Academy of Magic Collection

by Angelique S Anderson et al.

  “No, you will be on your own. Will that be alright?”

  It was the best news she had all day. She bit back a grin. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  Principal Shelley scribbled more notes on her planner.

  Jess stepped forward, her fingers already twitching for magic. “May I go?”

  Principal Shelley waved her away. “Yes, of course. Stop at my secretary’s desk on your way out. Her name is Ms. Hazel. She’ll tell you what to do.”

  At the first desk outside the office, Jess did as she had been instructed. “Ms. Hazel, ma’am? My name is Jess Roberts.”

  The stooped woman at the desk peered through thick glasses. She looked as though she’d been sitting at the secretary’s desk for a century. She blinked. “Ah, yes, the little fire-starter.”

  Jess’s mouth fell open, and she didn’t know how to respond…

  Until the grandmotherly woman winked. “But, today, my name is Ziva.”

  Jess scowled at the name plate on the desk. It said Ms. Hazel Boom. “You want me to call you Ziva?”

  “It’s my name, isn’t it?”

  Jess hesitated. The old woman wasn’t making any sense, but what difference did it make? “Sure,” Jess agreed. “How are you today, Ziva?” She emphasized the name.

  Ziva chuckled. “Listen. Despite how they’ll make you feel about it, you’re not the first student to catch something on fire here at New Haven High.”

  “What do you mean? Who else did it?” Probably not by self-combustion, though.

  Ziva put a hand beside her mouth and leaned forward. “Shelley.”

  “The Principal?” Surprise made her voice shrill.

  The old woman nodded. “I used to be her teacher… long ago.” She leaned back. “But I’m not supposed to tell that story, you know, and we’re all supposed to pretend as though everything is just what it seems on the outside.” She paused then awkwardly patted Jess’s shoulder. “Even though we know it isn’t.”

  Jess didn’t know whether to confess everything or feign confusion. Does she know about me? What should she say? Anything? Who was this secretary?

  The secretary tsked. “Now, now, let me get the key.” She opened the pencil drawer and retrieved a golden key, hanging from a bright red ribbon.

  “You keep the basement locked?” Jess asked.

  “We keep all unused rooms locked.”

  “Why?”

  Her smile made her eyes squint. “Naughty students ruin things for everybody else. At least when they’re the wrong kind of naughty.” She dropped the key in Jess’s hand.

  The metal felt cold against Jess’s palm, and she closed her hand around it. She frowned. “Do I need to give you my cell? I’ve heard…” Jess’s voice trailed away.

  Ziva glanced up. “Of course not.”

  “Okay…” Jess drew out the word. It was the strangest detention she’d ever heard of… Not that she’d been sentenced before. “So where is this basement?”

  Ziva pointed an arthritis-gnarled finger at the ground. “It’s the basement, so it’s beneath us.”

  “Makes sense,” Jess said.

  The old woman winked. “Lots of good stuff down there. I’ll come get you thirty minutes after the bell rings.”

  Jess waited. “Do I just go?”

  She’d already gone back to poking letters on her keyboard. “Yes, yes, go.”

  “But…”

  “What is it, girl?”

  “How do I get there?”

  “Oh. Once you leave here, go to the nearest bathrooms. There’s a third door.”

  “I don’t remember a third door.”

  Ziva glared over her glasses. “Nevertheless, there is a third door. Use the key. Take lots of selfies, and have a nice time.”

  “A nice time?” Jess echoed. “I thought it was detention.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps.” She tapped her wrinkled chin. “There was something I meant to tell you.” She raised a hand. “Oh, yes, now I remember. Repeat after me…”

  Jess nodded.

  “Monkey see, monkey do.”

  “Is this a joke?”

  “Don’t waste my time, girl.”

  Jess sighed. The woman had gone crazy. “Monkey see, monkey do.”

  “Good, good.” Ziva paused. “Remember to trust anybody called professor more than you trust anyone called colonel.”

  Jess stared. “What are you talking about?”

  At that, Ms. Ziva waved Jess away, and Jess started toward the bathrooms.

  Chapter Four

  Move In

  Bayburgh

  They hit another pothole in the middle of the Bay Ridge Drive, and the vehicle shuddered, setting off the squeak that they could never get oiled. Ten years past its prime, the older Ford sedan had as many dings and dents as the neglected road they traveled on.

  His dad patted the dashboard. “She’s not as easy on the ass as she used to be.”

  Rase gave the obligatory chuckle that the old joke required. He wasn’t arriving in the limo of a trust fund baby. His chariot might not make it past the River Bridge.

  If scholarships happened regularly, maybe the other students would be used to having “have not’s” around, and he wouldn’t be teased too much about being from the poorer side of the tracks. In addition to the coconut bra, he’d brought along every dollar he had. Besides the pennies, it amounted to about two hundred bucks.

  Once emptied, the piggy bank had seemed forlorn somehow, staring sadly after Rase as he hefted his bags and climbed into the car, but it didn’t matter. Rase would pay everything he had to learn about his creature-communication powers. The first question he planned to ask Blackfox was where the magic came from.

  His dad flipped the radio dial to the AM bandwidth, and an indignant man’s voice filled the car. Three words in, his dad had already disappeared into the daily recap of the news. The city streets became wild grasses as they left Bayburgh city limits behind.

  Rase turned toward the bay, studying the shimmering waves. A sailboat sliced across the surface. For all he knew, a mermaid city might exist beneath.

  Jess would make a good mermaid.

  No, she wouldn’t want to be a mermaid. They were too soft. She would say she would make a good siren, luring foolish men to their deaths. He smirked at the thought.

  Before he’d met the Jekyll-Hyde dragon, he’d have thought himself insane for imagining such a thing. Now? Anything is possible.

  The blinker click filled the air, and the automobile shuddered again as they left the main thoroughfare and turned onto a graveled county road. Tha-thump. They hit the first of several potholes, and Rase rocked side to side as his father swerved in an attempt to avoid another mini-ditch in the meandering drive.

  Tha-thump.

  “Got it,” Rase said.

  His dad winced. “Bullseye.”

  The lane curved around a large copse of trees. Rase peered between the trunks, anxious to see where the way led. Another turn exposed a long stone walls, broken only by two matching columns with a metal sign that stretched from one to the other. It read Preparatory Academy for the Remarkable.

  A two-story tall wrought-iron gate blocked the way, stretching from column to column. A glowing keypad reached up from the manicured lawn like a black mental arm. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as they rolled to a stop.

  “What do we do?” his dad asked.

  Rase shrugged. “Ring the bell, I guess.”

  His dad’s face split in a smile, and he soft-punched Rase in the shoulder. “I’m going to miss you, kiddo. I’m proud of you.”

  Rase grinned. “Thanks. Way to make it awkward.”

  His dad chuckled and eased to a stop beside the keypad and turned the radio volume down. “You’ll understand some day when you have a kid. Awkward is the only way to go.”

  Rase soft-punched his dad’s shoulder. Easier than getting all blubbery. “Sure, Dad. I’ll miss you, too.”

  His dad mashed the big circle button, and colorful LED
s lit up all over the keypad. A moment later, a man answered in a nasally voice with a cultured accent… faintly British, Rase decided.

  “May I help you?”

  His dad grinned into the tiny lens above the button. “Ah, yes, my name is William Flannigan. I am delivering one of your students.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, Rase Abacus Flannigan. He’s entering as a senior with,” his dad paused and wagged his eyebrows at Rase, “a scholarship.”

  Rase rolled his eyes. “Dad. Don’t. I’m not the only kid with a scholarship.”

  “But you’re the one who got the only open spot this year.”

  “Dad. Stop.”

  His dad chuckled. “May we come in?”

  The voice on the other side harrumphed. “Yes, sir. Please come in.”

  The two sides of the giant gate split and swung inward. The hinges squeaked, long and low, as it opened. The sound made Rase shudder… trepidation or excitement, he couldn’t tell which.

  His dad gripped the steering wheel. “Here we go. A mile to the top of the hill.”

  They started down the driveway. Rase shifted in the seat.

  His dad turned off the radio. “Excited?”

  Impatient. Scared to death. Embarking on a new adventure…

  Instead, Rase said, “Yeah.”

  They negotiated the remaining curves in silence. When they came through a line of trees, the top of the hill came into view. A large, rambling manor rested at the crest, overlooking forested acres of front yard. To the rear of the structure, in the center, a tower rose into the sky. One wing went south at a diagonal and the other wing went north.

  An ivy vine covered the majority of the house. The lane formed a circle drive with a fountain in the center. Water sparkled in droplets, raining down into the basin at the bottom. A dozen steps led to the entrance to the building. To the right, a large, painted sign declared Preparatory Academy for the Remarkable.

  His dad whistled as they both climbed from the car. “Some place you’ve got here.”

  “It’s like a park,” Rase said. “With the biggest house I’ve ever seen. It’s bigger than Jess’s.”

  The front door opened, and a man dressed in a formal suit stepped out. He paused on the top step. “Good afternoon, sirs. Please come in.” He bowed slightly and gestured toward the house.

  “Dad, there’s a butler.”

  “I see him, Rase.”

  “What do I do?”

  “I don’t know. Get your bags, I guess.”

  They both stood, gaping at their surroundings.

  The butler paused, but then he moved toward the bags.

  Finally, Rase spoke. “No, please, don’t. I’ll get them.” To his father, he said, “I feel like I’m five and meeting grownups for the first time.

  His dad snorted. “Get your bags.”

  The butler cleared his throat, and the sound jolted Rase out of his reverie. He opened the rear door, grabbed two suitcases, and a backpack. “This is everything.”

  “May I take that for you, sir?”

  Rase shook his head. “I got it.”

  The butler led them up the steps and into the expansive foyer. Everything ornate and wooden had been polished and buffed until it shined. A large chandelier hung from the center of the room.

  About Rase’s eye-level, a cubby had been fixed to the wall. It had twelve shelves, each one numbered. Some contained stacks of papers and others contained only keys. The butler gestured toward it and then took a set of keys from the ten slot. “This is where school communications and your mail will be placed. You may place outgoing mail on the top, and I will see that it’s posted.”

  Rase shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and he gritted his teeth. Should I bow? Every word out of the butler seemed so formal.

  “Thanks,” his dad interjected, saving Rase from embarrassing himself.

  The silence filled the space between.

  The butler held up the keys, and they jangled. “If you’re ready, sirs, I’ll show you to your quarters.” The butler looked to Rase’s father for permission, but the older man glanced at Rase.

  Rase shrugged. “Sure.”

  They made their way up an ornate staircase. “We have several rooms. The young men have the upstairs to the north and the young ladies have the upstairs to the south. Don’t confuse the two. Colonel Blackfox maintains residence at the end of the hall in the second-floor master suite. You’ll meet our housekeeper and several of the other students at dinner tonight.”

  “Are there many students?”

  “Currently, we have fifteen enrolled. First-year students are asked to arrive on Thursday before classes begin. The extra day seems to help calm their nerves before start of school on Monday morning.”

  They continued down a long hall until they reached a door with a number ten plaque fastened to it.

  The butler opened the door. “Your roommate doesn’t arrive for two weeks. He’s in his second year here, but he’s attending a wedding celebration with his family in India.”

  A large room had been split into two sides, each side a mirror image of the other. Two beds, two desks, two bookshelves. One large, picture window overlooked the front lawn. Books filled the shelves to the right. Notebooks rested on the desk, and posters covered the walls.

  “His name is Agon. As you can see, he’s already comfortable on the other side, so Colonel Blackfox requests that you take the open bed.”

  Rase’s dad cleared his throat. “Looks great, doesn’t it?” When his voice cracked, Rase noticed the tears in his father’s eyes.

  The butler took two steps to the left. “The bath is just here.”

  Dad cleared his throat again. “Thank you.”

  He moved to a large window on the far side of the room. He opened one side of the window. “You also have a small balcony. For sunrises and sunsets and fresh air.”

  His dad elbowed him. “How great is that?”

  The butler closed the door. “Please review the balcony rules. We consider the balcony a privilege. If abused, access will be denied.”

  Rase nodded his head. It probably wasn’t the time to announce he hated heights. The idea of hanging out on a balcony didn’t seem relaxing at all. His stomach already rebelled at the thought.

  “Thank you,” he managed. “I understand.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, sirs, I have another matter to attend to.”

  Rase dropped his bags in the middle of the room. “Thanks… mister… butler?”

  He bowed at the waist. “You can call me Hobson, sir.”

  “Thank you, Hobson,” father and son said together.

  They didn’t speak, listening as Hobson’s footsteps faded in the distance.

  Rase moved his bags from the hardwood floor to the bed. “Well,” he said, almost afraid to look at his father.

  “Yeah, well,” Dad answered. “It’s that time.”

  Rase hated the way his chin quivered. He hadn’t cried since he didn’t know when, but, faced with the absence of his dad, he couldn’t help it. “I don’t like goodbyes,” he said.

  “Me, either, kiddo.”

  “Dad, I—”

  His father wrapped his arms around him, effectively cutting off anything else. In all the years that they’d lived together, Rase never remembered his father kissing him, but his dad dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

  “Your mother couldn’t do it, you know,” he said, squeezing tighter. “She wanted to, but she said I would have had to drag her out of here, kicking and screaming. She didn’t want to embarrass you.”

  Rase hugged harder. “Tell her I’ll miss her.”

  “It’s only for a week. You can come visit on the weekends.”

  “Yeah,” Rase said, his voice muffled against his dad’s chest.

  But Rase knew it wouldn’t ever be the same. Moving out, even if only to a school, changed things. It made things different, it made a new chapter between him and his parents. His dad had to know it, to
o.

  Abruptly, dad’s arms disappeared. “Well, I best get back home. Your mother will be waiting on me.”

  “Yeah.”

  Dad soft-punched his shoulder. “Text her often, Rase. It’ll do her heart good.”

  Rase held up his phone. “I will.”

  Then, for the first time in his life, his father left Rase behind.

  Two hours later, the mid-afternoon light poured in, and Rase crept down the stairs. He had been all over upstairs, and he had expected more people. All the empty space absent of body heat…

  Rase shuddered. It creeped him out. Would he be the last student on earth?

  Maybe he was earlier than the rest of the students. He wandered from room to room until, finally, he peered through a gap between two sliding doors and gasped.

  Inside a large study, the butler leaned forward in front of Blackfox. Seated behind an oversized desk, the colonel reached toward Hobson’s middle. A moment later, Blackfox popped open the butler’s chest like a medicine cabinet. Lights and electronic gadgetry winked from the inside of the suited man. His skin had seemed so real. The robot had even breathed.

  Blackfox sniffed. “Come in, Rase. You might as well know that our butler isn’t quite like you.”

  Rase swallowed, struck again by how young and dumb he felt. He slid the sliding door into its wall pocket. “I had no idea he wasn’t real.”

  “Most can’t tell without being told,” Blackfox said. “But he’s as real as you or me. He’s been my assistant for as long as the school as this school has been open. Though I built his body, his consciousness is a copy of a sentient hologram that lives in New Haven City.”

  “A sentient hologram?” What other kind of technology existed? Were their living robots all around them? It boggled the mind.

  “There are a great many hidden things that go on in our world, Rase.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He has a glitch now and then. It’s a condition that resembles narcolepsy to those that don’t know he’s not like you and me.” Blackfox paused. “You understand what trust I am placing in you by inviting you here, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” Rase said. He hadn’t considered any of it in that way before. He knew more than a little about Blackfox and the magic school already.