by Ilana Waters
“Your mother was a displaced flower child who believed in doing whatever she damn well pleased,” Titus barked. “Now, I’m the one making the decisions. And I say that school will instill some discipline in you.”
“You mean this sheep factory?” I shot back. “There is a difference between education and indoctrination, you know.”
For a few moments, there was nothing but silence.
“Look,” Titus finally said. “I am trying to explore other avenues when it comes to Abigail. To widen our search.”
Funny. The only things you seem to be widening are your wallet and ego by building a modern-day monument to yourself.
“In the meantime, if you want to find your mother, the best thing you can do is let me handle it by staying at that school.”
“Right. Because you’re doing such a bang-up job of handling it so far.” The only banging I hear is the sound of hammers, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the cool glass door of the phone booth.
“Watch your tone with me, boy. This is exactly why you’re still too young for the kind of search I’m contemplating. We may be dealing with forces that are more powerful than you can imagine. Forces that could kill you.”
I opened my eyes and sat up. “Forces you’ve been training me to deal with for over a decade? Forgive me if I doubt the veracity of this newfound protectiveness.”
“Just. Try. To. Blend. In.” I could feel Titus’s fangs grinding against his lower teeth, feel it in my bones.
I sighed in defeat. “Yes, warden.”
Chapter 6
“Bugger! Gods curse this stupid, sodding piece of—”
The disgruntled cries from the platform room above us were loud and plentiful. There was a snapping sound, the whir of film rapidly unwinding, and more cursing. A few bursts of light tinged with repair magic went up while we waited for Professor Martinez to finish setting up the ancient projector.
“They really need to spend some of the budget on new digital equipment,” Pen said. She held a book in her lap, and the pages turned of their own accord as she skimmed it.
“Nah,” said Miles. Several highlighter pens floated in front of him while he decided which color to use. “It’s not the budget. It’s that Professor Martinez is a purist when it comes to that stuff. Swears nothing can compete with the quality of old films.”
“We’ll be old by the time she finishes getting it to work.” Imogen shifted restlessly in her uncomfortable wooden seat. There was another burst of light from above, followed by a swell of magic and a string of curses.
The majority of the school’s students were here, in what had once been an old ballroom, now repurposed as an auditorium. With marble floors that seemed to stretch for miles, and sets of French doors leading to the gardens, I imagined superlative parties were once thrown in this space. Unfortunately, a somewhat duller afternoon was in store for us.
“The History of Witches Worldwide,” Suyin read from the syllabus, which she plucked from a folder bearing her last name, Shapiro, in large block letters. She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll be interesting. If we actually get to watch it, that is.”
Now, I know what you must be thinking, dear reader. But the film we saw that day contains highly guarded secrets about our kind. Don’t think you can go renting it along with the latest blockbuster. It’s shown only to those who already know witches exist, and have good reason to learn more about their heritage.
I glanced at the imprint of a vine on one of the French doors’ windows. It looked as if a leaf had been pressed there for a long time, or with great force, trying to break its way in. Why anything living would want to do that was beyond me. I hadn’t been at Equinox a month, and already, I couldn’t wait to get out.
The only thing stopping me from running was Colleen. It’d been weeks since that fateful day on the quad, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I learned she was a fire witch, like most of her family. Her father was a powerful necromancer. Her mother was dead, rumored to have been killed by the Unseelie. I’d thought about approaching her, but what if she was like so many other students here—afraid of me, or just plain spiteful? Besides, she was ludicrously popular, and always surrounded by a gaggle of people. And although I knew rejection was a part of romance, I didn’t fancy having an audience when I was inevitably turned down.
Besides, who knows how long I’ll be here? I absentmindedly rotated my finger in the air, tightening and loosening a screw on the chair in front of me. A few more calls into Specs’s office, and I might be expelled by the time Mabon break rolls around.
I was actually worried Victor and his goons might get on my case today, since we were all in the same place for once with the assembly. As luck would have it, they were seated at the opposite end of the room. But there were other small-minded twits in close proximity.
“Still hanging around that water wimp, eh, Pen?” Most of Nadine’s legs were clearly visible as she crossed them over Roger’s lap. “You ought to toss that wet blanket aside and come sit with us. It’s nice and warm here by the fire witches.” She and Roger smirked at each other. Geoffrey, who was sitting next to them, snorted.
“Piss off, ’Dine,” said Pen without looking up from her book.
“Yeah, piss off.” Miles grabbed an orange highlighter, and the rest flew angrily back in his bag.
“Well, I guess that garlic sauce at lunch wasn’t strong enough,” Roger said loudly. “Because it looks like the freak’s still here.” He stared right at me, and burst out laughing with Nadine and Geoffrey. Pen, Miles, and the rest of our group exchanged glances, but said nothing. I stared back at Roger for a moment, pretending to be puzzled.
“Oh, sorry,” I finally said. “That joke was so stupid, it took me a moment to get it. Carry on, then.”
“Did you just call me stupid?” Roger leaned forward, pushing Nadine’s legs off of his. We heard a heavy clank from above, and more cursing.
“I think Professor Martinez has almost got the projector working,” Suyin said loudly. “It says here the subtitle of the film is Reasons to be Proud,” she added.
Reasons to be proud. It reminded me of the motto of another boarding school, Deerfield Academy, in Massachusetts. Their students lived by the phrase “Be worthy of your heritage.” Just like Equinox. Everyone here had something to live up to, which came with its own pitfalls and pressures. Me? I was trying not to live up to something: the legacy of my father.
“You’d better be careful, Alderman,” said Roger, ignoring Suyin. “Keep talking that way to me, and I’ll shove that roll of film up your arse.”
“Bit childish, don’t you think?” I slumped down in my seat and leaned my head back. “What are you going to do next? Run my underwear up a flagpole?”
“Trust me, the last thing I want to do is get my hands on your underwear, mate,” Roger said.
This time, I was the one smirking. “You wish.” Then, in a singsong voice, “Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much.” Roger got out of his seat, placed one hand on either side of my chair, and put his face inches from mine. Pen stopped reading, Miles stopped highlighting, and Suyin’s hand tightened around her syllabus.
“Quit that talk,” he hissed, “or I’ll decorate the walls with your insides, freak.”
By now, the students all around had stopped what they were doing to watch us. Whispers and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Well, they already think I’m a freak. Might as well go for broke. I sat up and planted a kiss smack on Roger’s lips.
“What the hell?” Roger sputtered, jumping back and wiping his mouth furiously. The crowd erupted in shrieks and exclamations. Nadine stood up, looking like she wanted to drive a stake through my heart.
“Oh, sorry,” I said to Roger. “You put your face so close to mine, I thought you were leaning in for a kiss. You know, you shouldn’t make such overt advances if you’re not willing to reciprocate.” I grimaced. He tasted like cigarettes
. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“You . . . you mingy, sick little—” Roger drew back his fist to punch me, but Geoffrey leaped up and held him back.
“What in gods’ names do you think you’re doing?” Nadine snapped at me. “Keep your hands off my Roger!”
I shrugged. “Sorry, love. What can I say? I like boys, too. Sometimes. Other times, I like girls.” I sat up in my seat. “Does anyone else here have a problem with that? No, really—speak now, or forever . . . keep your irrational hatred to yourselves.” Roger struggled to free himself from Geoffrey’s grip, and I began to think I might have to get up to defend myself.
“What’s going on here?” Professor Martinez walked swiftly down the aisle, sweat on her brow, wiping her grease-stained hands on a rag. The crowd was instantly silent. “Do we have a problem, Mr. Davies?”
Roger scowled at me and set his jaw. “No, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, back to your seats, all of you,” she called. “I’ve finally gotten that blasted projector to work. The exciting show is about to begin!”
The exciting show was about forty-five minutes long. Although most mortals would be shocked at the secrets within, it was full of information most of us already knew. Which was why my friends and I spent three-quarters of it whispering to each other.
“First Wright, now Davies?” Miles looked at me in disbelief and shook his head. “You got some kind of death wish, mate?”
“I agree,” Pen said. “I’m all for snogging whoever you want, Josh, but . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“But maybe don’t start with Roger,” Imogen finished. Suyin made a face like she’d smelled a dead fish and shook her head.
“Sorry, everyone. Didn’t mean to cause a scene. It’s just . . .” I sighed. “I think the cachet I earned when I beat up Victor is beginning to run low. You see the grief I’m getting from the other students. At this rate, I’ll have to mummify a professor or something just to get these blokes off my back.”
“Why don’t you start with that dull Professor Stone?” Imogen yawned. “She’s practically there already.”
“Professor Stone?” Miles echoed. “More like Professor Drone. She just goes on and on, the same thing day after day. They should just have us memorize the textbook and give her the sack.”
“Miles!” Pen exclaimed. There was a loud “shhh!” from Parveen Kumar, House of Earth’s prefect.
Well, it’s true, Miles thought to the rest of us. The school could save a lot of money that way. They probably just keep her here as an ancient relic. I can’t believe we’ve got her all year. He kicked the empty seat in front of him. Stupid core requirements.
I can’t believe anyone would let themselves look that old if they could just glamour it away, Imogen thought.
Some witches like the respect it gets them, Suyin pointed out.
If by respect you mean wrinkles, then yeah, Miles said.
You shouldn’t make fun, chided Pen. We’ll be that old one day.
Please, Pen. Miles rolled his eyes. The woman looks like a shar-pei.
I had to stifle a laugh. Miles really did have her pegged. And he was right about her class, too. Hours upon hours of repetitive reading, period after period. It was enough to make one’s brain go numb. That was another class I shared with Victor, and I was surprised he hadn’t used it as an opportunity to start a confrontation. Every time I looked over at him, he was quietly reading along with the rest, just like always.
But I should’ve known that an evil mind like Victor’s never stops planning his next move.
Chapter 7
You’d think my kissing Davies would’ve been the talk of the school. But the chatter quickly died down. It was Tournament tryouts, and for the rest of the week, nothing else existed.
Tryouts weren’t mandatory, but since Miles, Pen, and almost everyone else was going, I didn’t see any reason not to. It beat being alone in a study period, or in House of Air’s common room, counting the seconds till I left this place.
The weather was still pleasantly warm, and the scent of falling leaves combined with autumn air almost made me forget where I was. But one glimpse of dozens of students on the field was reminder enough.
“Why isn’t the whole school here?” I asked Miles. We sat on the bleachers in our PE uniforms, waiting to be called. “With the way everyone talks about Tournament, I thought they’d all be chomping at the bit for a chance to try out.”
Miles shook his head. “Equinox’s too big. Tryouts are split up.” He picked at a thread on his shorts and grinned. “Sorry you don’t see Colleen, eh?”
“No,” I said quickly. “It has nothing to do with that.”
“You fancy Colleen?” Pen asked as she and Imogen gently pulled each other’s arms, doing stretches. Imogen raised her eyebrows.
“Only saw her once, and already he’s head over heels.” Miles nodded. “Hasn’t even talked to her yet.”
“I am not head over heels!”
“You did walk into a wall,” he pointed out. “Or a column, at least.”
“She wouldn’t be here anyway,” Pen said. “Prefects don’t have to try out. They’re automatically team captains.”
“Then what’s Oliver doing over there?” I asked. Sure enough, Oliver was directing students left and right with Daniel, the House of Water prefect. Mrs. Greggers, the head of PE, and a few other staff members were doing the same.
“Available prefects usually help out with Tournament activities,” Pen said. “Immy, stop twisting your shoulders. You’re making me go sideways!” Suyin, who was sitting next to them, laughed. Imogen made a face.
“I can’t help it.” Imogen squirmed and strained her neck. “I want to get a good look at that Daniel Cho. Maybe I can hex him. Stupid tosser told Colleen I ditched Professor Stone’s class. She made me reorganize all the books in House of Earth’s library! Took ages. Who does Cho think he is, tattling on other houses like that?”
“I think you want to sneak a peek because he’s cuuute,” Suyin taunted, and Imogen turned red. Pen grinned, and Miles nudged me in the ribs.
“Do not,” Imogen retorted. “I just think he should mind his business, that’s all.”
“Getting involved in other houses’ affairs does seem beyond the call of duty,” I remarked. “How’d he get to be prefect, anyway?”
“Same way all the others do.” Miles stood up and shook out his hands, loosening up his magic. “Chosen by the headmaster from among the sixth formers.”
“Actually, I think Daniel was a second.” Pen leaned back as Imogen leaned forward, holding her stretch. “Remember how Maria was chosen at the end of last year, but then she transferred to Solstice Academy?”
“Oh, right.” Miles pulled his arm behind his shoulder, and a small wave of water magic ruffled his hair. “I forgot about that.”
“What’s a ‘second’?” I asked.
“It’s like a replacement prefect,” Imogen explained. She turned toward me, but Pen yanked her back. “But instead of being chosen by the headmaster, second prefects are chosen by the first. Once you’re made prefect, the headmaster trusts you to make prudent decisions as to who should take your place. Like bloody tattlers,” she muttered.
“Bloody cute tattlers.” Suyin stood up and stretched out one calf, then another. “But I still think Oliver’s cuter.”
“Oh, gods.” Miles rolled his eyes. As if on cue, we heard Oliver shouting at someone a few yards away.
“Don’t touch that!” He rushed toward a girl who was telekinetically lifting a piece of sod out of a wheelbarrow.
“What?” The girl put both hands in the air, and the sod dropped back down. “I was just asking Shane what all this extra turf doing is doing here.”
“That’s not turf.” Oliver waved his arm, and the wheelbarrow shot in the opposite direction. “It’s leftover spell-cleanse.” The girl’s eyes went wide, and she took a big step back. The boy next to her, who must
have been Shane, whispered, “Whoa.”
“We need to get this out of here.” Oliver’s eyes narrowed at the wheelbarrow. “Shane, take it to the boys’ locker room right away. You,” he pointed at the girl, “go to the grounds keeper, Jenkins. Tell him where we’ve moved the spell-cleanse, that it needs to be locked up in Professor Stone’s office as soon as possible.”
“But we’ll miss tryouts!” the girl protested.
“They’ll still be here when you get back,” Oliver replied. “Now go, both of you. This stuff is dangerous. Never should have been here in the first place.” The girl took one last worried glance at the wheelbarrow before running off to find Jenkins. Shane gingerly moved the whole mess without touching it, heading slowly in the direction of the locker room.
“Wow,” Miles breathed. “That could’ve been a disaster.”
“I’ll say.” Pen nodded.
“That was spell-cleanse?” I frowned.
“Sure,” Suyin said. “It’s a magic-eliminating element used to clear the fields of any residue before the games. You mean you never heard of it?”
“Of course. I’ve just never seen it applied to sporting events before.” In that case, I didn’t blame Shane and that girl for freaking out. One touch of spell-cleanse—in any form—and a witch’s magic could be incapacitated for weeks. “Still, I wouldn’t fancy Oliver telling me what to do left and right, like he did those two.”
Miles snorted. “You might have to get used to it if you’re picked for the air team.” I raised my eyebrows. “During Tournament, the team captain is the only one who can order his or her other teammates to do things. Like throw a glamour together, work a spell, or even split up during the final quest to increase their odds of finding the Chalice.”
“I was thinking about that.” I pointed at him. “What if someone finds the Chalice before Tournament? You know, sort of stumbles on it accidentally?”
Pen shook her head. “You don’t accidentally become a Chalice Master.”
“A what?”
