The Guardian Lineage by Seth Z. Herman Page B

said, recalling his teacher’s preference. He spoke carefully, but to the point. “I wanted to be reinstated into Sparring class. If that’s okay.”
    Stockton glanced at his wristwatch and muttered, “Indeed.” He reclined, interlocking his fingers and placing them against his stomach. “Very well.”
    â€œVery well” was not exactly the response Mike was expecting. He lingered for a moment or two, causing an awkward silence.
    â€œThat’s it?” Mike said finally.
    â€œDid I not answer your question?”
    â€œOh, uh, yeah. Okay, thanks then.”
    Mike turned to leave. But before he could reach the door, Stockton said, “Mister Prior?”
    Bracing for some kind of insult, Mike said, “Yeah?”
    â€œDo you know why I suspended you?”
    The question caught Mike off guard. He had been expecting an argument, a rejection of the Headmage’s orders, or something else to make him hate the Magus more than he already did. Instead, he had been met with a calm, collected… almost courteous professor.
    â€œUh, no, actually.”
    Stockton snorted and placed his elbows on the table. “Of course not,” he said matter-of-factly, causing Mike to backtrack from his “courteous” assessment just a bit. Stockton rubbed his forehead, seemingly trying to pick which words to use. “Two things happened last night. Aside from you running away from school, of course.”
    I didn’t… oh, nevermind . Mike let it be. He was more curious to hear what Stockton had to say.
    â€œFirst, you deliberately disobeyed my instructions to attack when the bell rang. Second, you nearly decapitated a fellow student. Which of those reasons was the basis for your suspension?”
    Mike thought “nearly decapitated” was a bit of a stretch, considering Annabella had her arm in a sling. “I thought you did it because I couldn’t control my magic. Because I hurt her.”
    Stockton shook his head. “If you think that I care whether or not Miss Frost sprains a wrist, you are quite mistaken. Much worse has happened to Guardians in the past. A little toughening would do you people some good.”
    Mike wondered what that meant, but he wasn’t about to interrupt His Highness the Magus.
    Stockton blew out a frustrated breath. “You don’t understand, do you.”
    Mike wavered. He thought about Jakkus and his mind-reading ability, and decided to take the high road.
    â€œNo.”
    The Magus eyed Mike, seemingly deciding whether he wanted to share this information with him. Finally he said, “I want my students to get hurt.”
    â€œExcuse me?” Mike blurted out before he could control himself.
    â€œYou heard me. I want my students to get hurt. I want my students to feel like they’re on the battlefield. Because when you’re fighting, you don’t always have five seconds to form a shield. To tell you the truth, I was probably too generous; it should’ve been two or three.
    â€œThe whole reason we have a Sparring class is so that if you’re confronted with a fight – and I don’t mean four kids in the dining room trying to steal your lunch money, I mean a fight like you were in last night – so if you’re in a fight, you don’t wet yourself. If you’ve seen combat already, if you’ve learned what it means to procure spells on a dime, if you’ve felt what it means to get hit with a magical weapon, then you may survive. Without that, you might as well be a gargoyle at high noon.”
    Mike was more fascinated than anything. Stockton wanted his kids to get hurt… and that would prepare them for battle? He wasn’t sure if Stockton was crazy or brilliant, but he did know that these methods wouldn’t go over too well with the board of directors. If this place even had one.
    â€œAnd in the second contest of the year, you backed off. You allowed Miss Frost to