students and artifacts of the Academy. He doesn’t know where the Lady is, if she’s even still in her Tower. He can’t focus on that.
Not with the fire in the sky raining down on them.
Anthony doesn’t know how master thief Evelyn Waite got a dragon on her side, much less one willing to attack the Unseen World’s bastion of knowledge. The Academy has nothing that dragons tend to want- they have their own brand of magic, and the Headmaster only occasionally meets the Lady Sarkana to ensure that the history depicted via Academy classes is accurate for the portions including dragons.
The Headmaster is calling Lady Sarkana now, to find out how they have wronged her, if at all, and to beg assistance. Their deputy headmaster was meant to call Black Star; Anthony doesn’t know if he managed that before Evelyn cut him in two.
Evelyn stands just outside the barrier now, inches away from Anthony, smiling. “How long do you think you can last against a dragon’s rage?” she inquires. “You and L’Enver are strong, but there’s no way you’re enough, and I, personally, can’t wait to see you swallowed whole.”
Anthony could ask why she’s doing this. He’s almost certain he could do that, hold his portion of the barrier, and rip out her lungs at the same time. But ‘almost’ isn’t good enough, not when his students aren’t out of danger, not when the Alexandria isn’t safely hidden away again. They cannot lose the library, not again. So he keeps casting, focusing on the barrier and his job .
Sweat drips into his eyes. He tastes iron in the back of his throat. Evelyn grins, delighted, when blood starts dripping from Anthony’s nose. “Do you feel that, Greerson? That’s you hitting the end of your limits. Which will give out first? Your will or your life?”
Anthony sighs. “I really hope,” he says, finally, blood spilling over his chin, “That you didn’t think I had these tattoos just for the aesthetic, Miss Waite.”
Evelyn Waite watches in shock as the blue tattoos on Anthony’s arms - and chest, and back - begin to glow. Anthony has been saving a portion of his magic in the seals every day for the last twenty years. To date, he’s only had to reach into these reserves once. Anthony starts feeding the magic into the barrier slowly and with care. He can’t afford to blow them all up.
“That’s not fair !” Evelyn screeches.
The Academy buildings glow faintly as Madeline activates the reserves that all the staff store in the Academy for just this situation. She must have felt Anthony’s use of his personal reserves and acted accordingly. Madeline is good that way and has greater reserves, and so must be prepared for Anthony to fall out. It’s only prudent, after all. It’s part of their disaster plan.
Anthony loses track of time. He keeps casting, keeps siphoning his reserves into the barrier. Evelyn has become furious, adding her own barrage of magic to augment the utterly furious dragon. He doesn’t have the bandwidth to wonder why any of this is happening, not anymore.
And then. And then.
Anthony has never met Lady Sarkana. But this can only be her, an immensely fierce dragon whose quietly hissed, “ Desist ,” has the other dragon backing off immediately, dropping from the sky and baring its neck to the Lady. Turning, Lady Sarkana regards Evelyn Waite.
And swallows her whole.
Anthony maintains the shield. At this point, his staff is the only thing holding him up, but he can’t drop the shield. Not yet. Lady Sarkana looks at him with one golden eye. “My kin was told that one of yours had destroyed her clutch,” she informs Anthony. “They will make appropriate reparations. I advise you to lower your shield before it takes your life.”
As terrifying as the head of the dragon community is, Anthony doesn’t answer to her. His life doesn’t matter, not when his students, this school, and his fellow instructors are at stake. Anthony licks his lips, chokes on the taste of blood, and resumes casting-
Strong hands wrap around Anthony’s, arms bracketing his. “We’re safe,” the Headmaster says above his head. “You can stop.”
Anthony trusts the Headmaster a hell of a lot more than a dragon he’s never met, but still. “The students,” he croaks out. “Madeline. The Lady.”
“All accounted for, all safe. Will you release the barrier?” Asking instead of just making Anthony release the barrier, because at this point, Anthony could accidentally blow the barrier, sending magic outward and destroying the surrounding area.
Anthony forces his hands off the staff, finger by finger, murmuring the spell to drop the barrier safely. “I’m going to be so pissed if the library is at all damaged,” Anthony warns, just before his knees give out.
The headmaster catches him easily, lowers him to the ground. “Don’t worry,” they tell him, a smile on their elderly face. “She With No Form held it together for us. Now let the healers see to you.”
—
Anthony spends a week in the infirmary after that fiasco. Madeline spends only two days there. “Only one of us here near-fatally exhausted himself,” Madeline reminds Anthony, arch. “Warranted, yes, necessary, yes, and so is the recovery time. Stop trying to sneak into your lab, Tony, and rest.”
Anthony glares at her. “I’ve rested enough. I’m fine.”
All the rest of the staff are back on their feet. Classes have resumed. Black Star has taken statements from literally everyone, barring Lady Sarkana, who could not be bothered to return their calls. Forensics on Evelyn Waite’s home had shown that she had wanted the Library Alexandria and all its treasured knowledge. She had destroyed the dragon’s clutch, blamed it on the Academy, and was willing to sift through the ashes to get what was left of the Alexandria and sell it to the highest bidder. She’d already had buyers lined up. The staff are all mildly annoyed that Lady Sarkana ate her, and so they couldn’t take a crack at her themselves.
Madeline’s tone is severe. “By the time the Headmaster convinced you to stand down, you were bleeding from your nose, mouth, and ears , Tony.” She taps Anthony’s wrist. The tattoo, like all the rest on him, is ashen grey. “You completely depleted your reserves-”
“I know, I was there, Madeline!”
“Then why won’t you just let yourself heal?”
Anthony turns his glare to the ceiling.
Madeline has four children and nine grandchildren. She is a professional at waiting people out. Finally, Anthony grits out, “I can’t sleep here. The healer tried giving me a sedative, but all that did was make sure I couldn’t wake up from the nightmares. If I can work, I’ll be too exhausted to dream. I’ll heal slower, but it’s better than this.”
Madeline looks at him for a long moment. “That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say, and I was present when you were arguing with Dudley Carmichael over the appropriate way to serve tea.”
“Mad -”
“You are aware that magic is real, correct?”
“Don’t patronise me, Madeline, it’s beneath you.”
Madeline puts a hand on Anthony’s forehead. “Go to sleep you insufferable man,” she tells him fondly and sends him into a dreamless sleep.
Honestly, she thinks. He’s just as bad as her grandchildren.