by Cara Wylde
“Thank you.”
“What’s your name?” Lorna asked.
It was a good thing I’d taken the mage with me. I couldn’t have done this on my own.
“Yoli.”
“Yoli, I think you and Mila might be related.”
That snapped me out of my trance. What the fuck, Lorna? Yoli’s eyes grew big and curious. She was looking at me now, more attentively than before, and I could tell she could see the resemblance.
Lorna elbowed me again. “Same hair, same eyes… Well, Mila dyes hers blue, as you can see.” She turned to me. “And you told me you’ve got family around here. Bulgarians have huge, extended families.” She turned back to Yoli. “What’s your last name?”
“Aleksiev.”
“Mila’s is Angelov.”
Yolanda shook her head. She didn’t know anyone in her extended family named Angelov. Lorna to the rescue!
“Your mother, Anelia, had a cousin, Katerina. Do you remember her?”
“I was too little,” she said in a tiny voice. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Well, Anelia had you, and Katia had Mila. So, you’re second cousins.”
The girl thought hard for a second, then furrowed her blond brows.
“How do you know my mother’s name?”
Lorna blinked, lost for a moment. I could have slapped her. Instead, I took over.
“I put together a tentative family tree, recently. I was born in Bulgaria, but then a nice family adopted me, and we moved to the US when I was little.”
“If you live in America, what are you doing here?” From the tone of her voice, I could sense that she thought America was the land of the free. Was that why she’d learned to speak English? If only she knew how trapped I felt there…
“I wanted to find out what happened to my mother.”
“Did she die?” The frankness that was so specific to children…
I hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
“Mine died.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded, took her gift, and went to sit at a table in a corner of the room. She opened the book, looked at the pictures, then went back to page one and started coloring.
“That went well,” Lorna said.
I needed some air. I left the mage with the children and stepped out for a minute. It smelled like winter. In Bulgaria, snow came late in the year, right before Christmas, if they were lucky. Now that I’d talked to Yoli, now that I knew who she was, where she was, and that she was real, there was one thing left to do. It didn’t even matter that I had yet to figure out if she was a dream jumper or not. I couldn’t leave her here. She was family. Distant family, but still.
In the next few weeks, Lorna and I visited Yoli at the orphanage a couple more times. Once, we forgot we were wearing our uniforms, and Yoli asked about the strange color combination – red and black. I couldn’t tell her about the Academy, about what we were actually studying, and that the world was full of supernaturals. That time would come, but not yet, not when she was so far from me, and I couldn’t watch and protect her.
One the one hand, I couldn’t wait any longer. Morningstar was out there, doing God knew what, and my mom was waiting for me. On the other hand, how was I going to break it to my adoptive parents? Would they take Yoli in? Maybe if they got something in exchange… The truth.
* * *
“Detention!”
“What?” I tried to catch up with Lorna, who was storming down the corridor toward the last class of the day.
“Detention, Mila! I got detention!”
“I don’t understand. No one gets detention at Grim Reaper Academy. It’s not even a thing.”
She turned on her heels, and I almost bumped into her.
“Apparently, my parents check in with Headmaster Colin every few weeks. They ask about my grades and worth score. They found out I’ve been skipping with you, so of course I get detention and you don’t, because you’re Mila fucking Morningstar, and you’re on a quest to save the world. Rules don’t apply to you.”
I was stunned.
“So, thank you! I’m the first student in the history of the Academy to get detention!”
She stomped away, her long black hair whipping behind her angrily. She had Geography, I had Introduction to Dream Traveling. Professor Ivanov was listing the telling signs of an impending OBE, but I couldn’t pay attention. Stealing glances around me, I noticed everyone was whispering about Lorna Chiaramonte and laughing at her expense.
“How stupid can you be to get detention at Grim Reaper Academy?”
“No one ever skips classes. Except for Mila and Lorna.”
“Do you think they’re hot for each other?”
Snickers and filthy remarks.
“Oh, I wanna see that,” Merrit said, probably already imagining us kissing.
“No,” said Raziel. “Lorna is fucking Mila because it’s the closest she’ll ever get to Sariel.”
Since Sariel had lost his wings, all the other angels and archangels at the Academy saw him as a pariah.
“Maybe if she fucks her good, Mila will let her have a go at Sariel.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Paz stood up, his eyes throwing red flames at Raziel and Merrit. Merrit, who was a mage and very confident in his powers, grinned at him defiantly. “I will come over there, cut out your tongue, and…”
“And what? Feed it to the dogs? That’s how the threat goes.” Merrit laughed. “I see no dogs around.”
Paz threw his chair out of the way and took a couple of steps toward the mage. Professor Ivanov stepped between them, her tiny, shaking frame not even registering as an obstacle in Paz’s mind. He could only see two things: red, and Merrit’s moronic face. I stood up, too, and so did GC. Francis sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, watching the whole scene with very little interest. Corri flappity-flapped on his shoulder, away from the danger.
“Paz, he’s not worth it.” I touched his arm, but he shrugged me off.
I thought GC would help, but what he did was to gently approach Mrs. Ivanov and convince her to get out of Paz’s way.
“Professor, you can’t just step between a demon and a mage. I hope you don’t feel like calling a Grim Reaper for your soul.”
She looked at him with fearful eyes. “This is my class. I have to…”
“Step aside,” GC said, kindly. “Please.”
He was a false god, and she was only human. The only human in the room. And in that moment, I felt for her. I’d been the only human among supernaturals for so long, and I knew how she felt. Helpless. The moment she moved out of Paz’s way, the demon lunged at Merrit, grabbing him by the throat. Merrit spat in his face, then placed his hand on his chest and murmured something. A flash of light exploded under his hand, throwing Paz a few feet in the air. He landed onto a desk, smashing it to pieces.
“Stop!” Professor Ivanov yelled. “Don’t make me take your worth points!”
No one cared about worth points, though. GC growled low in his chest, and when I realized what he was about to do, I almost fainted. Granted that revenants didn’t faint.
“GC, no!”
Too late. His uniform tore under his shifting muscles. He grew three times in size as his body morphed into the body of a strong golden bull. Students ran out of the classroom, while others took out their phones. The bull let out a cry of rage, hit the floor with his hoof, and pushed a couple of desks with his horns.
“Come on, beast!” Merrit laughed. He snapped his fingers, and a red scarf appeared out of nowhere.
Briefly, I wondered whether he’d gone insane. He’d never been the brightest egg in the basket, but I thought he was sensible enough not to get into a fight with a demon and a shapeshifter.
GC couldn’t resist the red scarf that was being offensively waved in his face. He lunged, and Merrit moved out of the way. GC hit the wall, tearing half of it down.
“Oh my God!” Even I
was afraid to be caught in the middle, and I wasn’t human anymore!
Merrit repeated the trick, and GC lunged again, this time breaking the professor’s desk in two. Mrs. Ivanov wasn’t in the classroom anymore. She’d run off to get help. The commotion had alerted half of the school, and students from classes down the hall had gathered in the doorway to see what the fuss was about.
“GC, stop! Merrit, knock it off!”
“So, are you fucking Lorna or not?” he yelled.
“You piece of shit…” Paz took Merrit by surprise. The mage’s face met the demon’s fist. “You don’t talk to her like that.” He hit him again.
Merrit teleported away from Pazuzu. Neat trick. What wasn’t as neat was his choice to teleport right behind Francis. He leaned over his shoulder to whisper in his ear.
“I honestly thought you were gay or asexual, Saint-Germain. Is it true the normie has a magic pussy?”
“You… you… Just say the word, Mistress!” Corri yelled in her tiny voice, flying in circles and showing Merrit her little fists.
I didn’t have time to react, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have known what to do. In a fraction of a second, Francis’s fingers were digging into Merrit’s throat, wrapping right around his jugular. The mage’s eyes bulged, his hands flying to grab Francis’s wrist and pull himself free. It was no use. Merrit coughed and spluttered, saliva gathering at the corners of his mouth. Francis didn’t let go. On the contrary, his fingers dug deeper, until Merrit’s blood started pooling underneath his nails. It was the revenant’s turn to whisper in the mage’s ear. And the whole classroom had gone so silent that everyone could hear it.
“Paz said you shouldn’t talk to her like that, and I happen to agree with him. How about you apologize, Castegny?”
Merrit was scratching at Francis’s arm, but it was as if Francis didn’t feel any pain.
“I’ll let you go now. If you don’t apologize, then I’ll come to your room tonight and finish what I started.”
Merrit had tears in his eyes. He nodded as best as he could, and when Francis released him, he fell on his back, his body shaking under a coughing fit that seemed to go on forever. He wrapped his hands around his neck, trying to stop the bleeding.
Francis was studying his red fingernails. “Well, Castegny?”
“I’m sorry,” Merrit croaked. He found my gaze and held it, which said a lot about how much Francis had scared him. “I’m sorry I was a jerk.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s not your fault your mother made you a jerk, Merrit. But you will do better next time, won’t you?”
The mage nodded his head, coughing.
We all got detention, and our worth scores dropped by 100.
“We couldn’t leave you here by yourself,” I winked at Lorna.
She eyed me boredly. “What did the pixie do?”
“This is my first detention,” Corri chirped. “I’m excited!”
“Nothing. She just wanted to be included.”
“Zip it, ladies, or this won’t be the last time,” Professor Halo warned us, not taking his eyes off his phone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As much as I hated it, Yoli would have to wait. For one, I hadn’t yet gathered the courage to call my adoptive parents after so many months of treating them like shit. Lena still tried to call me once every two weeks, and sometimes I answered and chatted about nothing in particular for a few minutes, but most times I switched my phone to silent and pretended I was busy. I was afraid that if I talked to them or saw them, they’d see how I’d changed. Lena was religious, so I didn’t even want to think how she’d react if she knew I’d been dead, and now I was alive. And no, Jesus hadn’t been the one to resurrect me. And Stepan… He’d beaten himself up so hard for almost letting Morningstar kill me when I was a child... He’d even beaten me for it, although that would never make sense in my head.
That wasn’t the only reason. I’d also failed two tests – one in Anthropology and one in Psychology – and my worth score was almost down to 0. I wasn’t doing great, and the professors were kind of fed up with the whole “Mila is saving the world” story. It wasn’t working anymore. I’d ignored my homework, my projects and presentations, and now I was paying for it. My grades this semester were a disaster. So, Yoli would have to wait.
I didn’t even go to the Halloween party. As usual, Pandora and the girls organized it on the hidden beach. I locked myself up in my room, and Sariel and Francis joined me. We studied for Geography together, then, obviously, had sex. It was more sensual and languid with the Fallen One and the revenant. GC and Paz tended to be pushy, demanding, and jealous of each other. Sariel and Francis understood each other through simple nods and gestures. It was as if they had their own secret language they’d made up over years of friendship. That night, I climbed on top of Francis and kissed him all over, as Sariel took me slowly from behind. We took a bath together, and we made love again.
GC and Paz had been more interested in the Halloween party, getting drunk, and punching Merrit in the face again when the mage said some shit about how I was now in love with Sariel and Francis, and they were out. Corri told me all about it in the morning.
The next week after Halloween, Professor Maat took us to Goblin Mountain, which was, in fact, a mine accessible through the Appalachian Mountains, and wasn’t called Goblin Mountain at all.
“Avaa Yuoa Saavi Lom,” Mrs. Maat told us. “It means Marvelous Sanctuary of the Ancestors in their language.”
“That’s a stupid name,” GC commented.
“You will see that goblins love their pompous adjectives as much as they love their gold.”
“We don’t understand their ridiculous language anyway.”
“Mr. Apis, maybe you’d like to go back.”
“No, ma’am.”
The Carnelian City and Goblin Mountain were the most isolated pocket universes we’d visited so far. The Seelie and the Unseelie had plenty of contact with our universe, so they spoke English. Heaven and Hell had both given up using Latin centuries ago, and now English was the lingua franca. In the Carnelian City, though, very few people spoke English, and the goblins had no sense for the language whatsoever. Their own language was too tonal and vowely, which made it almost impossible for them to pronounce our hard consonants. But it didn’t matter. We only visited these places so we’d know where to go when we’d be called to reap here. It was sort of like adding new maps to our inner teleportation GPS. It was done half intentionally, half subconsciously. Once we graduated – well, some of us, because there were only twenty-two Reapers and we were one hundred students, – among the gifts we’d be granted, the gift of the languages was of major importance. I’d heard that in the very beginnings of Grim Reaper Academy, the study of the various languages had been a big deal, but the Council soon realized it was basically impossible for anyone to learn so damn many. So, they gathered a team of mages and tasked them with finding a more reasonable solution. The mages came up with a potion. I could only hope it didn’t taste too bad.
“Don’t stare,” Professor Maat reminded us.
The goblins hated it when we stared. They were short, ugly creatures, covered in rough, darkish skin from head to toe. But that wasn’t the reason why they didn’t want us to stare. They didn’t think of themselves as ugly.
“They’re very possessive of their treasures. Don’t look at their exquisite clothes and brilliant jewelry.”
“Professor, I’m afraid this adjective-heavy thing they suffer from is contagious,” GC chuckled. “You’ve used pompous, exquisite, and brilliant.”
The sphinx furrowed her elegant brows. “And you’ve used stupid and ridiculous, Mr. Apis. Maybe we should get you a thesaurus for your birthday.”
“As long as it’s an awe-inspiring, gregarious thesaurus…”
I smacked him over the head. “That’s not what gregarious means.”
The goblins were dressed to impress. I’d always
associated people working in the mines with dirt, sweat, and rags. Every day, I learned a new thing. And today I learned that one could work in the mines while covered in thick gold bracelets, diamond necklaces, and ruby rings. The goblin ladies were dressed in fancy gowns, and the gentlemen wore silk shirts, velvet tunics, and a sort of tight pants that made them look rather funny. I tried my hardest not to stare. It was hot as Hell down here – literal Hell – but they pranced about like there was nothing wrong. They were probably used to the heat and stuffy air. As for the work they did, they weren’t actually digging the tunnels themselves. They had heavy machinery they programmed and maneuvered. Quite a technologically advanced race…
Their homes were grottos they’d carved in the walls and decorated with precious stones, silver, and gold. They didn’t have doors, and they covered the entrances with beautifully embroidered carpets. For food, they raised small animals that looked like rats, cats, and wild rabbits in cages. There was an underground river crossing their mine, and they worshipped it like it was the center of their world.
“It’s their only source of water, so they drink, bathe, and wash their clothes in this river.”
We’d stopped on its rocky shore. Here and there, between the rocks, blades of grass popped up from the mushy sand.
“They use this herb for salad.”
“They are so poor,” I noticed in a bare whisper. “It just struck me. They have mountains of gold and precious stones, but they are so, so poor. Don’t they trade with other pocket universes? I bet they could trade with our world.”
Nefertari Maat gave me a kind smile. “Too selfish. The only thing they have to trade is their gold, and they’d rather die than part with it.”
“What about those beautiful gowns and carpets?”
“Weaved with gold thread. Same thing.”
“I pity them.”
“Remember when I told you there are worse places than Hell? This is one of them.”
Indeed. I needed a breath of fresh air. I needed the sun.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Everyone was getting ready for the Yule Ball. I could have invited my adoptive parents, and they might have accepted, but was that smart? Was I ready?
