Paranormal Academy

by Limited Edition Box Set

  He was just a man doing his job, I knew, but I also knew if I really wanted to I could probably break out of the restraints I was in and blow this joint. The thought bolstered me. This was a temporary haven. I’d heard some weird things about this place, but I didn’t think much could be worse than living in an environment where you were merely tolerated. Among worse things. Things I didn’t want to examine right now.

  Or ever.

  I allowed my shoulders to droop a little even as my muscle memory cringed at it.

  “Honey Celeste!” my mother used to screech. “Bad posture is the mark of a lower class magician. Are we lower class magicians?”

  “No, Mother,” I remembered muttering as I forced myself to envision a steel rod at the base of my spine.

  But I didn’t have any parents here now. And I was, officially, one of the lower class now.

  The smile that started to form a minute ago bloomed over my face.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  2

  The interior decorator for this place should be fired. Gargoyles littered the ceiling beams, creepy little things staring down at me. They were inanimate, but they gave me the heebie jeebies all the same. I stared up at them even as my feet pressed forward into the unknown. They reminded me of those weird ass museum pictures of people where the eyes seemed to follow you no matter which direction you moved.

  An involuntary shudder shook me as I forced my eyes to focus on something else.

  Grey. This place looked like a giant carrying an enormous paint bucket tripped and spilled grey paint all over the place. From the stone floors, to the walls, even to the ceiling, grey was the name of the game. The only source of warmth came from the sconces littered around the area, casting off cheery amber light.

  It still didn’t do much to diminish the gloom of the place, though.

  We stopped in front of a large wooden door marked Headmaster. I rolled my eyes. This place seemed more formal than it probably should be, especially if it was filled with youthful offenders.

  “Miss Celeste?” A woman’s voice at my right shoulder made me stiffen. Few people could sneak up on me. I cast a glance at her. Pretty, blonde, and slight, she looked like she should be the overworked assistant of a department head rather than working in this hovel. Her teeth were too white, her hair too pristine. I dismissed her with a snort and turned my attention back to the door.

  I could feel the hostility in the woman at my slight.

  “Miss Celeste,” she said again, though this time it wasn’t a question. “When you enter the room, you will meet with Mr. Mago and undergo a series of testing.”

  I didn’t turn around.

  The woman let out a soft sigh. “Very well, since you seem uninterested in what I’m saying, I’m going to assume you don’t want to hear any well-meaning words of advice.”

  I blinked in surprise and was about to turn to her to object when she said, “Send her in.”

  The doors opened abruptly.

  “Wait!” I said.

  I turned only to see the woman wearing a smirk before a hand shoved my shoulder and I stumbled into the room.

  My hands went down to catch myself and I winced at the cold feel of the stone against my palms. With a loud clang, the doors shut behind me.

  Darkness fell. My breath was harsh and loud in the sudden silence. I blinked rapidly as my eyes adjusted. I didn’t have the night vision of a shifter, but it was still better than a norm’s.

  A massive desk loomed in front of me. My brow knit into a frown. I forced myself to slow my breath down as I slowly got to my feet.

  A desk wasn’t scary.

  Neither was the man sitting behind it.

  If there was ever a stereotypical representation of a wizard, it was the headmaster. He wore a large lumpy hat that drooped over to one side of his head. White hair fluffed out of it in a elongated u-shape. His beard, fluffy and quite glorious if I were being honest, trailed down his face and rested above his heart. Eyebrows, white and reminiscent of two fluffy caterpillars, were relaxed above small but expressive eyes covered by a pair of thin reading glasses.

  He looked curious, no more, no less.

  “Miss Celeste?” he asked.

  I was getting tired of people saying my name. Brushing my palms against my thighs, I straightened fully.

  “That’s what everyone calls me,” I said politely.

  He motioned for me to take a seat in one of the fluffy chairs right in front of the desk. I meandered slowly, taking a moment to look around the place now that my eyes had adjusted. As office spaces went, it wasn’t much, though it did have sort of a medieval charm I couldn’t help having a soft spot for. The place itself was done in all wood paneling, very circa 1970s man cave, but where most spaces like this would have seemed like a perfect place for seedy politicians to meet and smoke cigars, this one seemed … homier, like he spent so much time in here, he’d claimed it as a second home. On the left side, the wall was made of built-in shelves. Filled with books and knick-knacks, it made me want to kick up my heels and stay awhile.

  I frowned at that. The sooner I got out of here, the better.

  On the right side of the office, things got a little more mystical. Dozens of potion bottles lined one of the shelves, followed by various scientific instruments and chemistry supplies.

  He must have noticed my gaze. “Experiments, I’m afraid. All failed.”

  I took a few steps closer and peered at everything. Some of the bottles glowed, the magic within them still active. Whatever they were. I kept my distance from those seeing as how none of them were labeled.

  “Experiments for what?” I asked.

  The Headmaster sighed. “Bits and bobs and things I’m afraid I can speak of.”

  At my look, a smile creased his kind face. “Nothing sinister, just things I don’t want the students discussing.” With that, he motioned again for me to sit. It was only then that I noticed the desk had begun to glow. I stopped in my tracks and stared. Glyphs and runes began to glow within the surface, spinning in colors of amber and gold. As I watched, the night stars etched within it began to shimmer with color and the names of all sorts of magical studies appeared and disappeared. Moments later, the shimmer faded, and I saw nothing but the desk, black as night, and silent as if the last few moments had been a dream.

  “Ah yes,” he said. “I see it finally woke up and responded to you.” He patted the desk as if it were an old dog.

  I reluctantly sat down and almost sighed as I sank into the softness of the chair. Being in jail sort of made you forget how good the real world could be with all of its comforts.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He took his glasses off and laid them on top of the desk. It seemed a small gesture, but based upon the magic emanating from the wood, I couldn’t help but feel it was a little sacrilegious. “Upon your enrollment in the Merlin Academy, we enroll students in programs based upon your magical strengths.”

  I swallowed hard, not liking where this was going.

  “The desk is here to assist us. We’ve known you were coming for the last few days, Miss Celeste. During that time, we’ve done our best to research your family lines in order to help us better discern your strengths and your weaknesses. The desk is merely here to help us narrow it down so we can best slot you into the academic program best suited for you.”

  That sounded like a bunch of hogwash to me. If he’d done the research he said he had, he would know I was a witch, plain and simple. I wasn’t aware there were any paths for witches other than the herbalism path, especially since we were only supposed to be tied to the moon. Based upon what he was saying, it sounded like there were many paths, and I would have to touch the desk to be slotted into the right one.

  I studied the headmaster. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  Surprise flashed across his face. “Oh, sorry! Brooks Mago,” he said, a slightly deprecating smile forming on his mouth. “I’m the Headmaster here. You took m
e by surprise when you walked in. I wasn’t expecting someone so curious about the way the place looked.”

  I could feel the slight spots of color forming on my cheeks. “Sorry. I’m interested in the feel of places,” I said. It was true and … not true. I could walk into a room and know when the last time magic had been performed there. And sometimes what kind. It was something I’d never told anyone. From the feel of this place, magic was performed here all the time. It could have been the desk, but it could also be Mr. Mago.

  “I guess I don’t understand. How exactly does the desk work?”

  He waggled his fingers around. “Magic,” he said, but his tone was laced with amusement. “It was designed thousands of years ago to help hone magical talent during the war.”

  My eyebrows went up at that. The Ravenscliff War was rarely spoken about anymore, but the fallout of it was very real. Our lands butted up against the human lands and were separated only by an ironclad treaty. We didn’t mix with humans if we knew what was good for us. Considering the humans were terrified of us, the only ones stupid enough to stumble onto our lands were those who were terrible with directions. For the most part, they were shuffled out quite quickly with the aid of memory blocking spells and magical wind gusts.

  It was a tenuous truce at best.

  “It helped separate troops into magical regiments with similar powers. Air Magicians in one place, Fire in the other, shifters, wolves, etc. Once the war was over, the desk was put away and only came into our possession out of necessity. A few magical tweaks and it’s been happily sorting people ever since.”

  I squinted at it. I wouldn’t call the desk happy. An energy leaked from it I found disturbing. There was a sentience there that scared me, though I dared not voice my opinion of it. I wondered if the desk had an agenda, but then shook my head of those thoughts.

  It was a desk, plain and simple. A magical one, yes, but a desk nonetheless. “So what happens then?” I asked. “Do I just touch it and happily be on my way?”

  Mr. Mago sighed. “Usually we wait for a Commitment Ceremony to occur, but our new semester is supposed to begin tomorrow. Therefore we must press on and have your place decided today.”

  I sucked in a breath. I was not prepared for this. Not knowing what the desk could discern had me on edge. “Do I have to touch it? Can’t I just tell you what I’m good at.”

  A spark of something flashed in Mr. Mago’s eyes. “I’m afraid not. We know both of your parents are witches, but there can be a lot of …” He paused for a moment and held my gaze. “Anomalies,” he said.

  “Anomalies?” I echoed.

  “Quite. Things like mixed up birth records, adoptions, odd genetic quirks, things like that you know. Paperwork is rarely perfect.”

  “I … see,” I said, though I didn’t really see at all. Was he trying to tell me something?

  “The desk is a foolproof method of working through that, you see. We usually have an idea of where you will be placed, but the desk is the deciding factor.”

  Mr. Mago stood then, a slow and grand effort based upon the creaks and groans in his bones. I studied him until he made a hand motion for me to stand.

  I did so and watched as he slowly made his way around the desk. His dark gray robes fell all the way to the floor. I couldn’t tell if he was thin or hearty, but palpable magic rippled from him. Mr. Mago was not someone to screw around with. I knew that for sure.

  When he came close enough to violate my personal space, He reached for my hand and, with an apologetic smile, slammed it down on the top of the desk.

  The world fell out from underneath my feet.

  3

  Moon and stars and heavens and shimmering light burst into my vision. I inhaled a gasp of air and blinked rapidly. Pictures flew by my face so rapidly I could barely make out anything.

  Only the moon.

  It loomed in front of me like a preening goddess, its light soft and pale as it swam against my body. I gasped with delight as the power of it filled my bones and the very essence of me. Witches are tied to the moon, but right now I didn’t feel tied at all. A freedom I’d never known spread within my cells and I knew all I had to do was reach out and grasp at the power she was offering me.

  I knew I would never be lonely again. I could be free. Powerful. I could finally discover what I was and why I never fit in anywhere.

  But as soon as I reached out with my fingertips to touch the surface, I was abruptly ripped away.

  My knees hit the stone, and I gasped as shudders racked my body.

  “Miss Celeste?” a voice called out. Someone gently shook my shoulders.

  I couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do anything other than try to gasp in the oxygen I was being deprived of.

  “Miss Celeste!” The urgency in the voice was unmistakable. Something terrible was happening to me.

  My bones went liquid as I collapsed to the floor.

  The smell of alcohol hit my nose with an acrid tang. I cringed and tried to bat the smell away.

  “She’s awake, Mr. Mago,” a voice said.

  I slowly opened my eyes, only to shut them at the harsh white light surrounding me.

  “Relax, Miss Celeste. We have our best healers here. They say you’ve been through quite a shock.” A rueful chuckle sounded above me. “Though I will say you put us all through quite the scare.”

  I opened my eyes then. Mr. Mago loomed over me, his kind face almost completely obscured by beard hair due to the angle he was standing at.

  “What happened?” I croaked, then tried to swallow a few times to get the chalky dryness out of my mouth.

  A woman’s voice sounded. “You almost broke our desk. That’s what happened.”

  I turned my head only to see the annoying blonde woman from before. Her mouth was pursed in an expression like she’d eaten lemons and wasn’t quite sure if she liked them or not.

  “Sorry,” I whispered. I wasn’t sorry, actually. I didn’t know what I was besides sore. My body felt like electricity had coursed through it, stayed awhile, maybe had a cup of tea, and then left without paying the bill.

  Mr. Mago came into my line of sight. He loomed above me and all I could see was nose hair and bushy eyebrows. I flicked my gaze away and shut my eyes tight. What in the world just happened? Flashes of memory played through my mind like a disjointed movie. I was one with something ... a much more powerful force than myself. Omnipotent, even.

  Was it the goddess?

  It was laughable.

  And yet ... the remnants of power inside my bones made me wonder. I felt Her presence just as surely as I felt my own skin each day. I'd always been taught that the Goddess was the force who'd given me my power, but it felt abstract. Like theory or algebra. You could use it, but it was always logical. Set. You did one thing to get the end result. So my belief had been based upon practicality. Science is what it was, now that I had something to compare it to.

  This was different. Palpable and tangible. Even now, I could smell the faint scent of jasmine and ... well, I couldn't tell what the other smell was, only that I would never forget it.

  My belief was no longer scientific. In that moment, lying in the bed weak and frazzles, I knew one thing.

  I'd never tell a soul what I experienced today.

  But there was a bigger issue at hand right now.

  "What did it say?"

  "Pardon?" Mr. Mago asked, though his eyes told a different story.

  Something happened when I touched the desk, and I'd bet my left foot it wasn't normal.

  "The desk," I said. "What path did the desk choose for me?"

  The blonde woman shifted uncomfortably. I didn't look at her, but from my peripheral I could see the way she wrung her hands. Nervousness? Or something more?

  "Ah well," Mr. Mago said, his voice gruff, "funny thing, that." His gaze pierced me. "It placed you in General studies and marked you as a shifter."

  I stiffened in surprise. A shifter?

  I felt a voic
e, cool and ancient, brush across my mind. Hush, child, it said. All will be revealed.

  "So this means I can try out for athletics?" I asked. Even I was impressed at how cool and nonchalant my tone was. I was as shifter as my wardrobe was goth.

  Not even a little bit.

  But if the Goddess wanted me to pretend, I'd do my best. Even if the full moon was less than a few weeks away. If I didn't shift then, the jig was up.

  Still, though, a few weeks was enough for "all to be revealed." I just hoped it was something I could handle.

  Cheerleaders were the literal worst. I was flexible, always had been, so that wasn't the issue. The choreography was annoyingly simple even if the Head Cheerleader thought twerking was an acceptable substitute for dance talent.

  It was the relentless perkiness that threatened to make my head explode. If I heard one more, "Oh my God, Laura your butt like looks soooo good in that skirt today," I was going to stab myself in the eye with a pencil. If you were even a little height weight proportional, everyone's butt looked good in a skirt that short. I had to keep reminding myself I was supposed to know how to be comfortable wearing something that with one wrong move could show my butt crack. The underwear was barely enough to be called underwear. Yet, everything was covered. As long as I stood stock still and didn't shift a muscle.

  This all seemed wildly inappropriate, but apparently shifters suffered from a shocking lack of modesty.

  "Honey?" the captain called.

  "Mmm?" I answered, even as my fingers itched to cast a quick spell to make my skirt grow an additional three inches. Or six.

  Sigh.

  "We need to do one more round of practice for the pep rally Friday." She pegged me with her piercing cornflower blue eyes. Kelly wasn't all that smart, but she was shrewd. Two different things, especially when it came to academics. Socially shrewd is what she was. But throw a simple math problem at her and those pretty eyes would glaze over and she'd stiffen like an animal caught in bright headlights.

  Confusing her had become the highlight of my day.