Wilde Magic

by K M Charron

  "I’m so happy to see you," Ainsley said before lowering her tray and sitting.

  "Are you okay?" Harper put her spoonful of chili back in the bowl. "Did something else happen?" She made an empathetic squinty face.

  "Not really, but kind of. You know how you thought Sydney was so nice to come over to me yesterday, introducing herself and acting like she wanted to get to know me?" she asked while opening her milk. "Total bullshit."

  Harper pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and leaned forward as if they were about to uncover a vast conspiracy. "Spill."

  Ainsley gave her all the horrid details of being tripped and taking a dive in front of everyone, but she left out the worst part. No way was she divulging about a love note that the whole class got to see—although Harper would probably hear about it soon enough anyway.

  "And then Sydney made a show of coming up to me after class to chat for a minute. I told her I’d gotten lost earlier, and she offered to give me directions to my next class. As you saw, I ended up on the other side of the school, and if you hadn’t saved me, I’d probably still be looking for that room. Why is she such a bitch?" Heat built up in Ainsley’s face. "She acted so nice. I don’t get it." She shook her head before taking a huge bite of her sandwich.

  Harper’s mouth dropped an inch. "Oh my God, she’s coming over.” Her voice was a panicked whisper.

  Ainsley felt both nauseated and furious.

  "How was class?" a mocking voice asked.

  Ainsley glanced up to see Sydney, a huge shit-eating grin on her face.

  "Wow, how do you have the nerve to come over here right now?" She pushed her tray away and in one quick motion was up on her feet, standing nose to nose with Ashcroft’s queen. Not that she cared. No one was going to push her around.

  "I have the nerve to do whatever I want in my school. You’ll learn that soon enough." Sydney put a hand on her hip and pursed her lips like she was about to take a selfie.

  "Your school? Sorry, I didn’t get the memo in my orientation package."

  "That’s okay, Harpy here can explain the rules to you. Isn’t that right, Harpy?” Her words were biting.

  By now, the surrounding tables were silent, everyone watching the drama unfold. Ainsley was too pissed to care. Let them watch. Chances were they all knew what a bitch Sydney was anyway. "Her name is Harper. Why don’t you tell me why you’d bother to be friendly and act helpful only to send me on a wild goose chase? That’s beyond immature. But my guess is that’s just your speed." A few gasps sounded as if they couldn’t believe anyone would dare talk back to Sydney. Ainsley’s chest burned.

  Sydney put her hand to her chest in mock outrage. "Me? Why I’d never do something like that. You must be confused. Maybe you told me the wrong classroom."

  The fear of social suicide wasn’t enough to shake Ainsley from putting Sydney in her place. "Nice try. We both know you screwed with me on purpose, which just makes you pathetic. I knew there was a reason I was suspicious of you yesterday. What is it, are you threatened by me?"

  Sydney smiled, clearly delighted by the audience and Ainsley’s feistiness. "Threatened by what? With your Payless shoes or your mall haircut?"

  "Enough, Sydney," a voice cut in.

  Ainsley looked over, ready to jump all over whoever thought he needed to butt in and rescue her. She was about to tell him to mind his own business when Justin stepped forward. Her mouth dropped along with everyone else’s.

  Sydney turned to him. "Come on, Justin, she’s being overly dramatic. I didn’t do anything to her that she didn’t have coming.”

  Ainsley watched her appear to give Justin a knowing look.

  He scoffed. "Yeah, because everyone here knows how reasonable you are. Go back to our table and let Ainsley finish her lunch in peace."

  Ainsley looked from Sydney to him. It was as if he was scolding a petulant child. "Our table? You’re friends with her?"

  Sydney smiled wide. "Best friends actually." She tilted her head and made a pouting face. "Oh, does that ruin your little crush?" She turned toward Justin and said, "Ainsley here made the cutest love note about you in chem this morning. Drew a big heart with your name in the center of it. Professor Winslow showed the whole class. There’s no sense in denying it, sweetie."

  Justin winced, making Ainsley feel like the wind had just been knocked out of her. People around them were out of their seats, gathering around for a closer look. She gritted her teeth and fought to keep her voice steady. She couldn’t lose it in front of everyone. She refused to let Sydney win. “I’ve been told that you’re some sort of self-appointed queen bee. You must have confused that for Queen Bitch." She was pleased to hear that it came out as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Ainsley balled her fists, ignoring the pain as her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms.

  Seeing Justin's look of pity was too much. It was the same as she’d gotten from everyone who ever heard about her dad’s suicide. She wouldn’t feel this here. This was her chance to start over.

  She should have stuck to the reason she’d even decided to come to Ashcroft and not even entertained the idea of having friends.

  Ainsley stood less than a foot from Sydney. "Stay away from me. That’s a warning, not a suggestion." Grabbing her bag, she kept her head high, and pushed past everyone without looking back.

  Sydney

  Chapter 14

  Contrary to popular opinion, Sydney didn’t love being seen as a bitch. Well, at least not all the time. But it was important for her to remain feared and revered. Aside from her role as queen, she didn’t have much. Sometimes, when she was feeling particularly low, she even wondered if Langston would be dating her if she wasn’t ‘Sydney Lockwood’, and it wasn’t unusual for her to question her friends’ loyalty from time to time. As witches, they’d been raised with the concept of a firm hierarchy. It created order. Everyone knew their place and where they stood. She thought Justin understood that.

  Clearly, he did not, because she’d been waiting at the fountain for him for going on fifteen minutes. She even texted him, but he didn’t answer. He could be far too sensitive about middlings and sometimes needed a cooling-off period. Whatever. He’d get over it. She’d talk to him in the Nest later and smooth things out. He’d never truly side with a middling over her.

  Sydney had to turn her attention to more important matters, namely the upcoming trial. That night the apprentices had the second trial and Syd had to do well.

  Her phone vibrated from inside her blazer pocket. Her chest swelled, thinking Justin was texting to say he was running late. But it was Langston. So he’s finally come to his senses, she thought. At least one of the guys in her life had.

  Hey, Syd. I’m sorry. I was an ass. Let me make it up to you? I’ll meet you in the Nest and help you practice before tonight’s testing. See you soon. Love U.

  The truth was, she wasn’t pissed anymore. She texted back a smiley face. She could definitely use his help. Just his presence was enough to help calm her down. She needed to do well tonight.

  There was a good chance she’d be set to face-off with Oliver in the telekinesis challenge. Just thinking about it left her feeling drained, which was the perfectly wrong attitude to have, especially if she was going to beat him this time. He was an extremely gifted witch and had bested her the year before.

  Ava had let it slip about how much he’d been practicing at home. Sydney had yet to decide if it was bragging or a warning to bring her A-game. Either way, she had to be ready. She had no choice. There was no way she was being shipped off.

  Since Justin had abandoned her, Sydney headed to the Nest early. She could see Mirabeth another day. This gave her extra time to practice.

  Her breathing grew heavier the closer she got to the coven entrance. She hated the anticipation for these things, specifically the comparisons to her brother that inevitably ensued. His times, his wins, his successes. She had to remember that this was a different situation entirely. Oliver was a solid rival,
but not better than she. The last trial was a fluke. She’d never bombed anything that extravagantly before and she wouldn’t again. She was a talented witch. Oliver could practice all he wanted. He’d need it.

  Syd had been honing her telekinesis skills since she was two years old, moving things at will without even trying. It came naturally to her. If she wanted something, it would levitate and float to her from across the room. Oliver was similarly gifted, though. They’d been raised close to each other and shared many of the same home lessons. Her mother would tutor them in telekinesis, and his and Ava’s mother would teach them the art of illusion and glamours which were also part of the Mental Magic expertise.

  At least today was an autonomous test to evaluate skill level. Others were opponent-against-opponent in magical combat. Not everyone made it out of those unscathed.

  Sydney walked around the back of the school. The entrance to the coven was in the middle of a rose garden. The area was enchanted so that as soon as witches stepped inside a certain area, they were no longer visible to middlings or non-Wilde witches. Even the small door that led down into the Nest and tunnels was camouflaged to look like a flower bed. Anyone who might have been looking wouldn’t notice them vanish or think anything was odd, they would simply cease to think of them.

  These were safety protocols put in place by the founding coven members. Safety remained the top priority, despite a peace treaty among covens. The Wildes still acted as though they could be targeted at any time.

  Sydney approached the square green door and lifted it to reveal a dark staircase. She headed down, closing the door behind her. The thick, gray stone made it noticeably cooler below. When she reached the bottom, she was met with a set of familiar glowing yellow eyes. She heard a soft meow and felt rubbing against her ankle. "Hello, Simon." She bent down to scratch the small white patch under his chin. She loved the way it peeked out from the rest of his jet-black fur. He purred with contentment. "You’re such a sweet boy."

  The staircase emptied into the Main Hall, a huge open space with the same stone walls and floors. Sconces peppered the high walls emitting a soft, warm glow. In an elaborate stone fireplace, a blazing fire crackled. An oversized skylight (also glamoured to be hidden aboveground) was used by the Wildes to draw in the energy and light from the sun and moon.

  The Main Hall’s high ceilings and grand archways defied logic, considering how far below ground the rooms were. It was important to the Wildes that nature be brought inside since so much of their power derived from it. Trees in all the seasonal stages grew throughout the Nest. A small stand of leafless oaks, covered in soft, fluffy snow was rooted in one spot, while a cluster of cherry trees in full blossom added their sharp floral fragrance to the air. But her favorite trees were those whose leaves were a mixture of vibrant red, gold, and orange. Sydney trailed along a small winding stream, the tranquil sound of the water following her as she moved.

  The practice tables, centered in the middle of the Main Hall, were arranged in tidy rows. A few additional cats sat atop, licking their fur or were sleeping soundly. The Nest was full of them. Witches liked their pets, especially the feline variety. Her mother had a gray and white one called Winter, who was actually her familiar spirit, a supernatural entity that assisted its master witch’s desires. He abhorred Sydney, hissing at her whenever she even looked at him. Hateful little thing. She was sure her mother had trained him that way. Her mother refused to share the affections she thought should be hers alone.

  "Are you ready to be schooled?" Oliver’s terse voice seemed to come out of nowhere. He was dressed in their traditional green silk robes, grimoire in hand. He set the tome down on the table, opening it with a wave of his hand. He smiled smugly at her, and she desired nothing more than to shove a handful of its pages down his throat.

  "I’m not interested in your superpower of touching yourself."

  "Haha, funny Syd. Just admit it, you’re scared to go up against me. You could concede now and save yourself the embarrassment." He turned his attention back to the candelabra on the table in front of him. He lifted his hand, said the incantation and the silver candleholder shot across the ten-foot table, stopping perfectly just before the edge.

  He was right, she was nervous. She’d be stupid if she weren’t. But after her shaken confidence from the last test against him, she’d been practicing too and studying with Langston. Even though he was primarily a High magic student, he showed a natural aptitude for Mental magic.

  Despite flourishing in practice, Sydney tended to freeze under pressure. Her mother’s disappointed face somehow always popped up in her mind’s eye. Part of her wondered if Mommy Dearest had a hand in putting it there. The stress she was feeling today registered about an eight out of ten.

  "You seem pretty confident for someone who blew their projection test last month." She grinned, hoping he couldn’t see past her bravado. He’d completely choked. At least she wasn’t the only Wilde apprentice it happened to.

  Luckily, not all the Masters and Elders attended each testing, but all thirty-seven apprentices would be there, in addition to any other coven members who decided to show up. If only she could cast a calming spell over herself. Damn coven rules forbidding self magic! She supposed she could beg Justin or Khourt to do it, but if it was found out, anyone involved would be fined for ‘inappropriate use of witchcraft,’ and of course, cheating. Her mother would lock her away for a month before shipping her to Gerald.

  "What was it you were supposed to project into Elder Windsor’s mind?” she continued. “A cascading waterfall? And what was it you actually did project? Hmm." She tapped her chin with her index finger, making a show of trying to remember. "Oh right, a naked Vanessa Evans."

  His face dropped, all color draining. “How, who told you that?"

  "At least you’re not denying it," she could barely squelch her laughter. Jax’s sister, Vanessa, had been horrified when Syd told her. Penelope Wilson was brilliant at psychic readings and saw the whole thing. It took all of thirty minutes before almost everyone else in their group knew. It was unfortunate that their best mind-reading witch was also a terrible gossip. Sydney had been practicing her mental blocking spell since she was eleven, after Penelope ran around telling everyone that she liked Langston. Too bad she hadn’t mastered blocking out her mother.

  The Elders were their testing judges, and no one debated the validity of the results. All witches signed an oath of Magical Ethics and Conduct once they began their studies and again after they passed their apprenticeship. No one questioned the word of a respected Lord or Elder, let alone a Master witch. The hierarchy started at the bottom with children until the age of twelve, then the apprentices, next came the Lords, Elders, and finally the Masters. Rank was taken very seriously.

  After pulling her emerald ceremonial robe on over her jeans and t-shirt, she tied a purple sash around her and put her hair back in a clip. It made her feel less distracted to have it out of her eyes. Apprentice robes were made from the finest silk and embroidered at the neck and sleeves with delicate symbols that represented the Wildes––the scales of justice, the book of knowledge, the feather of flight, the celestial moon, and the elemental flame. The sash and trim color on each robe depended on which magical proficiency that witch primarily studied—white for White magic, black for Black magic, red for Elemental magic, purple for Mental magic, and gold for High magic.

  At her sideboard, the cubicle which held each witch’s personal and family magical artifacts and grimoires, she collected what she’d need for this testing before returning to the opposite end of the table from Oliver.

  The space began to flood with the other students and faculty, consisting of a few Lords, but mostly Elder witches. Sydney did her best to block them all out. She wished she could get used to having all eyes on her since everyone always wanted to see what the great Andrea Lockwood’s only daughter was made of. Female witches were naturally stronger on the whole, so why did Gerald seem to be superior to her? Maybe because he
had no life and studied constantly, and she had Ashcroft’s entire social empire to attend to?

  Closing her eyes, Sydney inhaled a controlled breath and exhaled the same way, trying to release any negativity that had accumulated in her cells. She was a Lockwood, dammit.

  "Are you ready? Don’t lie to me."

  Sydney opened her eyes but kept them on her open grimoire. "Am I ever?"

  Langston quickly placed a gentle hand on her back and removed it just as quickly. "Don’t psych yourself out. You’ve got this." He placed a small pewter cauldron in front of her. "Show me."

  Staring up at him with a smile, she said, "I want to, but there’s no way I’m going to give Oliver a free preview. He’ll have to wait until I annihilate him in front of everyone."

  Langston gave her a smile, the one that made his brown eyes sparkle. "You’re going to do great." He would have kissed her if they were above ground, but no physical gestures of romantic affection were allowed in coven quarters.

  The moderate flames of the torches placed around the tables expanded with a whoosh that brightened up the hall. "Attention all! Apprentices take your place among your proficiencies. We are about to begin." The room quieted immediately for Isme Bello, Máthair Bello to the apprentices. She was the Master of High Magic, widely respected and a no-nonsense kind of witch with zero patience. She didn’t care who the testers were, what bloodline they were from, or what was going on in their personal lives. Her only concern was turning apprentice witches into future Masters.