Scholomance 1

by Logan Jacobs

  Chapter 2

  I cautiously followed the group of women toward a thick, iron-studded wooden door, and the gates slowly closed behind me.

  The moon cast a glow over the towering entranceway, and I noticed it was no ordinary door. There were all kinds of menacing carvings engraved into the wood, and they were moving. I clenched my jaw and watched as scorpions, spiders, and snakes slithered over the door, and a cold, sinking sensation grew in the pit of my stomach as the door slowly opened on its own. There was a screeching sound that followed, and it sent another chill down my spine. Then I saw nothing in front of me, except darkness.

  It felt as if I was about to enter hell.

  “Go,” Vanessa demanded.

  I swallowed and took a step inside. Clearly, I had no other choice.

  It was still pitch black when I passed the threshold, and all I could feel was an ice-cold breeze whipping across my face. It felt like needles were piercing my skin, but I forced myself to walk deeper inside.

  I heard the door slam shut, and then, out of nowhere, flames burst like fireworks all around me. Now the entire hallway was lit by large, black-iron wall sconces, and the fires crackled as I forced myself to move on.

  As I observed my surroundings, I couldn’t help but stare at the paintings that were plastered all around me. They were dark, murky portraits of women, painted in hues of dark moss greens and sickly blues and yellows. As I studied the portraits more carefully, I decided that “women” wasn’t the correct word. Not all of the paintings resembled human women at all. While some looked more human than others, several portraits looked like mythical creatures … and some were more demonic than others.

  One, in particular, was very unnerving. She had deep, sea-green skin with moles and warts covering her entire face, and her eyes were entirely black and practically bulging out of her skull.

  “Move,” Vanessa hissed. “We don’t have all night, mortal.”

  I didn’t even realize that I had stopped dead in the middle of the hall to look at the portrait, and I sighed and forced myself to keep going down the corridor. As I walked, I started to notice the eyes of the paintings were actually following me as I trailed down the hallway, but as unsettling as it was, I forced myself to stare back as I walked.

  The painted women’s expressions now changed from placid and neutral to appalled and perplexed.

  After everything I’d witnessed tonight, there was no point in questioning the strange paintings … no matter how foreboding it felt. When I couldn’t take their glares any longer, I averted my eyes and just stared at the end of the hallway.

  As I walked, I could hear the clicking of shoes against the marble floor. The group of women followed me closely, as if I were leading them … yet I had no idea where I was supposed to go once I reached the end of this eerie corridor.

  Then, as if Vanessa could read my exact thoughts, she snapped her fingers, and the clicking of shoes against the floor came to an immediate halt.

  “Stop,” she commanded once I’d reached the largest and possibly the most significant painting at the end of the hallway.

  When I studied it, I noticed the woman closely resembled Vanessa, if she were a decade older, that is. This woman looked more serene and welcoming when compared to the other paintings. As I pulled my eyes away from her and looked around, I wondered where Vanessa wanted me to go, since there was no other door or opening that I could see.

  Just a dead end.

  “Now what?” I asked before I whipped around to face them. “You want me to walk through a wall?”

  “Move aside,” Vanessa snapped, and her blue eyes were like shards of ice.

  I was beginning to feel like she was the one in control here, since no one else said a word as she took a step toward me. When I didn’t move, she raised an eyebrow as if to say, “you’d better get out of my way.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to challenge her, so I sighed impatiently before I stepped aside to give her some space.

  She glared at me before she lifted her hand up high into the air. At first, I thought she was about to touch the painting, but her fingertips were inches away.

  Then I watched with curiosity as she slowly closed her eyes and muttered something inaudible under her breath. As soon as she was done speaking, I flinched from surprise. The painting had begun to gently pull away from the wall, like a secret door. Now, there was an opening, and it took a second for me to adjust my eyes to the dark.

  “Go,” Vanessa ordered as if I were a dog.

  “I need to see where I’m going,” I snarked back.

  She sighed and then flicked her wrist, and suddenly, there was light. When I peered inside, I saw a massive chamber that reminded me of a ballroom. It was elegant and bare, but instead of gold or cream walls, everything was painted black. The floor, however, was made of gray marble, and it was gleaming so vividly I could see my bloody reflection when I looked down. Like a ballroom, there was nothing in the area except for a massive chandelier that hung from the ceiling. It illuminated the room with probably hundreds of black candles and was completely covered in cobwebs that dangled all the way down to the middle of the floor.

  “Now, will you go?” Vanessa asked, and her voice was laced with annoyance and impatience.

  I nodded and stepped inside before she could berate me anymore.

  “To your right,” she said when we reached the middle of the ballroom. There was a row of doors against the walls, and at first, they were difficult to see because they were also painted black.

  No one moved for a minute, and I turned to look at the group.

  “Well, where do you want me to go?” I asked.

  “Maybe he isn’t the chosen one, after all,” Luna muttered to Vanessa. “He can’t even sense which door to go through.”

  Vanessa raised her hand, and for a moment, I thought she was going to slap Luna in the face, but the white-haired woman flinched and took a step away from her.

  “Stop questioning the devil’s decision,” Vanessa hissed. Then she turned to look at me, and her piercing blue eyes were filled with loathing. “Follow us.”

  I stood still as the women walked past me. They moved so quietly and gracefully as if they were walking on water, and I followed them as Vanessa pulled out another key from her cloak pocket. Instead of a large, golden key, this one was small, plain, and black. She slid it into the lock of the middle door, and it slowly opened with a creak. All the women flooded into the mysterious room, and Vanessa waited until everyone was inside, including myself, before shutting the door behind her.

  Again, I found myself in another cold and dark room, and there was a moment of pregnant silence until a voice filled the air.

  “Cole,” said a soft and feminine voice. “I have been expecting you.”

  The room then mysteriously lit up, just as the hallway had done earlier. I adjusted my eyes and realized I was inside a grand office. There were books stacked up in every corner of the room, and a giant bear rug splayed on the marble floor. Candles were hanging above me, not attached to anything at all, and there was also an enormous fireplace to my right that made the room glow with light and warmth.

  But what truly grabbed my attention was the woman sitting behind an elegant, wooden desk.

  It was the woman from the grand painting.

  Just like in the portrait, she had the same, pale iridescent skin and bright blue eyes Vanessa had. She was clearly older, just like in the painting, and her black hair was pinned up high above her head and adorned with feathers and something that looked like a bone hairpin. When she stood up, I noticed she was wearing a Victorian-era style dress. It was a dark plum color, with a black lace collar that reached her ears. She was beautiful, in both an elegant and intimidating way.

  “Cole?” I repeated as I shook my head. “Is that what you called me?”

  “That’s your name,” she replied with a placid smile. “Do you not remember?”

  “No,” I said. “In fact, I can’t remember a damn t
hing … at least not clearly. All I know is I don’t belong here.”

  It was challenging to explain to myself, let alone anyone else. Fragments of my mind told me I was human. That I came from somewhere else entirely … I just couldn’t remember how I ended up here, or really anything else from my past.

  “Ah, now that’s where you’re mistaken,” she said with the same smile. “You’ve been summoned, just as the devil predicted.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?” I demanded. My patience was growing thinner by the minute, and my mind was like a puzzle only half completed.

  “We’ve brought you here to our academy,” the woman started to explain. “It is our unholy duty to summon a powerful witch every five-hundred-years, and now, here you are.”

  “A witch?” I repeated with a raised brow. “Um, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a--”

  “A woman?” she chuckled. “Yes, we can see that.”

  I turned around to face all the cloaked women. Aside from Luna and Vanessa, who had their hoods pulled down, the rest of their faces were obscured.

  No one said a word until Vanessa impatiently sighed and shook her long, dark mane.

  “Mother,” Vanessa huffed, “this is very unusual … do you not agree?”

  Ah, so this woman was Vanessa’s mother. Now the resemblance made perfect sense.

  “Indeed, it is unusual,” the older woman replied, “but it is not our place to question it. This is the result of the ritual, and the ritual is never wrong. Now leave us. We have much to discuss, Cole and I.”

  “But--” Vanessa whined.

  “Enough,” her mother silenced her in a firm tone. “Do as I say.”

  I could see Vanessa’s throat throb as she swallowed hard and then lowered her head.

  “Yes, Headmistress,” she muttered under her breath.

  All the other women bowed their heads in unison before leaving the room. Then I turned to face the “headmistress,” but before I could open my mouth, she raised her hand to stop me.

  “I know what you must be thinking,” she said. “This is all very unorthodox, I must admit.”

  “Unorthodox isn’t the word I’d use,” I replied with my arms crossed. “I’d say this is completely, one-hundred-and-ten percent fucked up. You must have me confused with someone else.”

  The headmistress laughed gently and approached me. Then she grabbed my hand and began to look at my palm, and I let her since I didn’t see what other choice I had.

  “Your memory has gone, temporarily, though,” she said after a long moment. “Fear not … it will return with time.”

  “Yes, we’ve established that,” I replied as I gently pulled my hand away. “Can you please just help me get back to wherever the hell I came from? Back to Earth, reality, or whatever?”

  “That won’t be possible,” she said, and her voice was now firmer.

  “And why the hell not?” I demanded.

  “Because the devil has demanded you remain here at the academy,” she answered.

  “Academy?” I repeated as my brain swam and throbbed. This was too much information to take in at once.

  “This is Scholomance, The Devil’s Academy,” the woman said as if it were obvious. “I am Headmistress Theodora, and I run the school.”

  “Okay … ” I said. “So, just to be clear here … what you’re telling me is, the devil has summoned me to be here? At this school? Why?”

  “Yes.” Theodora nodded. “You were beckoned because our enemies grow stronger with each blood-moon. The chosen one must attend the academy in order to learn how to defeat the most powerful and unholy of the elder gods. It has been that way since the dawn of time.”

  “Enemies?” I repeated. “Elder gods?”

  What the fuck was this woman going on about?

  “Yes,” she responded with a grave frown, “and as I’m sure you’ve noticed, the other witches aren’t exactly pleased you’ve been chosen … but we do not question the devil’s intentions. You are here, and that is final.”

  “But--” I started to say, but she raised her hand to cut me off, just as she had done with Vanessa.

  “I know you have many questions, and they will make sense soon enough … perhaps a soothing tea or glass of blood-wine would help to calm you down?” the headmistress suggested.

  There was no way in hell I was going to drink something called blood wine, so I just shook my head as reverently as possible.

  “No, I’m fine, thank you,” I replied.

  “I insist,” she said before she walked over to one of her bookcases and pulled out a silver jar.

  I watched as she lifted the lid and pulled out a handful of something that looked like herbs or spices. Then she headed back to her desk and grabbed a goblet I thought was just an ornament. She slowly dropped the herbs into the goblet and gently blew over the surface. At first, I was confused because there was no water, but then I watched with fascination as a bubbling sound followed, and steam began to emit from the goblet.

  Theodora smiled before she came toward me, with the goblet in her small hands.

  “Here,” she said as she extended her hand. “Drink this … it will make you feel better.”

  I stared at the goblet with hesitation. She seemed to be the only one who could tolerate me at this point, but that didn’t mean I trusted her.

  “No, thanks,” I said. “How do I know you’re not trying to kill me?”

  “It’s not poison.” She smiled. “Go on, drink it.”

  Clearly, I had no other option here, so I took the goblet and drank the mysterious brew. It burned my throat, and my eyes watered as the beverage seeped down my throat. I had never tasted anything so foul before.

  “Shit,” I coughed. “What is this?”

  “Just your common sleeping aid,” the headmistress explained. “Root of willow, passionflower, wormwood, and a tinge of honey for flavor … drink it all. It will help, trust me.”

  “At least I recognize one of those ingredients,” I mumbled before taking another sip.

  “Drink it all,” Theodora said with a small nod. “It won’t take full effect otherwise.”

  I sighed and did as she asked, and as soon as I drained the glass, she smiled at me and then headed toward the door.

  “Let me give you a quick tour before you’re shown to your quarters,” the headmistress offered. “It won’t take long, come along now.”

  I shrugged and followed her into the black ballroom. She locked her office and then raised her hand to open another door at the end of the ballroom.

  At this point, I was getting used to watching doors open up on their own.

  “This place will seem a bit like a maze for a mortal,” she said as we walked through the doorway. “Don’t be overwhelmed by it.”

  Overwhelmed was the understatement of the decade. I was feeling every emotion possible.

  We moved down a corridor, and as I looked around, I noticed more paintings lined against the wall. Their eyes continued to follow us as Theodora guided me down the hallway and toward a row of doors.

  “These are where the classrooms are,” she said. “You’ll have five classes this semester as a preschooler … bone, shadow, blood, premonition, and curses … not necessarily in that order.”

  “Wait, what, a preschooler?” I repeated with a frown. “I’m not a child. Why would I be placed in a preschool?”

  “You are a child in this world, do not take it as an offense, it simply means you do not have the advanced skills that higher tier students possess,” Theodora replied, but not in a patronizing way. “Now, Vanessa will explain this all to you tomorrow in more detail. I want to get through this tour as quickly as possible before the brew begins to take its toll on you.”

  I quickly poked my head into the dark classrooms, and I noticed each room was colder than the last. We passed by the open doors, and then Theodora took a sharp turn and led me down another corridor.

  “That’s the library,” she said as she pointe
d to a massive, wooden door that was bolted with a golden chain. “Our most sacred section.”

  “Why is it locked?” I asked numbly.

  Whatever she had given me was taking its effect on me. I was dazed, and my bones felt like jelly.

  “We never allow preschoolers to enter,” she explained. “You must be in a higher tier to gain access.”

  That didn’t make much sense to me, nor did it seem fair, but I was in such a stupor I just shrugged it off.

  Theodora studied my face and then smiled.

  “You are growing weary,” she said.

  “I feel like I’m drunk,” I slurred with a lazy grin. “Might as well have given me the wine.”

  The headmistress chuckled and then placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “I’ll show you the banquet hall where you will take all your meals, and then you may clean yourself up and get some rest,” she replied. “Come along.”

  I nodded clumsily before I followed her into a massive room filled with wooden tables that had an elaborate plate setting at every seat. It looked like something out of a palace, where kings would host a marvelous feast for a neighboring kingdom, but the only difference was this room was also painted black, and the chairs were crimson red. There were massive stained-glass windows, too, and I could hear the bloody rain splattering against them.

  Just like the rest of the castle, this room had an ominous presence to it. When thunder struck, my legs nearly gave out underneath me, and I struggled to stand upright.

  I was about to pass out.

  “That’s enough for now,” Theodora said as she looked at me.

  I thought we were going to turn back around, but she wasn’t moving. Instead, she glanced down at a tear in my shirt on my right arm. I followed her gaze and stared at the dragon tattoo that was exposed.

  “Ah, you’re a fan of body markings, I see,” she said with a small smile.

  “You mean tattoos?” I mumbled. Everything was becoming a blur. “Yeah … I suppose I am, but I don’t remember getting this.”

  I looked down at my body and suddenly remembered I had an entire collection of tattoos. I had eight in total, but I couldn’t remember why or when I got them.