Michael Pryor - Blaze of Glory

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

About the Author

Extract: Heart of Gold

Blaze of Glory

THE FIRST VOLUME OF The Laws of Magic

MICHAEL

PRYOR

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the authors and publishers rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Laws of Magic 1: Blaze of Glory

ePub ISBN 9781864714753

Kindle ISBN 9781864717341

A Random House book

Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd

Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney NSW 2060

www.randomhouse.com.au

First published by Random House Australia in 2006

This edition first published in 2010

Copyright Michael Pryor 2006

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia.

Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at

www.randomhouse.com.au/offices.

National Library of Australia

Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry

Author: Pryor, Michael

Title: Blaze of glory / Michael Pryor

ISBN: 978 1 86471 862 1 (pbk.)

Series: Pryor, Michael. Laws of magic; 1

Target audience: For secondary school age

Dewey number: A823.3

Cover illustration by Jeremy Reston

Cover design by www.blacksheep-uk.com

Internal design by Mathematics

For Wendy, Celeste and Ruby.

I'm a lucky man.

AUBREY FITZWILLIAM HATED BEING DEAD. IT MADE things much harder than they needed to be.

'When you're quite ready, Fitzwilliam! We haven't got all day!' bawled the pimply-faced Warrant Officer. Aubrey stood up straighter and glanced at him. The WO was Atkins, a fellow sixth-former, a newcomer to Stonelea School. He had an Adam's apple that made him look as if he'd swallowed a melon and he was taking great pleasure in his small position of authority. 'Two laps of the Hummocks, full pack.' Atkins paused to gloat. 'Lovely weather for it, cadet, if you enjoy heatstroke.'

Aubrey said nothing. He lifted his chin, stiffened his back and stared straight ahead to study the rounded hills of the Hummocks. The pounded earth trail he had to follow wound its way up and down through the sparse growth of the training course. Heat haze made the air ripple over the farthest reaches, obscuring the fence that separated the training course from the school playing fields.

Two miles, more or less. His task was to complete the circuit twice, at the double in early afternoon heat that had already sent the tennis players from the courts and the birds to drowsiness in the trees around the fence line.

Before his accident, Aubrey knew he would have completed the challenge without difficulty, even though, at the age of seventeen when many others were filling out and taking on their adult strength, he was still slight. He had pale skin, black hair and dark-brown almost black eyes, and he looked frail, a poet rather than an athlete. But he'd always managed to surprise people with his determination in running, boxing, or games. Boys much larger than him had learned that provoking skinny Aubrey to fight could be a poor idea. He could drag himself over broken glass if he set his mind to it.

But since the disastrous magical experiment, things were different. Balanced on the edge of true death as he was, physical strain even emotional strain could tip him over. He only kept the semblance of a normal existence by a combination of arcane spells and strength of mind. If his magic failed, it would be the end for him.

I'll just have to make sure I don't let that happen, he thought. He adjusted his shoulders.

'Step lively, now!' Atkins said. 'The clock's running! Don't keep us waiting! Remember, no magical assistance!'

Aubrey set off, grinding his teeth. Steady on, he told himself. He was probably bullied by his older brothers. And sisters.

The heavy woollen uniform itched, but Aubrey had no time to scratch under the khaki. With the weight of a full field pack on his back, it was all he could do to retain his balance as he shuffled along as fast as he could in a shambling gait that resembled a drunken sailor more than a well-trained soldier.

Heat hammered down from the cloudless sky and radiated from the hard dirt path. Aubrey staggered up the first hill that gave the course its name. His breath rasped in a throat that felt as if it was made of sandpaper.

Dimly, he could see Atkins and his cronies standing in the shade of a row of elm trees. They were sniggering and pointing, but Aubrey was pleased to see that they became more circumspect when George Doyle sauntered over. With his massive shoulders and height, George looked more like a wrestler than a student. For years, Aubrey had seen George stop arguments and make fists drop simply by appearing on the scene. It was an ability that Aubrey had used, on occasion, to his own benefit. After all, what were best friends for?

Aubrey's forearms ached as he held the heavy Symons rifle in front of him. The wretched thing was thirty years old, if it was a day, but thanks to Aubrey's meticulous maintenance was in perfect working order, even if it hadn't seen live ammunition in decades. Aubrey had even replaced the bolt action, using a spare part he'd found in one of the outbuildings at Maidstone.

Whatever gets me there, Aubrey thought and he gritted his teeth again.

He felt the webbing straps of his pack cutting into his shoulders and decided, not for the first time, that his desire for promotion to Warrant Officer was one of his more stupid ambitions. He'd sailed through the written examination and the interview from two army majors was straightforward. All that remained was the physical test.

Aubrey reached the next hill and stumbled. He heard laughter. 'Come on, Fitzwilliam! You want to fail, like your old man?'

Uneasy laughter greeted this jibe. Aubrey tightened his grip on the rifle and slogged up the slope, cursing the varying height of the hummocks that made it hard to maintain a rhythm. His pack threatened to topple him backwards, but he was prepared. He leaned forward, bent at the knees, and forged up the hill.