by Sarina Dorie
I considered jumping off the pegasus’s back but decided that might not be a good idea as he had already started toward the goal, and I didn’t want to get trampled. I tried to rein him in, but he ignored the signal.
Stay calm, I told myself. This might just be a fluke. If there was going to be a pegasus who talked, I would be the one to draw out that dormant power in a beast.
As we set out, the pegasus followed most of the directions and trotted toward the goalpost. He broke into a canter ahead of the other animals, despite how I tried to rein him in.
“Slow down.” I pulled on the reins.
“Are you ready to show those losers how flying is done?” He flapped his wings behind me.
“No,” I said firmly. “We are staying on the ground. Those were the instructions.”
“Honey, we both know rules were made to be broken.”
“No,” I said. “Rules were made for good reasons.”
The pegasus sprouted a horn. One of the students in the distance squealed and pointed. The pegasus’s pale body darkened, and his mane turned to rainbow stripes. The feathers of his flapping wings turned as black as his velvet fur. I was so mesmerized by his transformation I didn’t even notice we transitioned from running to flying until students screamed underneath me on the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” Coach Kutchi shouted. “Get back down here before I give you a detention.”
“Clarissa is a teacher, not a student,” Bart said. He wiggled his rear end and horse manure bombed down, exploding on the frozen earth like shrapnel. He flapped his wings harder and lifted higher.
“Get back on the ground, before I get in more trouble,” I said.
“Let’s show her what we’re capable of.”
Maddy sat on her pegasus, waving to me gleefully from below. She looked so happy. Imani and Greenie pointed and smiled, thinking this was all fun and games.
“I told you not to interrupt my classes anymore,” I said.
“No, you said not to go to the greenhouse. I didn’t.” Bart rose higher. He tossed his head in the air, drawing a rainbow with his horn as though it were a laser light projection. Students clapped.
“Let me make myself perfectly clear,” I said. “You cannot come onto school grounds. You can’t interrupt anyone’s classes.”
“How’s that dragon egg working for you? Did Professor Pegasus Breath make an omelet out of it yet?” he asked.
“No. That egg was a fake. It was a golden goose egg. I still need a dragon egg.”
“Sounds like you want me to go on another wild goose chase for you. I’m game if you are.”
I couldn’t tell from his response if he thought this whole dragon egg thing was a joke and had brought me the wrong egg knowingly or not. “I need that dragon egg to help my friend. He was cursed by the Raven Queen.” I thought back to what Thatch had said about Derrick’s curse. He hadn’t explained how he was like a ticking clock. Was he literally going to explode, or was that figuratively?
I patted Bart’s mane to get his attention. “Will you please get a dragon egg for me?”
“Sure thing. I’ll see what I can do.” He flew around the rainbow, tap danced on it, and sang “Tainted Love.”
I wanted to shout at him, but the ridiculousness of a tap-dancing unicorn dissolved my anger. I tried not to laugh. I didn’t want to encourage him.
Part of me was still annoyed with Bart for giving me a fake dragon egg and interrupting my class. But secretly, in my heart, I’d always wanted to fly. It was thrilling soaring higher than the school’s tallest tower on a unicorn-pegasus. It was every childhood dream come true. Students cheered. My belly flip-flopped when I looked down.
Of all the songs Bart had to pick, he chose, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” It wasn’t that I didn’t like the song, but it always made me sad. It made me think of Derrick and the tornado that had stolen him a way. The weight of those words sank into me, making my heart heavy. Bart flapped harder.
He broke from his refrain. “Hey, Miss Gloom and Doom, I need some sunshine to stay airborne. Stop with the pessimism already.”
We dropped onto the rainbow. Bart’s hooves skittered over the surface like someone might on an icy pond.
“It’s a sad song,” I said.
“No, it isn’t. It’s about hope.”
“Not for me. It’s about having things taken away from you and never getting them back.”
He started “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler. He sang beautifully and projected like a thespian. A few students who had lived in the Morty Realm sang along. They must have been fans of the eighties.
“Stop singing. You’re only encouraging them!” Coach Kutchi shouted, her voice amplified with some kind of spell.
“This was nice,” I said. “But we need to stop. It’s time to go back to the ground.”
We skidded down the rainbow like children on a slide. I held on to his mane, but we hit a bump, and I flew off. I landed on my butt on the rainbow, bounced again, and fell off. I screamed. Bart called my name, turning over his shoulder to see me plummet.
Students screamed. Coach Kutchi’s face was livid with anger. She unleashed a spell from her wand. More magic shot at me from Bart’s horn, colliding with her spell inches in front of me and exploding in hot sparks that singed my cheek. I was momentarily blinded by bright lights.
Another spell swooped in from behind me. Only, it wasn’t a spell exactly. The wind picked up and carried me sideways, across the field instead of downward. The wind cradled me with airy arms. The breath of breeze smelled like faraway places and another time. I tasted spring flowers, exotic spices, and freshly cut grass. It smelled like Derrick. I closed my eyes, yearning filling me. The gust slowly slipped away, and I found myself standing on the ground once again.
I had been so certain all my ghostly experiences could be explained away by the invisible man, but now there was this. Where was Derrick? Was he okay? I wanted to help get rid of his curse, but I didn’t understand what the nature of his curse was.
Bart trotted up to me. “You’re welcome,” he said.
“That was you?” I asked.
He snorted. “Who else would be as quick-thinking and heroic as me?”
I heard another snort, but no one else stood nearby except a pegasus that had gotten loose. Coach Kutchi rushed across the field at me. Students were in chaos. Some of them raced their pegasi on the ground. Three had taken off into the air. A few clusters of students had slipped off toward the school, probably intending to skip.
From the coach’s expression, I wondered if I would ever be allowed to ride again.
“That was fun, but you better leave before she hexes you,” I said. When Bart made no motion to move, I gave him a push toward the woods. Seeing that had no effect, I gave him a harder shove. “The coach looks really mad.”
She held up her hand, sending out a wave of kinetic energy that crashed into Bart. He skittered backward. I caught some of the outer shock wave of that energy and stumbled back as well.
He clomped toward her. “Two can play at this game.” He slashed his horn through the air.
“Bart! Stop! That is someone I work with.”
A dump truck-sized load of glitter landed on the coach. She floundered, trying to climb out of the mess.
“Coach Kutchi isn’t going to teach me if you keep making her angry and disrupting her class.” I stepped away from Bart and headed toward my colleague.
Bart nudged himself in front of me, cutting her off from view. “That lady has nothing valuable to teach. You should come to the forest with me. I’ll teach you all the magic you need to know.”
“Bart! No!” a male voice called.
“Come back to the forest,” someone with a Bronx accent said.
Galloping from the forest, a herd of unicorns trampled flowerbeds and sent students running out of their path as they cantered toward us. They appeared in their true forms: gray or brown, dappled and spotted, dark manes flowing. T
heir horns were natural hues of honey, oak, or burlap, earth tones that made them appear wilder than the domesticated unicorns housed in the school stables.
“She isn’t worth it,” one shouted. “No human is worth it.”
“They’re just jealous they don’t have a virgin of their own,” he muttered.
I backpedaled away, not wanting to be trampled.
“You can’t let her bewitch you. Stay strong and resist,” one yelled.
I continued backing away.
Bart stamped his foot. “Shut up. It’s my life and my magic. I can do anything I want with it.”
“You’re part of this herd. You’re coming with us.”
They continued toward him. He edged away. I ran now, trying to put more distance between us. In seconds they were upon him, herding him and pushing him toward the trees.
In my haste to flee, I didn’t watch where I was going. My foot slid across something slick. I slipped and fell, catching a whiff of the horse manure. I landed hard on my back, all the air whooshing out of me.
“Don’t worry, Clarissa. They can’t keep us apart. We’ll be together again, my love!” Bart shouted.
The stun of the fall left me breathless. The moment the capacity to breathe returned to me, pain stabbed like needles in my back and ribs. Maddy, Greenie, and Imani stood over me.
“Are you okay, Miss Lawrence?” Imani asked.
Coach Kutchi shoved them aside so she could shout obscenities at me, but I was in too much pain to care. Bart’s antics were getting dangerous. I needed to figure out what to do about him.
A lance of pain shot through my ribs every time I inhaled too deeply. I walked slowly down the hallway toward the nurse’s office, not wanting to make my back worse. I had managed to safely survive a pegasus hijacking, bounce off a rainbow, and land in a gust of wind, but fate hadn’t allowed me to walk away from unicorn manure without getting hurt.
Three students bounced around me like rubber balls, too much energy to contain.
Maddy squealed. “Wow, that was so cool!”
Imani laughed in delight. “I can’t believe you’ve ridden unicorns and pegasi.”
Greenie sighed with longing. “I’m so jealous. You are so lucky.”
“Uh-huh.” I felt real lucky at the moment.
“Can’t you walk any faster?” Maddy asked. “We’re going to be late for art next period.”
Fifth period wasn’t even over yet, but she was right. Who knew how long it would take me to recover. The nurse’s office was on the main floor, not far from the administrative wing.
I pointed down the hall, wincing as I raised my arm. “Go to the admin offices. Tell Mr. Khaba I hurt my back. I need someone to cover my class for a few minutes until I get there. If you can’t find him, go to Mrs. Keahi.” I looked to Imani. “And all three of you need to stay together.”
She glanced at Maddy and nodded, knowing why they had to stay together.
Maddy made a face. “Mrs. Keahi is so grouchy. I hope Mr. Khaba is in.” She ran down the hall away from me. The other girls followed.
I watched them for a long moment, wondering if it was a bad idea to send Maddy on an errand with the others. She was allowed to be chaperoned by other female students, but her magic had been overpowering her glamour lately. Boys were attracted to her like flies to a bug zapper.
The nurse’s office was around a corner and up a short flight of steps. The walls transitioned abruptly from stone to jarring pumpkin orange and toad green, as though the seventies had barfed up this hallway.
I climbed up the narrow stairway, brushing away spiderwebs. I prayed there weren’t any spiders in my hair. I didn’t know how there could be this many webs with students coming and going to see the nurse.
Nurse Hilda sat at a counter, reading a Harlequin bodice ripper. Her outfit looked somewhere between that of a World War I nurse and a stereotypical Halloween witch. She wore a long white apron with a red plus sign over a modest gray dress. Spectacles were balanced on her long, hawk-like nose. Her witch hat was white. Just like her apron, it was grimy and spotted with rusty blood.
The last time I’d been to the nurse’s office was months ago, when Maddy had first come to the school. I hadn’t actually spoken with the nurse that day, though I had taken in the filthy counter and gritty floor. Past a curtain behind her were several stained cots. I’d assumed the kids in there that day must have made it dirty, but it looked like it was always that way.
No wonder kids didn’t want to come to the nurse’s office if it was this unhygienic. The spiderwebs in the hallway made more sense if no one ever came here. I backed away.
Nurse Hilda looked up, her friendly smile revealing several missing teeth. The ones that were left were brown and crooked. My late father would have shed tears looking at her mouth, considering his occupation as an orthodontist.
She waved me closer. “Don’t be shy, dearie.”
I continued backing away. She hobbled around the counter. Quick as a wink, she was at my side, guiding me back into the room.
“What seems to be the trouble, dearie?” Spit sprayed out of her mouth as she spoke, and I turned my face away to avoid her spittle. “Any broken bones? A poisoning? How about an uncurable hex?”
“I hurt my back during flying lessons,” I said.
Nurse Hilda removed her wand from her sleeve and waved it over my back. “No broken bones. No tears in the muscle. Hmm. What could it be?” She chewed on the end of her silver braid.
“I think I need a chiropractic adjustment.”
She stared at me blankly.
“Or an osteopath. I’m out of alignment. It’s happened before.”
“I can align your chakras.” Her brow crinkled up. “Perhaps a potion to dull the pain?”
“Yeah, sure.” That was better than nothing, but I suspected I could have anesthetized the pain myself. If I didn’t have to sit in my classroom and teach, I could go to my dorm to meditate so I could focus on my affinity using the pain-blocking technique Thatch had taught me. What I really needed was a Morty doctor to pop everything into place.
The bell rang, signaling fifth period’s end. In another ten minutes it would ring again, signaling break was over and the next ninety-minute block period would be starting. I hoped my students had relayed the message that an adult needed to cover my seventh period.
Nurse Hilda hauled a cauldron out from a cupboard and set it on the counter. Next, she hefted a giant tome beside it. She paged through the book until she found what she was looking for. She rummaged through bottles and sprinkled ingredients into the cauldron. It was difficult to read the fancy script of the book from upside down, but I scanned the page the best I could. The heading read: To Dull the Pain of a Broken Heart.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I don’t have a broken heart. I have pain in my back.”
She shrugged. “Back, chest, heart . . . the spell is close enough.”
I understood our school was a charity school with lower pay for teachers, and we didn’t offer the same resources as a bigger school with better funding. Not all the teachers here were powerful, Merlin-class wizards, but I’d sort of thought they would at least have the budget to pay for a qualified nurse.
I skimmed the rest of the page as Nurse Hilda poured ingredients into her cauldron. I regretted my decision to stay when I saw the chimera testicles and bat dung she added.
“I’ve changed my mind. My back is feeling better. I don’t need a potion.”
“Nonsense dearie, I’ve gone to all this trouble of making this. You might as well drink it.” She ladled the potion into a mug. Vapors swirled up from the ceramic vessel. She hawked a loogie into it, a phlegmy, green gob that would make someone with cholera look healthy, and stirred it up.
My stomach churned, and I almost vomited right there.
“Um, thanks.” I held the cup, wondering how I could politely refuse.
Her silver eyebrows rose expectantly.
A warm breath brushed against my ear. The
voice was a whisper. “Don’t drink it.”
I whirled, staring at the empty air. No one was there. I touched my ear where the warmth had prickled against my skin. I hoped it was the Invisible Man, because if Julian’s ghost was at the school haunting me, I was screwed. And if that ghost was Derrick . . . I doubted any amount of unicorn semen was going to cure death.
“Bottoms up,” Nurse Hilda said.
I pretended to take a sip. The fumes stung my eyes, and I had to blink to clear my vision. “Wow, that was fast. I feel better already.” I set the mug down and stood. As I moved, the pain on my face gave me away.
She smiled. “Drink while it’s cold.”
I pretended to take another sip and tried not to breathe in the stench. I set the mug on the counter.
Nurse Hilda busied herself with tidying up the jars and returning them to the shelves. The mug floated from the counter and past me. The mug turned over and emptied into a potted plant. A hiss of smoke rose into the air, billowing around the shape of a man’s chest before dissipating. I stared in wonder.
A year ago, if someone had told me I would soon be living in a world of magical creatures and invisible people, I wouldn’t have believed it.
“Did you say something, dearie?” Nurse Hilda asked.
A twinge of pain shot through my ribs as I turned back to see her eyes raised expectantly.
“Um, no.”
She eyed me over her spectacles. “Where’s your mug?”
“Um. . . .”
Something nudged against my leg. I looked down to see it floating next to me. I lifted it and showed Nurse Hilda it was empty.
“That’s a good girl. Most of the students can barely get half their medicine down.”
“Hmm. I wonder why?” I handed her the mug and rushed toward the door. Each step lanced through my back, causing the muscles to spasm.
The potted plant I passed was withered and brown.
As soon as I made it to the stairwell, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. My back and ribs still twinged, but it was better than my insides shriveling up and looking like that plant. I didn’t know why Jeb kept Nurse Hilda around.
Warmth brushed against the back of my hand. I jolted away from it in surprise, cringing at the sharp stab of pain brought on by movement.
