Bound (The Curse Trilogy Book 2)

by Nicole Marsh

  “Oh, I just didn’t want to leave you short staffed…” I begin.

  “You’re fine Mira.” Marc stands in front of me and offers his hand to help me up from my chair. “Why don’t you head home and catch up on some rest? Then take next week off. You can come back once you’ve passed your exams.”

  Too tired to protest, I pull myself up using Marc. I drag my chair back to my desk, then leave the Daily without looking around. Even though Marc wasn’t angry that I fell asleep, it’s still embarrassing to be the intern that drooled all over herself during the morning meeting.

  When I make it out to the parking lot and turn on my car, I see its only 7:30am. I was barely at work and basically spent my entire time there asleep. With a groan, I drive back home. I’m embarrassed, but also grateful to catch up on some sleep before Leif comes over this afternoon.

  A few hours later, a knock on my door wakes me from a deep sleep. I groggily lift my face from my pillows to examine my surroundings. Familiar furniture slowly comes into focus and registers in my foggy brain. It takes another minute or so for me to peel myself from my bed and make my way towards my door. Still a bit bogged down by my deep sleep, I open the door to reveal Leif standing on the other side.

  “Leif,” I state. My brain working in overdrive to wake up.

  He lets out a laugh and leans towards me. Before I have a chance to react, he bends over and places a soft kiss on my cheek. He whispers, “You’re cute when you’ve just woken up.”

  Leif takes two steps back and my cheeks redden as I process his words. I look down and see I’m wearing Vlad’s oversized sweatshirt and the pair of pajama shorts I threw on before climbing back into bed. When my gaze returns to Leif’s face, I see he’s staring at my bare legs. I clear my throat and his muddy brown eyes fly to mine. “Is it time to study already?” I ask.

  “Yes, it is,” Leif confirms. “I brought coffee and donuts for us. I’ll wait for you downstairs, near the cauldron while you get ready.”

  I firmly close the door then slip back into the jeans and top that I wore to work. In the bathroom, I quickly finger comb the strands of my pony tail before splashing my face with water. My mind is slowly, slowly starting to wake up by the time my feet hit the first stone step leading from my parent’s room.

  I descend the steps and pause before the door leading to the witching chamber. Every day I see him for our studies, my nerves amplify, worrying he is going to want to discuss his offer further. I fear if I decline, again, he will stop helping me prepare for the exams. Thankfully, we both seem to be avoiding the topic of his proposal, at this time and focusing on my studies.

  Although I’m more confident in my abilities than I was before, I don’t think I’m at the point of passing, yet. No one has told me the consequences in the witching world, if I were to fail my exams. However, I decided to stop asking about it because the outcome failure would have on our town is scary enough to think about. Either way, I still need Leif’s help and want to avoid discussions that upset him.

  Sighing, I push on the door. I start to stride across the room, but pull up short when I see the chaos Leif is creating. He has vials upon vials of ingredients placed to the side of the cauldron. Some are stacked rather precariously on top of others, due to the lack of space.

  I watch as he references a book I can’t see. He hops over to another shelf and pulls down an additional two vials. He moves without looking at me. Finally, I can’t contain my curiosity any longer and ask, “Leif, what are you doing?”

  He looks up from his book and offers me a large grin. “We’re done studying for the written portion of your exam. You’ve got that material down pat. Today we’re going to start brewing potions that could be included on the exam. Even if they don’t end up being the exact potions you need to make, they’ll be structured similarly.”

  “Okaaay,” I draw out. Gesturing to the mish mash of vials filled with ingredients, I ask, “What is with all this though?”

  Leif takes a step back and eyes the counter in front of him. He lets out a chuckle then his brown eyes connect with my gray ones. “I guess this does look a bit insane.” At my nod, he continues. “When you get to the brewing portion of your exam, it will be similar to this… just not so precarious.” He says ending with another chuckle. He begins to rearrange the vials attempting to make space for them all to fit on the top of table bordering each side of the Cauldron. “The brewing portion of the test lasts no longer than an hour and fifteen minutes. This portion is timed, so there’s no opportunity for it to go over. Although if you move quickly, there’s a chance for it to be completed in less than the allotted time.”

  “That’s good to know. But what are all these vials for?”

  “Right,” Leif chuckles again and strides across the room to stand beside me. He slings an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side. “There will be a separate table with all of your ingredients, just to the side of your cauldron. They’ll be out of order like they are here,” He says gesturing to the mayhem in front of us. “You’ll have three twenty-minute segments to brew three separate potions, with a five-minute break between each. During your twenty minutes, you’ll have to find your ingredients on the table, brew your potions, and bottle two vials of each. After time is called, your proctor will test the potion. If it works, you pass that round.”

  Normally, the ingredients in my parents witching chamber are in alphabetical order on the shelves surrounding the cauldron. Despite the disorder, I’m thankful Leif thought to mimic the exam in its entirety. I would’ve been overwhelmed and stressed to go from such an organized way of brewing to total chaos and a limited time frame. Better to practice like this with the knowledge I will need to hunt quickly for my ingredients than expect something else entirely and risk failure.

  I crane my neck up to look at Leif. His face is directed towards the cauldron and ingredients, but turns to face me when I start to speak. “What happens if I fail to brew one of the potions correctly?”

  “You only have to successfully brew two of the three potions. If you fail the first two, you won’t be allowed to continue. If you pass the first two, you have an option to choose to brew the third or not. I would recommend continuing brewing, whichever Coven you end up at will appreciate a full assessment of your abilities and whether or not you were able to complete all three potions successfully.” He squeezes me tighter against his side at the end of his statement.

  Ignoring his subtle reference to his proposition the other day, I ask my final question, “How do you know which potions will be required during the exam?”

  “I don’t.” Leif shrugs. “But I know what types of potions will be included. Without question, each potion will contain only three ingredients. Although the ingredients used in a potion can affect the complexity, it is a general rule of thumb that a simpler potion requires less ingredients.”

  Leif turns me toward him, moving to wrap his arms loosely around my lower waist. The position feels too intimate, so I lean back to create a bit of space between us. He’s undeterred and smiles down at me. “Don’t be afraid of the exam, eh. You picked up on the ingredients and their uses very quickly. I’m impressed and I know you’re going to kill this test. Are you ready to get started, Mira Love?”

  I step back, breaking through the loop of his arms and walk over to stand behind the cauldron. “I’m ready.”

  Pulling out a stopwatch, Leif looks at me from across the room. “We’re going to mock the regular test. I’ll tell you when to start, then you’ll get twenty minutes to brew. After that we’ll have a five-minute period to test, clean-up, and prepare for the next round. The manual near the cauldron is opened to your first potion. Are you ready?”

  I look around at the disarray surrounding me and take a few deep, calming breaths. This is just a trial run, so I can perfect any issues before the real deal. I glance at the cauldron seeing that its empty, then drag my eyes up to connect with Leif’s. We stare at each other intently for a brief minute, then I
nod my head.

  “Okay, go!”

  13

  The Exams

  Mirabella

  I’m driving to the outskirts of town and, despite my protests, I’m followed by my entourage of supporters. It’s the day of my witches exams and the first time I get to interact with the coven. The coven conducts all their business matters in a large industrial style building near town and I’m a jumble of excited nerves as I drive there.

  Loaded in my car are Leif and Sylvia. The two of them are mitigating my nerves a bit as they squabble like siblings over the name of an actor for a popular TV Show. I tune them out the best I can as I cautiously drive towards my test.

  Checking my review mirror, I see the rest of the cars following behind me. My grandmother’s ancient, burgundy Chevelle is right on my bumper. Behind her at a more reasonable distance, my parents follow with the Morts in their Black SUV, the Amica family are next in line in a similar vehicle. Lastly, Marc brings up the tail in his Truck.

  The last addition to our group surprised me with a knock on my front door at seven in the morning. I was just finishing my third loop around the house, trying to expel all my nervous pre-test energy, during the hour I had to kill prior to departure time.

  Opening the door, I found Marc standing on my front porch wearing a pair of khakis and a hesitant expression. “Hey, Mira.”

  “Marc? Hey.” I responded questioningly.

  His feet shuffled back and forth on the porch, before he stated why he was at my house around seven on a Saturday. “I remembered you said your exams were today. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I came with to cheer you on.”

  “Oh,” I replied, startled. “Of course not. Come on in. I was just walking nervous loops around the house; would you care to join?” I asked jokingly, extending my elbow for him to take.

  The sight of a towering steel and brick structure snaps me from my memories of the morning. A few large, glass windows break up the mass of steel and brick, glinting as the sun rises. The smattering of windows does very little to diminish the intimidation of the hulking, unsigned structure.

  “Is this it?” I ask my now silent car. My voice is a low whisper, out of reverence or fear, I’m not sure which.

  “This is it,” Sylvia replies, her tone equally quiet.

  I pull my Prius into the closest parking spot, waiting as the four cars following also park in empty spots around the lot. I throw my phone into the glovebox while I wait, knowing I can’t bring it in for my exams. Together Sylvia, Leif, and I open our doors and head to the front of the building.

  At the top of the sidewalk, I pause. Craning my neck, I look up, up, and up to the top of the building, wondering what else happens here, in such a massive place.

  Leif slings his arms around my shoulders and talks quietly near my ear, “There’s a lot going on in the world of witches. Potions are just the tip of the iceberg.” He gives me a squeeze before dropping his arm.

  I return my gaze to the door in front of me and see my family and friends have crowded around me. My parents, my grandma, the Morts minus Vlad, the Amica’s, Marc, and Leif. “Ready?” I ask.

  A chorus on nods and a few yesses sound out from the group. Together, we walk through the front door of the building and into the lobby.

  I’m surprised to see the interior of the building looks so calm, with a large koi pond split in the center by a small wooden bridge. Straight ahead are a set of sleek, black elevator doors. To the left is a coffee stand and to the right is the reception desk. The entire set-up feels like the lobby to a fancy hotel. Not the headquarters for the witches’ coven of the Northwest.

  Looking back at my parents for some sort of guidance, my mom makes a subtle shooing motion to go ask for directions. I force my feet to step one in front of the other as I approach the desk with two women dressed in black robes. “Hi,” I croak out upon reaching them. Clearing my throat, I try again. “Hi, I’m Mira Love. Here for my witches exams. Could you point me in the right direction?”

  Without looking up from the tablet-like device in front of her, the robed woman on the left points to the elevator. “All testing takes place on the fourth floor. Take the elevator, and follow the signs.”

  I walk back to my crew and say, “Fourth floor.” Surveying the size of the group, I tack on, “We may need both elevators.”

  We head to the black doors and divvy up when both elevators arrive within seconds of one another. As soon as the doors closes, the elevator shoots up and almost immediately dings that we arrive. Leif laughs as I exit on shaky legs, feeling a sense of vertigo. “They’re spelled to be more efficient,” he informs me.

  “That was terrible,” I groan. A couple chuckles sound out from the group around me as I grab onto the wall for a few seconds. I cling onto the drywall, attempting to regain my balance until I feel like I can walk again.

  Eventually, our little gaggle makes its way down the winding hallways, following the signs directing us towards the witches exams. It feels like half an hour before we finally reach a waiting area with other young witches and their parents.

  Most of the other witches have one or two family members with them. My cheeks heat with embarrassment when I realize I’m the only one that brought a ten-person team to cheer me on. A few of the other waiting witches’ glance at us periodically, but everyone seems content to keep to themselves. I notice books on the laps of some of the others, attempting a last-minute study session.

  The eight-minute wait crawls by. It’s an eternity before a stern looking older woman appears. She has a wrinkled face, with dark sunken eyes, and a mass of gray hair pulled into a tight bun. Like the receptionists, she’s also clad in a set of dark robes. Must be some type of uniform for the building, either that or witches closely affiliated with the coven all have the same fashion tastes.

  She stands just outside the wooden door she entered from and claps her hands twice. The already quiet room falls silent. “Any witches here to take the exam, please form an orderly line here.” She points to a square on the floor before us.

  My mom pulls me into a tight embrace, passing me to my dad quickly after. Once he lets go, I’m swept up again, this time by Tricia, with Mr. Mort giving me a fatherly pat on the back. When they let go, Sylvia rushes forward to grab my hands. She’s loud and excited when she offers her encouraging “You can do this Mira!” while her parents nod enthusiastically behind her. My grandma steps up to my side, wiping a few tears away from the corner of her eyes, then gives my hand a quick squeeze. Leif gives me a one-armed hug with a side of static shock then steps back.

  Marc is the final member of my crew to wish me luck. For a second, he and I stare at each other awkwardly, before we both laugh and step forward into a warm hug. I feel the electric, tumbling, dryer feeling I’ve felt when hugging him in the past, only much less intense. We separate and he looks down at me with an affectionate expression. “You can do this Mira; I believe in you.” His eyes flit past me to the others and he adds. “We all do.”

  With a deep exhale, I turn back to the rest of my entourage and offer a small wave and a half smile. Then I turn around and join the line of witches waiting to take the written exam.

  Our Proctor turns back towards the room and ushers us inside. I hear one a final quiet wave of murmured encouragement from my family before the door slams shut behind us.

  I stand behind the girl in front of me, counting eight of us total, six females, including myself, and two males. We all stand in a line facing north, in the front of a room that looks like a classroom. To our left sits fifteen or so desks staggered in a way that no two are directly in line with one another. To our right sits a teacher’s desk with a blackboard centered on the wall behind it.

  The Proctor claps her hands together again, twice. Once it becomes clear that she plans to provide instructions from her current position, our line awkwardly shuffles in a half circle to face the south side of the room where she stands by the door. “Alright, we will begin the day with th
e written portion of your witches exams. You MUST pass this portion of the exam with at least eighty-seven percent accuracy, in order to participate in the brewing portion of the test. There will be one-hundred questions and you will have an hour to accurately answer as many as you can. The test will be a combination of multiple choice and fill in the blank, with a few true or false thrown in as well. If you finish early come up to my desk. You will sit in the seat to the side while I grade your test. Your results will be given to you immediately. Any questions?”

  A few heads shake to decline, the rest of the line remains mute.

  “You may choose your desk.” Our Proctor announces.

  After a brief scramble, all eight of us are seated. The Proctor walks around passing out exam booklets and pencils to each witch. The booklets are placed face down on the desk, so we all have the same amount of time, I guess. She returns to the front and settles into the chair behind the desk. A clicking noise echoes through the room and a large, red set of numbers reading 60:00, appears on the chalkboard behind her.

  She’s the focus of our rapt attention and seems to bask in her position of power for a second before she calls out, “Begin.”

  The red numbers behind her start counting down rapidly. I immediately flip over my booklet and open to the front page. The first question is easy, multiple choice:

  What is the preface for a root commonly used in sleeping spells?

  A) Dog B) Angel C) Root D) Somnia

  I circle D and move to the next question. That answer is easy as well. I fly through the first twenty-five multiple choice questions, my confidence growing with each answer. When I hit question twenty-six, I’m completely stumped.

  Approximately ninety percent of berries used in potion brewing are toxic. True or False