The Burned Rogue Book

Chapter Seven: Falcons and Aligarmadils

Chapter Seven: Falcons and Aligarmadils

As it turned out, it was three thirty. Not that it mattered; everyone was awake, whether they were groggy or chipper.

When I came out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth, Atlas threw a shirt at me. Good morning.

“Hello,” I muttered, and I held it up to see. It was one of his blue v-necks.

“Put it on,” he said. “You’re gonna become one of the masses.”

I might’ve blushed, or I might’ve been too tired to care. I don’t know. But I went back into the bathroom and changed into his shirt.

Yeah, it smelled like him too. Though in exhaustion, I knew I’d have to enjoy it later.

But anyways, I came out wearing his shirt and Atlas was sitting on his bed, waiting, and playing with his weird Greek ice blade thing.

“Let’s go. The halls must be a mess. You still have the necklace, right?”

My hand instinctively went to the necklace, and I nodded.

“What’s Cornelia’s deal?” I asked, remembering that she mentioned the necklace. I stifled a yawn.

His jaw clenched, but he let out a sigh. “Jennabel, I hardly think that matters now.”

I shook my head. “Right. Sorry,” I said, embarrassed.

He opened the door for me. “After you.”

I walked through and fell over a sleeping bag.

“Oomph,” I said, rubbing my head. I hit it against a wall.

“I told you, one big sleepover,” Atlas lamented. He helped me up and we started rushing down the hall to find the other Rogues.

“Can you teach me a basic spell?” I inquired quickly. Atlas stopped and turned to look at me.

“You don’t know anything, do you? I mean, about Rogue magic?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll teach you two right now. A defensive spell if someone throws something at you: invicta.”

“What about offensive?” I asked, hoping I’d be able to remember these.

“Ignis. It throws a fireball at an enemy.”

I nodded. “Ignis.” Suddenly, a fireball shot right out of my hand, whooshed right past Atlas, and hit a door, sending it up in flames.

Atlas quickly shouted, “Permadefacio!” A blast of water hit the door and doused the flames. “Careful,” Atlas said quietly. “Words have power.”

So we continued running.

We made it to the main hall, where many Rogues were gathering. They were practicing spells (somehow keeping them contained) and pulling out weapons from thin air.

“Do I get a weapon?”

Atlas stared at me, and then he nodded. “Yeah. Hold on.” He dug in his pocket and handed me a weapon. I took it in my hands, and gave him a glare.

“A Swiss army knife?”

“You’re not fighting, Jennabel,” Atlas said.

“And what if I’m attacked? I can’t throw fireballs at them forever, especially if they’re on ignean devils.”

“You’re going to be safe. These attacks don’t last long. It’s not going to be a full fledged war, like the Great Fires War. There’s no way they could have gotten their reinforcements in a few hours.”