by Amy B. Nixon
“Hey, are you okay?”
A familiar voice pulled me out of my reverie. I noticed Maksim, who was standing a few feet away.
Suddenly, I felt the cold in all its glory, as freezing chills ran through my entire being, hitting in all the places that were both bare and covered by clothes. I was only wearing my Converses, jeans and a thin sweater with no coat or jacket, or even boots. Seeing him dressed for winter, I felt like we were in his hometown of Karasjok instead of in Southwestern Norway.
“Yeah.” I flashed him a teeth-chattering smile. “I was j-just ad-admiring t-the snow.”
“Almost naked? I take it you don’t have snow in California?”
“We d-do!” I corrected him with a frown, sensing a heatwave of annoyance, but it wasn’t sufficient enough to warm up my body. “We j-just don’t g-get it in San F-Francisco. And it’s n-not like I hav-ven’t seen s-snow b-before.”
It wasn’t a lie. I had seen snow during winter vacation trips in other parts of California. And once in New York. But I had never seen the first snowfall up until now. My room had thick blackout curtains, probably because Monika was one of those people who needed total darkness to fall asleep, so I had missed the exact time when it had started snowing.
Maksim placed his hands on my shoulders. The chills became even more freezing for a second, before I realized it was due to Aperture’s side effects. He had teleported us in the castle’s main entryway.
“H-how ch-chivalrous!” I exclaimed with sarcasm, pulling away from him and rubbing my hands together.
He scratched the back of his neck.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, but you were standing motionless and irresponsive. I thought something was off when I saw you from behind.”
“N-nothing’s off, I was j-just admiring t-the s-snow!” I snapped. Crap, I was acting out again, when all he had done was be nice. “S-sorry about t-that. T-thanks for ch-checking up on me, t-though.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” I replied, clenching my jaw to keep it still.
“Are you sure? I have to get to the training grounds, but if you want to, you can hang out with us during practice.”
I shook my head.
“It’s warm there.”
I shook my head again.
“Do you want to hang out later? We can build a snowman or do a snowball fight, or whatever it is you want to do while admiring the snow, as long as you get properly dressed.”
I could either hang out with his friends, who probably wouldn’t want me there, or I could get back to those books and find a way to protect myself against Aurora. My choice was a no-brainer.
“I h-have s-some read-ding in t-the library.”
“Well, if you change your mind…”
I gave him a thumbs-up instead of producing a verbal answer, and marched off to the library wing.
Skimming through books for the rest of the day taught me there were two types of magical shields. Sadly, I had no idea which one I needed or which one would be easier to learn. Even worse was the written note that Wanderers, out of all types of creatures capable of performing Aperture, could pierce through those shields. Or rather teleport on both sides of the shields, which was still a way of piercing through them. In other words, even if I succeeded in learning how to cast both types, Aurora would be able to teleport between me and my shield.
So much for my new plan of coping with the blondie!
My roommate had been a no-show all weekend long, and only came back in the middle of the night between Sunday and Monday, waking me up with a deafening bang.
“What the fuuuck?” I exclaimed half-asleep, illuminating our room with my phone.
Monika was sitting on the floor amidst books. The coffee table was knocked off beside her. She attempted to get up, lost balance, fell down, and shook with high-pitched giggles, different from her usual laughter.
“Are you hammered?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. A quick glance at my phone’s screen revealed it was past three in the morning.
“With…” She trailed off, giggled again, got up and dragged herself to bed. “My uni buddy.”
“The hell?”
“Uni buddy. Shots. Akvavit. Mm, yeah.”
In an instant, she hit the pillow and fell asleep. I had no idea what her words meant, but I was in no condition to think about them, so I turned the other way and went back to sleep.
When morning came, Monika was still in the very same position.
Seeing her like this reminded me why I only drank alcohol twice a year. Vomiting, hangovers and other nasty outcomes left aside, I had learned the hard way that drinking didn’t solve any problem. It only made you forget for a little while. Then it made the problem worse by dumping the full-blown realization of it the next morning, savagely cutting through the temporary, drunken, ignorant bliss.
I wasn’t one of those people who posted I hate Mondays memes every Monday on social media, because I had deactivated all my accounts last year. Still, I felt the urge to use those memes today.
Whether it was the weather or the tons of information I’d learned since coming here, I wasn’t sure of the reason, but I felt like I’d been the one drinking. Struggling to stay awake during my Magiessence book club meeting, I barely noticed how the book club members, who had finally warmed up to me, were now distancing themselves or glaring at me. It was probably due to my very public Bitch Mode: Activated explosion last week during Patricia Svensson’s ghostly show in the auditorium.
I also struggled to focus in Aperture in the afternoon. Marcus Dahl organized another group exercise, but I wasn’t making any progress.
“Mind, senses, landing, Miss Dustrikke,” he reminded me the principals of Aperture. “Banish any distractions from your mind. Keep the focus on your somatosensory system’s sense of touch. Forget about the limitations of any barrier in space and time. Think about where your landing will take place. Take corporeal form into it.”
I knew there were wards around the training grounds, preventing someone from accidentally materializing outside. Still, all my attempts were fruitless. With closed eyes, I centered my thoughts on going poof and landing on a padded mat exactly three feet away from my spot.
Corporeal form. Landing. Corporeal form and landing, corporeal form and landing.
I shrieked when a wave of cold air hit my ankle, right before something heavier and not-so-airy hit it as well. I lost my balance and fell over something warmer, pointier and livelier than the ground.
Another person.
“Up!” Marcus ordered and walked away.
The girl under me rolled on her shoulder with such a quick maneuver, I fell directly on my wrist. Before I could apologize, she crawled away backwards. Judging by the pain I felt, I had bruised something. Judging by the girl’s reaction, she was afraid. Absolutely, unmistakably afraid. The pure horror in her eyes replaced my fatigue and pain with burning irritation.
To hell with that apology!
“Yeah, run,” I hissed at her. “Run, because winter isn’t coming. Winter already came, and next time I raise an undead, guess whose ass my White Walker will be coming for!”
The girl jumped on her feet and stormed for the other end of the room, joining the others. They proceeded to speak in whispers, with mirrored horrified expressions. I pushed a hand through my hair and spun around, but hard as I tried, I couldn’t focus for the rest of our exercise. As soon as I removed one terrified person’s face from my mind, the image of a laughing one settled, and vice versa.
Monika’s flashy purple head caught my attention at dinner, and I immediately rushed over there.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, leaning over her shoulder.
“Tired,” she yawned, looking up. “Don’t jump on me like that.”
“Sorry. I only wanted to check up on you after… uh, last night’s buddy shots, or whatever you said.”
“It’s cool, the nurse sobered me up.”
So, that’s how her brother had bee
n looking fresh and chatty after a hard night of drinking. Someone had invented a magical pill or spell, or whatever, to cure supernatural hangovers. FML! Couldn’t my aunt have at least told me about it during all those times I was deadbeat wasted in my late teens?
“Why don’t you pull up a chair?” Monika asked, gesturing to her left side. “You can squeeze in. This is Yaroslav. He’s visiting from the Zolotov Academy in Russia with his sister Gabriella, who’s somewhere in the Dining Hall. And on my right is Runa. And across from me is her cousin, Silfa. Everyone, this is my roommate, Learyn Dustrikke.”
“A famed Dustrikke!” the Slavic guy exclaimed.
Everyone gawked at me in a curious, inquisitive way, like they were searching for something. Something to make me stand out from the crowd, because I was born with the famed Dustrikke name. Something, which I obviously lacked.
I weighed the options and quickly made up my mind.
“Thanks, but I already saw an empty chair ahead, and I have to bury my nose in some books, so I’ll let you eat in peace. It was nice meeting you all.”
Apart from not wanting to be in the spotlight, I also didn’t really want to join Monika.
Some small part of me was ready to accept the offer, but I knew she was only being polite. She had her own social life to maintain. Just because the Council had made me her roommate, it didn’t mean I had to glue myself to her and act all needy. She obviously had a lot on her plate, because in the rare times I saw her, she was either reading or sleeping. The last thing her schedule needed was my miserable, vulgar and misanthropic ass.
Not to mention I had already gotten her into trouble with the Council, and accidentally burned her when my fire element broke out.
***
On Tuesday during my Elemental session with Brühl, I did something unlikely – I opened up about my insecurities.
“What happens if someone can’t pass those tests you mentioned? The ones the Council does on its residents?”
He squinted at me in obvious disapproval.
“Are you giving up, Dustrikke?”
“No, I’m just asking you a simple question.”
He shrugged. “A few verdammte Kinder fail every January. You’re a Class Five sorceress. You’re expected to pass.”
“I told you I might not be here in January. What happens if someone fails? Especially on the evocation test?”
“Nothing. The Council labels them as casters who haven’t mastered specific aspects of evocation, and monitors them closely in case they stir any trouble while residing on the island. Enough rambling. Go sit.”
We played the same game of light up-extinguish. After an hour or so, I did extinguish the wick without moving the candle, but when it came to working with the fire element, my fire magic was a no-show.
On the bright side, it seemed like I had finally gotten the hang of the air element.
Which meant one thing – I was ready to face Aurora and send her ass flying straight through a window. Shield or no shield, if the bitch tried to do Avada Kedavra on me, I had something to fight back with.
Armed with self-confidence, I decided to take a walk in one of the courtyards and enjoy the snow later that evening. Dressed in warm clothes, buttoned up to my nose and wearing proper boots, I roamed around leisurely, formed tiny snowballs, played with them by myself, and took a breather from all the craziness.
Making an accidental Draug, thrashing rooms, unintentionally harming the island’s residents, and being murdered simply came with the territory. Good thing I had a sick sense of humor, otherwise I had no clue how I would have survived in this hellhole.
***
My conversation with Brühl hadn’t been as private as I thought, because it came back to bite me in the ass on Saturday afternoon, when someone knocked on my bedroom’s door. Someone who was most definitely not looking for Monika – her twin brother.
“Hi?” I asked in confusion.
He grinned with that boyish smile, which didn’t quite suit his gigantic frame. “You got a minute?”
“I’m going over some spells.”
“Which ones?”
“Just one – Forfall.”
“Ah, the good old rotting curse.”
“Curse? Marcus Dahl just introduced it this morning! He said it’s the opposite of the healing spell Helbrede! How can he show curses to inexperienced necromancers while trying to pass them as…” I paused to imitate his tone. “Acts of balance.”
“Yeah, that’s what he’s been instructed to say, so he’d make newcomers feel more welcome, and they wouldn’t attack someone. Hence showing you the healing spell prior to the rotting curse.”
“This place is fucked up,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
“Anyway, a little birdie told me you need some help with evocation.”
I took a step back and shot him a suspicious look.
“Does the little birdie have purple feathers?”
He chuckled. “It wasn’t Monika. My mom’s on the Council, remember?”
I took another step back.
“Let me guess. Svensson wasn’t happy when I unintentionally caused trouble – again, so she decided to rat me out to the Council and tell them my summoning is a big fail?”
“Well, yeah, the Council wasn’t happy about that, but she wasn’t the one who ratted you out. Your Elemental mentor told them you were asking what would happen if you fail an evocation test.”
Was there a single person capable of keeping their mouth shut?
Maksim placed a hand on his chest and leaned down in a bowing gesture. “I’m at your service.”
“What the fuck?”
“And here I thought you could go five minutes without swearing. May I come in?”
“Oh, hell no, Maksim, please! I don’t want you to waste your time tutoring me!”
“I’d be happy to, really. I’m free for a few hours, then I have a forty-minute self-defense group session, and then I’m free again.”
“Thanks for the offer, but no.”
“Well, I can either spend those hours waiting at your doorstep until you change your mind, or I can spend them being helpful.”
The guy was yet again showing me he was unbelievably persistent. He was a martial artist, though, so being persistent was probably a mandatory requirement. But his niceness seriously wore me down. And his sister’s kindness. If I was going to learn how to let people in again, I’d have to start with the Larsen twins.
I sighed and made way for him to get inside.
“The threshold is enchanted, so only you and Monika can enter. You either have to draw blood and perform an unlocking spell, which I’m sure you haven’t practiced, or you have to say the words Come In, otherwise I can’t.”
Riiight, blood magic! The one meant to replace keys and locks here, at least according to Raisa at Administration.
“Okay, come in.”
Maksim crossed the threshold, and, to my pleasant surprise, took off his shoes in our tiny corridor. He pulled the only chair in our room and sat on it, glancing from Monika’s messy bed covers to my bed, which was taken up by books. I quickly pushed them aside in an attempt to declutter.
“Is my sister rubbing off on you?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone. By the way, thanks for talking to Axel. I don’t know what you’ve told him, but he finally stopped yapping at my heels like a horny dog.”
“Axel can be a horny dog all the time, but once you get to know him, he’s a funny guy. He became one of my first friends when we moved from Karasjok to Stavanger. Karasjok is a nasty place, I’m tellin’ ya!”
Ugh! The mere thought of being near that piece of slimy shit called Axel was agonizing, so I veered the conversation in a different direction.
“Monika mentioned her magic broke out in high school, and yours broke out before hers. How does this play out for casters not raised as humans? They just quit high school and go to one of those academies for necromancers?”
“Kind of. There used to be a
few schools through the centuries, but they got destroyed. Ramfrid Sørensen’s Institute for Necromancers in Sweden was the last one in Scandinavia. It closed three years ago. The Zolotov Academy for Necromancers in Russia is our last specialized institution, although there’s another place someone like us can go to. It’s an all-sorcery-is-equal type of school in Florida, called Howard’s College for The Gifted.”
“That’s it? Aren’t there other magical schools?”
“Well, there are many in Midgard and other realms, but they refuse to accept necromancers. You know, death magic is black magic, and that type of crap. You’d think they’ll drop the prejudices and accept something as rare as our kind. We’re like unicorns compared to other sorcerers.”
“Meaning?”
His eyes woefully narrowed in my direction.
“We’re a dying breed, despite our long lifespans.”
“How, when we can live for two hundred years? I mean, mortal human families raise two children on average, when they don’t even get a century on this planet. Why don’t necromancers just make more babies?”
“We can reproduce for most of our lives, even after we become centenarians, but not all of us survive that long. Many children are hybrids with mixed genes. Sometimes their organisms can’t adapt to genetic diversity, so they die prematurely. Think of it like the issues human children have with organ failures. Sometimes they die as kids, other times it happens after they’ve reached adulthood.”
Fate sure had a screwed up sense of humor if the ones capable of reanimating someone were dying prematurely.
“Then there are Ailings, who can be born even in pureblood families.”
“What’s an Ailing?”
“A necromancer with recessive genes. They have very little magical power and an average human lifespan. Aia, Linnea and Minora married human men, so Ailings are bound to happen even in families like yours.”
I faked a smile when irritation spun through my system. Families like yours. Family, my ass! My aunt still hadn’t called me, let alone followed me here like she promised to. Then again, what else should I have expected from someone who had lied to me for almost twenty-one years?
