Root Rot Academy: Term 2

by Watson, Rhea

  “Jennifer—hi.” I did my best to keep the annoyance out of my voice, the desperation to sit in silence and shove perfectly seasoned soup into my mouth grating my nerves. Standing before me was one of my fifth years, a badger shifter with legitimate herbalism career aspirations after she graduated at the end of the year. Quiet and focused, Jennifer Howard kept her academy uniform neat and was one of the few people who could rock a bright blonde pixie cut without looking like a try-hard. I had no idea why she was at Root Rot Academy—because she was leagues ahead of her peers in my class, both in aptitude and attitude—and I had never bothered to ask. I didn’t need to know her previous crimes to like or teach her. “What’s up?”

  “Uh, this is for you?” White-blonde brows furrowed, she held out a weathered envelope with my name scribbled across the front in a shaky cursive, then stamped shut with a red dot on the back. No emblem or artistic seal in the wax. What—the hell? I set my spoon down, frowning as Jen added, “Someone, like, slipped it under my door while I was packing for break. No idea what it is or why it came to me.”

  “That’s really weird.” Apprehension skittered down my spine suddenly, and I went for the envelope as calmly and coolly as I could. “Nothing strange happened when you touched it, right?”

  For all either of us knew, the envelope could have been hexed. Even if it didn’t give off a magical aura, you never really knew for sure: hexes were tricky like that, some so subtle they left no supernatural signature in the ether.

  “No.” Jennifer shrugged, glancing along the staff table with a sniff, about a third of the faculty present and all just as haggard-looking as me. “Doesn’t smell off, either, so I’ve just been looking for you… Maybe someone made a mistake?”

  “Or they know we spend time together,” I muttered. Not only was Jennifer one of the shining stars in my lectures, but she had volunteered on the Samhain committee and regularly harvested with me during the week. Still, it wasn’t her issue anymore. She had done the right thing coming straight to me, and I mustered up the best carefree smile I could as I tapped the envelope against my palm. “I’m sure it was just a mistake. Thanks for bringing it to me.”

  “No problem.”

  “Off you go—back to packing.”

  “Have a good evening, Professor Clarke.”

  “You too,” I said, waving her off as she descended the steps off the elevated staff dining platform. “And have a great break if I don’t see you before then.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her grin and wave, but Jennifer and spring break were officially the furthest things from my mind. Nudging dinner aside, I set the envelope down flat, then slipped my wand out of its holster.

  “Ipsum revelare.” Even a basic revealing spell unlocked most charms and undid glamors. While a soft pink light washed over the worn parchment, nothing came of it. For all intents and purposes, the thing was clean.

  Maybe.

  Someone still could have hexed it—maybe the same person who conjured all those snakes during Mabon. Fuck. Nervous sweat gathering on the nape of my neck, palms cold and heart pounding, I flipped it over and ripped through the wax seal.

  Which wasn’t tough by any means.

  Newly set, then. Someone had done this recently.

  Despite the envelope looking aged, thick and luxe and rustically stylized, inside was nothing more than a lined sheet of notebook paper.

  Oh gods.

  The second I unfolded it, I recognized the handwriting. My eyes narrowed and gut bottomed out.

  Alice, what are you doing?

  Now it made sense why she would slip this under Jennifer’s door: not only did Alice harvest with us, but Jennifer had sort of taken her under her wing a few months back—almost out of pity. They weren’t friends, per se… More like gardening club acquaintances.

  Alice didn’t have any friends.

  No one in her corner but me and—

  “Fuck.”

  Dear Professor Clarke,

  I know you don’t approve, but I’ve found my soul mate. Brin and I are fated. I understand your reservations. You care about me and my well-being. So does Brin. He wants the world for me, and he promised to give me that and more if I was his wife.

  I pressed a hand to my forehead, hunched over the table and reading every horrible word with a sinking feeling. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

  He found a way to reopen the portal after security sealed it, and on Valentine’s Day, he proposed. It was the most beautiful, special moment of my life, and of course I said yes. Tonight, we become husband and wife in front of his entire clan. Little girls dream about their mom and dad being there on their wedding day—but mine sent me here. To them, I’m a disgrace. To Brin, I’m a miracle.

  And to you, I’m a friend… I hope.

  It would mean the world to me if you were there to witness our union. 7 o’clock sharp, through the portal behind blessed Clíodhna. No plus-ones, unfortunately, but there will be cake!! Double fudge—your favorite!

  See you there… Maybe?

  xoxo

  Alice

  Fucking useless security goons.

  “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” I hissed, shooting up with both the envelope and the letter crushed in my panicked fists. Ignoring the curious, marginally irritated side-eyes from my colleagues, I then sprinted out of the dining hall like I had the hounds of hell nipping at my heels, headed straight for Jack without delay.

  Hoping we weren’t too late to stop this.

  25

  Jack

  “I can’t believe you didn’t say something sooner.”

  Try as I might to keep the conversation between Alecto and me civil, my growl still reverberated harshly down the northwestern stairwell. While empty, there was no telling who was listening from the shadows—and what they might take from whatever words exchanged. Surrounded by the echoes of our thundering footsteps, we raced round and round, charging from the administration wing on the third floor into the bowels of the castle, Alecto’s news still ringing in my ears like earth-shattering alarm bells.

  When she first burst into my office with a fuming Iris at her heels, I had no idea what to expect—but not this. Never this. A secret portal in my academy. A student at risk, smitten with some siren. Initially, my temper had spiked because of Alecto’s breach in decorum; she might have been my submissive now, but she couldn’t pull rank in front of the others, especially Iris Prewett. Outside of scenes, she needed to respect her limitations as a professor and nothing more.

  Then, when she had blurted the news about Alice behind a firmly closed door, I’d nearly lost it. This was now the second time she had withheld crucial information from me for the sake of others: first with Bjorn, now with a student, and if we weren’t careful, tonight could be an even graver disaster than Samhain.

  After all, neither of us believed a siren, one of the most alluring creatures in our world, would marry a teen witch—who still couldn’t cast—out of the goodness of his heart. With the hour looming and most of the castle’s occupants either in class or in their dorms, there simply wasn’t time to round up the security squad or call for backup. As it stood, Alice’s life depended on Alecto and me—and here I was, starting to question whether I could trust the witch barreling down the stairs at my back.

  Worst of all, I couldn’t punish her for this, for keeping secrets from me.

  Because she hadn’t kept a secret from her Dominant, but from her headmaster. This wasn’t a scene. This wasn’t kink. This was the real world, which was unfortunately a great deal muddier, full of grey areas and questionable boundaries.

  “I told security immediately after I found out about it,” Alecto insisted breathlessly, sounding just as frantic and panicked as I felt. Unlike her, I kept it hidden beneath a granite mask of authority and control. I rolled my eyes at the statement, both of us crossing below the castle’s main level and into the underground, the air noticeably cooler. Even if she had run straight to security, these new hires were terrible—and
Iris was taking her bloody sweet time to replace them. Above the thunder of our footsteps came Alecto’s hand grazing the stone wall, keeping her balance as we sprinted down the dizzying stairwell. “I promised Alice I wouldn’t tell you, but those idiots said they would file a report.”

  Typical—and expected, given the scope of this miserable year. Could nothing ever go right? As I barreled through the wooden doorway and whipped around into Clíodhna’s alcove, I could feel my tenure here, my professional career and personal reputation, slipping away like sand through my fingers.

  Whoever on the administration side of things knew about this and hadn’t told me would be fired before midnight tonight—that much was clear. Security. Admin assistants. Den mothers. Iris herself, even. A portal leading directly into my academy was a security breach of epic proportions that I should have been told of instantly.

  Hell, I should have been there when they sealed it.

  Because obviously whatever useless incantations they used had failed. Once we had Alice back, even if I had to throw her over my shoulder and bulldoze through a dozen sirens to do it, I would lock the portal shut so tight no one could ever breach it again. Already countless spells, hexes, and charms percolated in my ever-racing mind, archived appropriately by type and the necessary focus required. As usual, I thought five steps ahead—but I was needed here and now.

  “Here,” Alecto muttered, jogging around me and headed for the love goddess’s statue. “Let me go first—”

  “No.” I grabbed her around the elbow before she had made it two strides forward, then reeled her back. Light as a feather, my submissive was so deliciously easy to manhandle, but from the look on her face, the narrowing of her eyes, Alecto appreciated it far less here than she did in scenes. Well. Tough. “Definitely not, Miss Clarke.”

  Her cheeks flashed bright red, and I ignored the dart of guilt in my chest. I so preferred little one. Even her name, that of a fury, a creature of the old world, gave me a visceral thrill to whisper aloud. But she was in trouble—I couldn’t punish her as I’d like, so she got that. Miss Clarke. Let her know she was in the doghouse for all of this, even if it wasn’t strictly her fault.

  And… And she had done the right thing coming straight to me with the letter.

  Maybe just one Miss Clarke for the night, then.

  Adrenaline buzzed in my fingertips, and I surveyed a stone Clíodhna with a grimace. How the bloody hell was I supposed to fit behind that? As if reading my thoughts, Alecto cleared her throat pointedly, but that only forced my hand. Dressed in my customary fitted three-piece black suit, I strode forth and squished behind the statue—then fell clear through the wall even though I had barely touched it, like unseen hands dragged me into the ether.

  The first thing that struck me on the other side was the salty sea air.

  Then the unnerving quiet.

  Having fallen through backward, I was met with a massive stone wall creeping up overhead, limestone steps at my feet, and when I whipped around, a domed cave with black-blue water sloshing up the stone dock that stretched out from the foot of the stairs.

  And sirens.

  Dozens of them, beautiful and lovely predators, nude torsos bedazzled with shells and pearls and sea glass visible above the surface. Illuminated by what might have been romantic mood light in other circumstances, countless floating orbs cast the space in light and dark, a warm yellow to soften the harsh features of what looked like an entire clan of man-eaters.

  Something was off.

  My adrenaline skyrocketed.

  Nothing about this looked like a wedding—not even remotely like the siren ceremonies conducted far from the coast that I had read about. Outsiders were seldom welcome. Land brides were always taken by force.

  So many eyes on me, calculating, intense—hyperfocused. I drew my wand immediately, jaw set, expression just as severe as those around me.

  This is wrong, Jackie boy.

  Run.

  I spun around, about to stop Alecto from walking into what was clearly a trap, but my submissive came plummeting through the portal hard and fast, stumbling into me with a grunt.

  She wasn’t dressed for a fight: thin black leggings and a shapeless floral dress that cut off just below her knees and hit her exquisite curves. Leather boots with a low heel and thick wool socks bunched above them. Hair in a messy bun.

  At least it was out of her face.

  As if assaulted by the wrongness of the scene, Alecto whipped out her wand and leveled it at the sirens creeping closer to the walkway on either side, each one armed with spears and blades.

  A sob cut through the oppressive quiet. Dead ahead, hovering there in the water, was the bride-to-be.

  Clutched in a siren’s death grip, a dagger to her throat, Alice looked like a drowned rat, soaked to the bone, her usual storm of curls tamed and her makeup running down her cheeks in black tracks.

  Beneath the surface, white flared around her.

  A wedding dress.

  She had found a way to—

  “Brin,” Alecto barked, stalking around me with a snarl that gave a few of the nearby sirens pause, “you fucking bastard!”

  I hooked her by the waist and hauled her back. We needed to stay together, vastly outnumbered by a clan of sea warriors who had magic of their own. Paltry, weak, muted magic compared to the bottomless wells inside Alecto and me, but they were armed and dangerous; no sense in starting a fight just yet.

  Can’t put Alice at even greater risk.

  “Lower your wands, witch, warlock, or the girl dies.”

  Floating around Alice and this Brin character, the siren who spoke did so with true gravitas, a heft in his voice that resonated in me. From the tattoos snaking up his arms, across his chest, ancient symbols I barely recognized, he must have been the clan leader. Broad-chested, muscular but scarred, he appeared weathered compared to the sirens around him, still dangerously handsome but aged, his sun-kissed blond mane shaved at the sides and braided at the back. He brandished a golden trident that I assessed with some concern.

  Even if it wasn’t a magical conduit, those prongs could tear straight through flesh and bone, then strew our guts around this very cave.

  “What is this?” I lowered my wand as requested, stepping in front of Alecto and blocking her from the roving eyes of the sirens in front of us. She still had those on the sides to contend with, warriors flanking us to the right and left, but I shielded her from the siren with the most authority. This time, she let me maneuver her around, lingering in my shadow, her aura prickly and scattered at my back.

  Focus, little one. Center yourself.

  The tattooed siren sized me up as he swam closer to the helm of the limestone walkway.

  “Welcome, Jack Clemonte,” he rumbled with the smallest of bows. “Headmaster of Root Rot Academy, warlock of high esteem… I am Rìgh, king of the Domhainn clan. Tonight, you must make a choice.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “No.” The weight of the word rippled through the entire clan, whispers and hisses filling the cavern, and over my shoulder, I caught Alecto’s wand arm shoot up, her weapon drawn to counteract the few raised spears to my right. “No, Rìgh, king of the Domhainn clan, I will be taking my student into custody, and then we will leave this place in peace.”

  Rìgh’s laughter had a beautiful singsongy quality to it, his smile barbed and bitter, his mouth full of teeth sharpened to deadly points.

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he informed me, calm and in control even as our invisible antlers clashed in battle—two old bucks fighting to come out on top. “Tonight, my kin and I will walk on land, and either your blood or your witch’s blood will make that possible. Tonight, we complete the ritual passed down by our forefathers, or—”

  “Fuck you,” Alecto snarled, peering around me to glare and growl and flash her teeth.

  A fury, through and through.

  “Or,” Rìgh thundered, his words bouncing off the walls and stirring his fellow sirens to close ranks, fallin
g into battle formations around us, “the girl here dies. Right now. Simple. And if she dies now, you’ll both be sacrificed.”

  “Easy, easy.” I patted the air, keen on deescalating things as dark water sloshed up the sides of the walkway, sirens creeping closer. “There’s no need for violence… Surely you can find another sacrifice? A willing sacrifice, even.”

  Unlikely, but whatever it took to get all three of us out of here—or, at the very least, Alecto and Alice—I’d say it.

  “She was our sacrifice,” Alice’s captor sneered, shoving his blade’s tip under her chin, “but she’s not a witch. Not a drop of magical blood in her!”

  More hisses erupted around the lake, but Alice’s panicked wail rose above all else. Everything in me tightened, fight or flight engaged, mind silent and thoughts singular.

  “Alice, I’m here,” Alecto called. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine. Just stay calm—”

  “So, Headmaster Clemonte,” Rìgh boomed, gesturing between us and Alice with his trident. “What will it be? You, the witch—or all three of you?”

  Alecto gripped the back of my arm. “Jack, don’t be stupid—”

  “Me,” I said without missing a beat. I needn’t consider it, not for a second. Outnumbered by a clan of carnivores, the choice was clear. The odds of me getting Alice and Alecto out in one piece were slim to none, but if I could keep the sirens busy long enough, distract them with this ritual, then at least Alecto could rescue Alice. Save an innocent. Get the child under my care back to Root Rot, no matter what became of me.

  Alecto’s breath hitched, her wounded gasp busting the dams, fear coursing through my veins like icy raging rivers.

  Right now, she was terrified.

  But she was strong—stronger than she thought. I’d known that from the moment I first set eyes on her.