Dark Arts (Society of Ancient Magic Book 1)

by Fiona Starr

  The three of us stand in the living room, staring at each other. The sounds of Daria’s car driving away fill the air, as if signaling the end of what has turned into the most bizarre conversation ever.

  “Ulysses? What’s going on?” Mom looks worried.

  “Not now, Layla!” He doesn’t even look at my mom, but instead turns to me. “Joely, I told you to go to your room.”

  “Dad…”

  “Now, damn it!”

  I can count on one hand the times I have witnessed my father raise his voice to anyone in anger. And I can’t remember him ever doing so to me. I can’t decide if I am more shocked at this or the fact that he’s treating me like a child.

  I decide it doesn’t matter. I’ll go to my room, but not only because he told me to. I’ll go because once I am alone, I can see what it is that Daria has slipped into my pocket.

  “Fine!” I say through gritted teeth as I turn on my heels and storm out of the room.

  Once in my room, I hurry to the window seat and pull the paper from my back pocket. It’s a thick envelope with my name written on it in ornate calligraphy.

  Joelle Evangeline Everstar

  The flap is sealed with a blob of dark blue wax.

  I break the seal and open the envelope, pulling out a packet of creamy paper. The first page is a letter.

  Dear Joelle,

  It is our distinct pleasure to invite you to join us at The Society of Ancient Magic. Your name has been called forth from the Vessel of Truth to take your place among the elite members of the magical community and claim your destiny.

  This invitation includes your acceptance as a student at Blakeborne University, where your tuition, room and board, and other expenses have been secured for the duration of your enrollment. It is our wish that there be no barriers for those who have been called.

  Inclusion in the Society of Ancient Magic is not only a privilege; it carries with it the weight of obligation as well as expectation. Nothing short of excellence will be accepted, should you claim your place with us.

  Should you choose to accept this invitation, please arrive at Blakeborne University no later than…

  The letter continues with logistics about where and when to show up. The next page is a packing list of things I will need, and also a list of what I won’t need. Basically, it says to pack an overnight back, and come as I am and they will see to the rest. The last thing in the envelope is an engraved invitation to a Welcome Gala. It has my name at the top and lists the time and place. A note on the bottom says that it is semi-formal, but that all my clothing needs will be seen to on campus once I arrive. I read it again. Crap. The gala is happening tonight.

  I drop the pages in my lap and lean my head back, trying to take it all in. An all-expense paid invitation to attend Blakeborne University and The Society of Ancient Magic? It doesn’t seem real. Why would anyone turn that down?

  I open my bedroom door and head back downstairs. I need to talk to my parents about all of this. Hopefully, my dad will explain what’s wrong. I pad down the first set of stairs and I walk along the landing that overlooks the foyer when my parents’ voices reach me.

  They are fighting.

  Mom’s voice sounds strained. “Ulysses, I don’t understand what the problem is. If Joely’s magic has finally arrived, why would you deprive her of this opportunity? Isn’t this what we would have wanted if she had been born with her magic?”

  “You don’t understand, Layla. Magic sparking at age twenty? It isn’t supposed to be this way. She wasn’t meant for this.”

  I grip the railing. Wasn’t meant for this? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

  “Well, if you’re going to put your foot down, then so am I.” I can’t see them from here, but I can imagine my mom shoving her hands onto her hips as she said that. “I demand that you explain to me why my mage daughter should not go to Blakeborne University with her sisters.”

  “By the gods, woman. Trust me when I say that she simply cannot go. We can… I don’t know. We can hire tutors to see to her magical education. She can continue her studies at Covington.” He steps into the foyer, my mom close at his heels.

  Mom throws her hands up. “Covington? Uly, you’re not making sense. A non-mage school is out of the question. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’d send her somewhere other than Blakeborne? She’s been offered a place at the most prestigious institution in the world. A place alongside her sisters. And you and I both know that The Society’s invitation is carte blanche, so don’t you dare try to tell me this is a financial concern. Joely’s magic is completely unexpected, but this? This is beyond anything we ever imagined for any of our girls. It’s The Society, darling.”

  “I can’t allow it, Layla. I simply can’t.”

  “Well, fortunately for Joely, she’s an adult and can make her own decisions.”

  “Layla…” It’s like he’s out of words. “I need some time. Make sure you’re both here when I return.”

  “I don’t understand what’s wrong. She’s a mage, dear.” Mom weaves her fingers through dad’s as if trying to ease his worries.

  Dad stiffens. “She was never supposed to be a mage.” He pulls away sharply and opens the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

  Chapter Three

  JOELY

  I hurry back to my room, my head spinning with what I just heard. What did my dad mean when he said I wasn’t supposed to be a mage? Wasn’t supposed to be? People don’t usually turn into mages on the fly. I mean, I have heard of non-mages having their magic spark unexpectedly before, but those stories are so rare… and how is someone not supposed to be a mage? How can my being a mage be a problem for anyone? It doesn’t make any sense at all. If anything, I would think it would make life easier for everyone, no?

  But something else that was said rings through my mind. My mother’s words… which are much more important to me at this moment.

  She’s an adult and can make her own decisions.

  Damn straight.

  I watch at the window, catching a glimpse of my dad to my right. He’s walking around the house in the direction of the garage and after a few minutes I see him drive off in one of his two-seaters, alone. Mom hasn’t come up since he left, and I decide that I am going to take her at her word.

  I dig into the back of my closet and grab a small suitcase and start packing. The letter from The Society made it clear several times that I didn’t need to bring much, but I toss in a couple of pairs of jeans and sweaters and the normal things I’d bring with me for an overnight anywhere. Then I push into the back of my closet and pull out a couple of dresses and a formal gown, just in case. I lay the garment bags on the bed next to my suitcase and fish around for all the shoes.

  When I am done, I look around one last time, more determined than ever that I have every right to do what I am about to do. I take a minute to write a note for my mom, and then one for Nessa. Then I open my bedroom door and slip into the hall and make my way down the back stairs to the staff wing and outside.

  My Lexus is right where it always is in the garage, and I never think twice about using it. But now my guilty conscience knows that I am basically running away and I can’t help but feel like a thief in the night, even though it’s just barely noon and I have every right to be here doing this.

  I drop my stuff into the trunk and get behind the wheel, feeling like I’m about to do something I can’t take back. I don’t understand why my dad was so angry about the idea of my going to Blakeborne University, or if it was the invitation to The Society of Ancient Magic that set him off… but the more I think about the conversation he had before he left, the more I think it has to do with something else entirely.

  She was never supposed to be a mage…

  What in the ever loving hell did he mean by that?

  Well, if nothing else, I have a three hour drive ahead of me to think about it. I punch the address of the school into the GPS and buckle my seatbelt. Mom will find the notes I lef
t for her and for Nessa in my room. I didn’t want to risk losing my nerve by talking to either of them about my plans, or take so long that my dad would be home before I could go.

  I ease the car out of the garage bay and crawl along the drive, careful not to gun the engine as I roll down the gentle hill of our driveway to the road.

  I have visited Blakeborne University dozens of times over the years. With both of my sisters enrolled here, I've lost count of the number of times I've come for family day or concerts or other special events around the holidays or other special occasions. I've never really paid attention to how beautiful it is until now.

  The sprawling campus is nestled at the base of the mountains north of the city. All the buildings are made from tawny, sand colored bricks with red-clay roofs that slope gently down. Some buildings have domes, and others have towers, some are ornately styled, and some seem more plain. All the buildings have a different feel despite being designed to match the colors of the others. The effect gives the campus a timeless air.

  I pull the car up to the check-in station at the front of the parking lot and roll down my window to talk to the volunteer waiting there. The guy looks like a student with a clipboard and the word volunteer written across the chest of his crimson T-shirt.

  “Good morning,” he says, his smile warm and friendly. “Checking in?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Joely Everstar.”

  “Everstar? Any relation to Katie Everstar?”

  “My sister.” Hearing him refer to her as Katie — a name we never call her at home, is jarring.

  “Right on.” He glances at his clipboard and makes a mark on the paper before handing me a purple card. “All right. Since this is your first year here, you’re going to head over to the purple group. If you drive down that way, toward the stadium side of the parking lot, you'll see a bunch of purple flags. Volunteers there will help you with the rest.” He leans down and looks at me, his blue eyes catching the morning sun. “Welcome to Blakeborne, Joely. It's going to be a great year.”

  I can't help but smile. The giddy warmth blooms inside me as the reality of all of this starts to settle in. My entire life I've spent wondering what it might be like to have actual magic. I always wished, just once, to be able to walk around in magical society and not be marked instantly as a nonner. I always thought of myself as happy, content with my place in life. Being a non-mage was just how it was. But now, I can't deny the fact that deep down part of me really wants this life.

  Chapter Four

  JOELY

  A smiling red-haired girl wearing a purple volunteer shirt greets me as I get out of my car.

  “Welcome to Blakeborne. You’re new?”

  “Yeah. My first day.” I glance around at the campus and the students milling around.

  “Well, welcome. I’m Ingrid. I’m a third-year.” She smiles and lifts her clipboard. “What’s your name?”

  “Joely Everstar.”

  She looks at her clipboard. “Everstar… Everstar… You must be Eliza and Katie’s sister? I live across the hall from Eliza. She didn’t mention you were going to be coming this year.” She spots my name and then smiles even wider. “Oh wow. You’re in Rubydown Dorm. That’s on the other side of the quad. So, you’re going to join The Society then?” She looks at me as if awed.

  “Did someone say Rubydown?” A blonde-haired girl about my height hurries over from the volunteer table. “You must be Joelle Everstar?”

  “Joely. Yes.”

  “Joely? I like it.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Rosamund, but everyone calls me Roz. I’ve been hovering around here waiting for you to arrive. After talking to Daria this morning, I wasn’t sure if you were coming today or tomorrow, or not at all.”

  Ingrid scoffs. “Like anyone would turn down The Society.”

  “I know, Right?” Roz grins at Ingrid and then holds a hand out in front of me. “Keys.”

  It takes a second for me to catch up with her. “You want my keys?”

  “Yup. Someone will bring your bags to your room and park your car in the student lot. But now that you’re here, we have some things we have to do right away.” She wiggles the fingers of her empty hand.

  I hand her my keys and she hands them to Ingrid.

  “Do I need to bring anything with me?”

  “Your purse if you want, but you won’t need it. Everything will be brought to your room.”

  I slip my phone into my pocket and leave my purse behind. “All right then. I guess I’m ready.”

  Ingrid smiles. “Don’t worry about your stuff, Joely. You’re in good hands.”

  “And good arms, too.” Roz hooks her arm out for me. “Shall we?”

  “Thank you, Ingrid.” I loop my arm through Roz’s. “Where to?”

  “Well, since you’re here in time for tonight’s welcome party, we have no time to waste. First stop, Maurice, then I’ll show you the dorm.” Roz taps my hand and guides me onto the sidewalk.

  “Who is Maurice?” I ask.

  “You’ll see.”

  Ingrid calls out after us, “Have fun!”

  Roz points out all the buildings and people we pass as we cross campus. The paths and lawns are full of students and faculty, everyone visiting and chatting. We don’t stop to talk to anyone, and I have to walk faster than I normally would to keep Roz’s pace.

  She points to a building with a pair of towers on either end and a wide staircase in the center leading to two gigantic doors. “That’s the dining hall, Morris Hall is open all the time for whatever you want.” She points to our left. “Not to be confused with the academic building, Stonemill Hall. That’s where most of the lecture rooms are. Next to that is the library.” She tilts her head back and looks down her nose, speaking in a stuffy nasal voice. “Pemberfield Library for the Study of Natural Magic.”

  “Sounds fancy,” I say.

  “Eh. It’s a library. The Pemberfield family is very proud of it, with good reason, I’ll give them that. But they are rather precious about it at the same time.”

  “Oh.”

  “Two of the Pemberfield spawn go here at the moment. Twins, Brigit and Finneas. I’m sure you’ll meet them. We make a point of mentioning the library whenever they are around. We all call it P-Field just to annoy them.”

  “Ouch!” I say.

  She laughs and waves my concern away. “Oh, trust me, they need all the ribbing we can give them. Think of it as a small contribution to society.”

  We turn on the path and Roz guides me along a wrought-iron gate that opens onto a wide courtyard lined by tall trees. Dappled shade gives the yard a hidden-away feel.

  Roz opens the door to the second cottage in the row. “Maurice is in here.”

  Maurice turns out to be a hunched old woman with a puff of cottony white hair that sits like a cloud on top of her head. She steps out from the back room, parting a thick curtain with a wave of her hand. She makes a bee-line for me and grabs my hand, pulling me toward a raised platform in the center of the room surrounded by tall mirrors.

  “Come, come. Time is something none of us has much of.” She whips out a measuring tape and gets to work, wrapping it around various places on my body with an expert’s speed.

  She steps back and eyes me. “Judging by your attire today, I guess you’re more into comfort than style?”

  I don’t think I should tell anyone that I threw on whatever was handy before I ran away from home. So I try the next most-reasonable response to explain how casual I am. “I thought I’d be moving in and cleaning today.”

  “I see. Well, you don’t get much in the way of choices when it comes to your robes, but I am curious to know what you prefer for everyday wear. What about something like this?” She points to the mirrors and when I look up, my ratty jeans and tee are gone, replaced by a black slacks and a white button-down shirt, green vest, and black and white Oxfords.

  “Oh, wow. I like that.” I look down at my shoes and I’m bummed to see I’m still dressed in my old things
.

  “And what about this?” She waves her hand and another outfit appears, this one a tailored suit with a fitted jacket and a miniskirt that flares off my hips.

  “Oh, wow!” I exclaim. “That’s gorgeous.”

  We spend over an hour going through various looks and styles, discussing color preferences, fabric choices, and the overall feel that I want. I’ve never thought about myself as having a style, but Maurice insists that everyone does, they just don’t explore it.

  Finally, Maurice declares she has enough information to go on. She shoos us away, letting me know that everything will be delivered soon.

  When we step out of the shop, I am in such a daze, I walk right into a wall of man chest. The hint of woody aftershave and a touch of citrus fills my senses. My hands grab his waist reflexively, and he wraps his arm around me to keep me from falling backward. My momentum makes me lean back and it’s as if we’re dancing and he’s lowering me into a dip.

  He’s about a foot taller than me, built lean and strong like a baseball player, with blue eyes and long-ish dark hair that’s been brushed back off his face. He’s absolutely gorgeous but guarded. He doesn’t smile as he plants me back on my feet.

  “Sorry, I should have been more careful,” he says, his voice low and soft.

  “No, it’s my fault. I came rushing out without looking.” My heart races as he slides his hands off my hips.

  “Hi, Van,” Roz says. “Why the long face?” She grins wickedly and arches an eyebrow at me.

  He scowls at her. “Roz.”

  “This is Joely. She’s new this year.”

  Van looks back at me and when our eyes meet, it’s like he’s looking through me and into my soul. “Joely. Nice to meet you.”

  I nod. I can still feel the heat where his fingers brushed my sides. It makes me want to reach out for him again, though I would never do it, especially with how his body language tells me that it would be a mistake.