Dark Arts (Society of Ancient Magic Book 1)

by Fiona Starr

  “I can’t believe it. I mean. I know what I saw. And… holy shit, Joely.”

  I realize absently that Nessa’s been talking nonstop.

  I shake my head. “What?”

  “I saw those crows and then… I saw you. You did something with your hands and you… you…”

  “Ravens,” I say.

  “What?”

  “They weren’t crows, they were ravens.” I touch my chest where the one bird dove into me. There’s a low humming vibration inside my ribcage that makes me feel like I can take off right now and sprout wings.

  “Oh.” She waves the thought away. “Crows, ravens, whatever. That doesn’t matter. Joely… you flew.”

  My mouth goes dry as I take in her words. “I what?”

  She nods. “You flew.”

  “Flew?”

  She nods again, her eyes wide. “Floated. Levitated, whatever. You were hanging out in the air, like twenty feet up, with those two birds flying circles around you.”

  I laugh because it sounds totally ridiculous. “That isn’t possible.” I replay the events of the past few moments in my head, and sure enough… I remember floating, but… “I thought I dreamt it.”

  “Um. Nope. It was totally real. And you know what it means?”

  “What does it mean?” The question makes my stomach drop and my skin break out in a flash of sweat, as if I were a little girl about to get into a heap of trouble.

  Nessa smiles and wipes a tear from her cheek. “Joely, you have magic.”

  I have magic.

  As if to punctuate her declaration, the two huge ravens break from the trees and sail over us and across the henge, their twin calls like a sign from beyond the veil. Part of me wants to dismiss what happened here tonight as some kind of weird fever dream that Nessa and I shared. Maybe it was a hallucination brought on by inhaling the smoke from the herbs we were burning.

  But the other part of me, the part that knows I am very much awake and can feel the chilly night air in my lungs and the rush of blood pulsing through my skin can’t deny the surging ball of energy that is now dancing inside my body like a tornado.

  I still feel like me, only it’s like I’ve plugged in. It’s like something slid into place—a switch has been thrown inside me, a huge lever pulled from off to on, closing the loop on a dormant circuit and making my entire being come alive for the first time.

  Nessa helps me back to the house and up to my room. I pull out a pair of leggings and a tee shirt for her since our witchy-white nightgowns are filthy. My nightgown is actually torn and I’m covered in mud.

  I peel it off and toss it onto the floor, and turn on the shower. When I step in front of the mirror, try to wipe off a smear of mud from my chest, but it doesn’t come off. I lean in closer and grab a washcloth, soaking it under the faucet.

  I scrub at my chest, and I do manage to wash away some dirt, but what’s left looks like a tattoo.

  “Nessa?”

  She can tell by my tone that something’s wrong. She bursts into the bathroom and stares at my chest. “Whoa. What is that?” She runs her fingers over the mark as I lean into the mirror again.

  In the center of my chest, just below my collar bone, I have what looks like a tattoo of a black raven. It’s about the size of my hand. The raven’s wings are outstretched and its tail fans out behind it, the long center feathers dipping downward. The head is turned to the right and its curved beak is open just a little, as if it’s about to speak.

  I lay my hand on my chest, covering the raven. The energy inside me surges as if in response. “Oh my god,” I whisper.

  Chapter Two

  JOELY

  It takes a moment for me to register that the awful clanging of bells I’m hearing isn’t coming from inside my pounding head. Someone is at the door, and with my parents out of town bringing my sisters back up to school, they gave the staff the week off, so there’s only me. I roll myself off the couch where I’ve been since I got home just after dawn, and shuffle through the living room and the kitchen and out to the foyer. When I pull the door open, daylight sears into my eyeballs like a knife.

  The woman at the door looks like she stepped out of a high fashion magazine. She’s easily five inches taller than my five-foot-four. Her suit looks like it was made for her, the navy fabric hugging her slender figure and accentuating her long legs. The points of her white collared shirt are long and sharp, and black and silver cufflinks secure the starched cuffs peeking from her sleeves. Her blonde hair is cut in a perfect wedge, and her makeup is stunning, the smoky shadow accentuating the smoldering green of her beautiful eyes.

  I realize I’m staring and have to look away. “Can I help you?”

  She smiles warmly as she shifts onto one foot, sliding her hand in her pocket like she’s in a photo shoot. “Is this the home of Joelle Everstar?”

  I nod and instantly regret moving my head. “It is.”

  She arches her brows as if waiting for me to say more. “Is… Miss Everstar at home?”

  “Oh. I’m Joely,” I say, offering her my hand. “Sorry. I’m not thinking. Come in.” I step back and open the door, making room for her to come inside.

  Her hand is cool and dry in mine, and I’m suddenly glad that I showered and got dressed after Nessa left, even if I feel like my head is going to explode from the pounding.

  She steps into the foyer and produces a small business card, which she hands to me. The card is made from a shimmery paper and simply says her name, Daria North, on one side. The back of the card has an embossed black crest that looks like a shield with four swords crossing through a closed fist.

  “Miss Everstar, my name is Daria North and I am with the Society of Ancient Magic. I wonder if you have a moment to speak with me? I have some exciting things to share with you.”

  Part of me wonders if I am still in the crazy hallucination from last night, because this makes zero sense. “The Society?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “Of Ancient Magic?” I add, stupidly.

  She laughs softly. “So you’ve heard of us?”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. Everyone has heard about them. “Are you kidding?” To the magical community, the Society of Ancient Magic is the most exclusive club in the world. Membership is done by some mysterious secret lottery, with the names of those invited drawn using magic—or so they say. I’ve never met anyone who knows for sure, and there is plenty of rumor to go by. But one thing I do know is that being accepted into The Society is like a one-way ticket to the big time.

  The stories of The Society of Ancient Magic sound like something out of a fairy tale. My sisters have talked about things they’ve seen at their school, Blakeborne University, where The Society is based. They have masquerade balls, huge galas, secret events and competitions… they also have a direct line to the most famous and elite people of the world.

  “Ms. North. Would you like to sit down?” I step into the living room and wave her to take a seat. I sit across from her, waiting to hear what she has to say.

  “Call me Daria, please.”

  “Daria. All right. Are you here to see my parents? They’ve been up at Blakeborne dropping my sisters off, actually. Should be back soon.”

  She shakes her head. “Actually, I am here to see you. And mention of your sisters brings me to my first question. I looked you up before I came here and I see that you’ve been enrolled in Covington University for the past three years. May I ask why that is?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” The now familiar prickle of energy swirls in my ribcage and I feel the heat rising in my cheeks. It’s as if the magic is trying to say, I’m here! You can’t pretend to ignore me!

  Daria purses her lips and considers me for a moment. “Covington is for non-mages, as I am sure you know.”

  “Yes. I am aware.”

  “But you’re most definitely a mage.” It’s so matter of fact, the way she says it. Like it’s a commonly accepted fact like the sky is blue and my bespoke sui
t fits me like a glove… You’re most definitely a mage.

  How in the world does she know that when I’ve only just found out myself? “Ms. North…”

  “Daria,” she corrects me gently with a smile.

  I smile back at her, trying to decide what to say. “Daria, I only learned about…”

  The sound of tires crunching on gravel draws my attention to the door and makes my mouth go dry. I don’t have to look to know it’s my parents’ car. The familiar purr of the Bentley’s engine and the slow grind of tires on loose stone are as familiar to me as the ticking of the grandfather clock at the other end of the hall.

  I shoot to my feet, feeling nervous and jumpy under the scrutiny of Daria, her casual mention that I am a mage, and the imminent arrival of my parents.

  Shit.

  I had planned to sit my parents down and tell them everything. I thought I would have more time alone to gather my thoughts and explain what I’d done, how everything has changed.

  Daria gets to her feet as I step over to the window. Patterson, our driver, opens the door and my mother gets out of the car. She grabs my father’s hand, interlacing their fingers as they stroll toward the front door. He kisses her forehead and she smiles, the two of them clearly relaxed and enjoying the morning. The sight of them makes my stomach bunch into knots because I know that they aren't expecting anything like the bombshell I'm about to drop on them.

  I've gone over it about a thousand times in my head and I still really don't understand why am so nervous. I mean, aside from the fact that I shouldn’t have been using any spells in the first place, it's not like there's something wrong with being a mage, right? Didn’t my parents expect each of their children to be born with magic? Wasn’t the news of my being a nonner the thing that was unexpected? Won’t it be good news to learn that I am not a nonner after all? Logic tells me that they'll be happy, maybe even relieved. But I can't shake this feeling that something isn’t right.

  My parents climb the steps, still arm in arm as they make their way to the front door. I move to the foyer and lean against the large marble table in the center of the entry, rocking the flower arrangement that got delivered yesterday as part of the weekly order. I take a deep breath and my nose fills with the scent of stargazer lilies, which might be my least favorite flower smell in the world. I grip the edge of the table, my fingernails sliding along the smooth marble as the front door swings open and my parents step inside.

  “Good morning, darling. Your dad and I just had the most lovely drive through the countryside.” My mother kisses my cheek and squeezes me into a warm embrace.

  I hug her back, wondering momentarily if she can feel the magic running through my body. “How did it go with Eliza and Kate?” I ask, stalling with idle conversation.

  Mom smiles. “Oh, you know. They couldn’t wait for us to leave.”

  Dad arches an eyebrow at me, wondering why I'm asking about my sisters when he knows full well that we’ve never been close and I couldn’t care less what they are up to.

  “Whose car is that parked outside?” he asks.

  Mom places her purse on the table and spots Daria standing in the doorway to the living room. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize my daughter had company. I’m Layla, Joely’s mom. This is Ulysses.”

  I watch them introduce themselves and suddenly I feel like a little girl. Everything in me wants to turn and run up the stairs, throw myself onto my bed and cover my head with my pillow. But I know I have to face this. I am not a little kid anymore. I am twenty years old, for goodness sake, and I have to shake this sense of impending doom.

  “Ms. North,” my father says. “What brings you to Moorcliff?”

  We move back into the living room and they all take a seat. I’m so nervous, I decide to stand and pick a spot near the fireplace.

  Daria smiles. “I’m here on behalf of The Society of Ancient Magic.”

  My mother’s mouth drops open. “The Society? Is this about one of our girls?”

  Daria nods. “Indeed, it is.”

  Dad leans back in his chair. “This is unexpected.”

  Daria nods. “Justice Everstar, Mrs. Everstar, one of your daughters has been named in the lottery. I am here with an invitation.”

  Dad looks confused. “I’m sorry, forgive me, but my daughters have been at Blakeborne for some time. Eliza is in her third year, and Kate her second. Isn’t it unusual for an invitation to come this late?”

  She shakes her head. “Not really. It isn’t as controlled as that, though I confess, even I don’t understand how the members are selected.” She tilts her head conspiratorially. “It really is done by magic.” She glances over and winks at me.

  “I see,” Mom says. “Well, which of the girls has been named?”

  “Joelle Everstar is the name that brought me here today.”

  Mom glances at me, and then at my dad. “Joely? But how can that be? Our youngest is a non-mage.”

  Daria looks over at me as if she’s handing me the conversation baton.

  “Um, I need to talk to you guys.” I glance quickly at my parents. The morning sun beams through the tall narrow windows, spreading a grid of shadows across the hardwood floor. My mind races through all the ways to say what I need to say. I rehearsed this all morning with Nessa and now nothing feels right. I force myself to stop and close my eyes, balling my fists as I face them. I just have to come out and say it. Tear it off like a bandage. There's no point in delaying. There's no turning back.

  "Mom, Dad… I'm not a nonner anymore.” I grit my teeth and open my eyes slowly, bracing myself for their reaction. The two of them stare back at me, wide-eyed, as if they don’t understand what I just said.

  Mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “Whatever do you mean, darling?”

  Dad's face doesn't seem curious at all. He seems confused and maybe even a little worried. “Are you saying that your magic has sparked?”

  My heart is beating so hard it feels like it might explode. “Yes. It happened last night. I was…” I rub my palms on my jeans and run once more through the various scenarios I rehearsed, and then I stop.

  After Nessa and I got back at dawn, we spent most of the morning using my magic. Granted, I have no idea what I'm doing, but a lot of it feels completely instinctual, even if I ended up with this killer headache as a result. By the time Nessa left, I could barely hold my head up, it hurt so much.

  But before then, I’d moved furniture, lifted things off the floor and slid things across the room. I even lifted Nessa a few times, floating her from the floor to my bed and then back to the floor. Growing up in a house full of mages, I've been privy to all the lessons my sisters learned growing up. I understand the basic principles and how it is supposed to work, and I know some of the words they use to do things like levitate objects and move things that are otherwise too heavy to move by hand.

  The power inside me… It feels so ready. It's like all I have to do is think of a thing and the energy moves through my hands or through my lips and makes it happen. I don't know how to explain it.

  My parents are watching me, waiting for me to explain myself. So I decide to skip the long speech and just show them. I open my palms and imagine myself reaching out with my energetic hands and lifting the loveseat and chair my parents are sitting in off the floor. I'm so nervous about losing control and sending them flying, but this power feels so stable and true. I have to concentrate, but it still feels like something totally natural.

  Mom gasps and clutches a pillow as the sofa rises into the air. Dad’s chair hovers next to her, the two of them about five feet off the floor. Then I lower them down slowly. When the claw feet of the antique furniture touches down, Mom is laughing. But Dad has gone white.

  “Oh, Joely! Your magic has finally arrived. How unexpected. This is wonderful, darling.” She hurries across the room and pulls me into a warm hug. Then she grabs my face and looks into my eyes. “I'm so happy for you,” she whispers. “You know we never cared about your magic one way or the
other, but this is very exciting.”

  Daria clears her throat. “We’re excited too, The Society, and Blakeborne. We’re prepared to bring Joely into the fold before classes begin this term.”

  Tears prickle my eyes as I smile and let the relief washing through my chest and over my shoulders loosen the muscles that have been so tense since last night. “This is all so sudden, I was afraid you’d be angry.”

  My mom shakes her head and laughs. “Angry? Why would we be angry? Having magic is wonderful. Goodness, what a surprise!” She turns to look at my father. “Right, Ulysses?” She tilts her head and looks at my father, a wave of confusion crossing her features. “Uly? What’s wrong?”

  My dad gets to his feet and stands in front of Daria. “Ms. North, I am going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Daria looks surprised, but she stands up and heads for the door. As she passes me, she looks quickly into my eyes and I feel something press into the back pocket of my jeans.

  What the hell is going on? Why should Daria have to leave?

  “Dad?…”

  “Not a word, Joely.” There’s a hard edge to his voice that I’ve never heard from him before.

  “Daria, please wait a moment.” Mom seems as surprised as I am. “Ulysses, surely we can discuss…”

  “No!” My father’s shout echoes in the large room. He sighs as if gathering his wits about him. “There will be no discussion. Joely will not be attending Blakeborne University and she is certainly not going to join The Society. This is out of the question.”

  “I’ll see myself out,” Daria says.

  “Don’t talk about me as if I am not standing right here,” I say, barely able to speak above a whisper. This is so not how I thought this would go.

  Dad turns to me, his face dark and his eyes furious. “Joely. Go to your room.”

  “What?” He may as well have slapped me. The tears of relief turn to tears of anger, but I refuse to let them fall. I clench my jaw and glare at my father. I have no idea what the problem is, and I can’t stand how he’s talking to me, but he’s dead serious—more serious than I have ever seen him in my life.