I changed into athletic gear in the locker room and tossed most of my shit into Neverspace, because some idiot was always losing something and asking us fae to help track it down. And I didn’t want to be that idiot.
Thirty minutes on the punching bag worked out my test frustration. Last year, I had abysmal form and couldn’t do more than a few minutes in a row before my arms wore out. Even though it was blasphemy to mix arm and leg day, I hit the weight room and scooted under the squat bar. Someone had left about 175 pounds of weight on it.
Crushing my previous record by twenty pounds sent adrenaline coursing through my veins. I squatted three sets of ten reps, then thought of the first time I’d surpassed my limits on the same machine. Anji and Dedrik had been my encouragement.
Thinking of Dedrik brought on a sense of melancholy that made me lose my mood for more punching drills.
I approached the counter to buy a drink, my aching muscles protesting every step along the way. A sporty, bronzed fae with rainbow hair was opening boxes of high-protein, meal replacement goodies. She tapped them with her crystal wand and dozens of bars flew onto the shelves. Beside her, a pale vampire dude rifled through a calf-high box marked Lost and Found.
“Brooke, are we going to clear this Lost and Found box or what? Some of this shit in here has been hanging since last spring.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “It’s not like we’re running out of space, Rick. It totally doesn’t hurt anything to let them stay for another semester.”
“Nobody forgets their stuff for a year.”
“There’s space.”
Rick ignored her and spilled the box’s contents onto the counter. “Seriously? Why are we holding on to ratty-ass hairbands?”
A gleam caught my eye, drawing my gaze to the scattered items. Nestled amidst the random mittens, scarves, water bottles, earbuds, hairbands, and other miscellaneous items lay a small wolf, no larger than my thumb. The moment I picked it up, a familiar, comforting warmth spread through my fingertips.
“Yours?” Brooke asked.
“No, but I recognize it.” The little charm had been carved from dark petrified wood, glossy and worn smooth on one side from a rough thumb. Blackwood. I knew who owned it. “Can I take it?”
Rick shrugged and scooped a few forgotten objects into the trash bin despite Brooke’s disagreement. “It’s been here forever. Sure.”
“Thanks.” I whisked the little wolf charm into my Dream Box.
Nothing could round out my trio of talismans better than a lingering gift from a friend—especially a deceased friend who would have given his life for me if needed.
I knew I was in trouble when I woke Monday morning to a dozen texts wishing me good luck on my Biology final exam, since everyone had heard me bemoaning my failing grade. Gabriel promised me dinner at Koharu Japanese Grill and Sushi Bar if I passed, and Pilar said if I made a B, I could have the gold blouse I’d borrowed from her and “forgotten” to return.
It looked better on me anyway.
At the end of the ninety-minute final, I returned to the townhouse to find Victor helping Holly, Lia, and Pilar with their Magical History studies.
“Don’t you have your own final exams?”
“Yeah, but the shit is going to be easy. I’m not worried. Get your notes out and have a seat. Fujimoto is on his way over in a couple hours to quiz you guys on Ethics when I leave for my exam.”
When I’d last spoken with Gabriel via text on my way to the science building, he hadn’t mentioned anything about indulging in study time. “The hell?” I whipped my phone out to check for another text, but he’d been silent since our last conversation promising the sky was the limit on my appetite if I pulled through.
“We’re doing study relays here to make sure everyone passes. Julien called dibs on International Magical Policy. He loves talking about France’s outlook toward the paranormal.”
Great, so I’d have to listen to unknown hours of Julien drilling data about the cooperation of foreign human governments with the magical community and their policies related to supernatural issues.
“Feckin’ grand,” Lia muttered, making me wonder if she’d read my mind, because I couldn’t tell if that was a sarcastic grand or a genuine grand. I put my money on it being somewhere in between, since we had a lineup of eye candy tutors—Holly had amazing taste in guys, because Victor was super dreamy—at our disposal.
And no time to admire and ogle them. Damn.
Victor shuffled his packet of notes. “In what year did the Great War of the Magi take place?”
Pilar and Liadan rushed to their notes. I flipped through mine as Ben wandered in fresh from whatever hellish final he’d been scheduled to take. He spent more time studying than all of us combined.
“Pull up a seat, Ben. You’re just in time for the magic hour with Victor.”
He groaned something unintelligible and collapsed into a beanbag face-down. “I’ll learn by osmosis. I had two finals this morning and one practical. I am dying.”
“The Great War of the Magi ended in 1865 shortly before the conclusion of the American Civil War,” Pilar read from her notes, “when wizards of African descent joined the north.”
Victor nodded. “Right. Even though they were free on account of the Wizard’s Pact of…?” He gestured with a hand, urging one of us to answer. I fumbled my notes.
“The Wizard’s Pact of 1619, when Archmage Frederick ruled no mage could ever rule another regardless of religion or skin color,” I blurted out first. Pilar shot me a dirty look for stealing her moment.
Victor nodded. “Right. So by the time of the Civil War, there were hundreds of black wizards across the north and hidden in the south. Archmage who—?”
“Burnside,” Lia said.
“Archmage Burnside didn’t approve of any wizards joining mortal wars and tried to prevent them from participating to free their non-magical brothers and sisters. Conflict broke out between both sides, magician against magician, until Queen Titania intervened. It wasn’t like the Emergence though, because they worked in secret without revealing their magical powers. You’re going to see a question asking you about the difference between the Civil War and World War II. Remember that. When the Emergence of the supernatural world happened to end Hitler’s reign, it was a complete and absolute exposure of everything magical.”
He drilled so much history into us that my head pounded like a herd of stampeding wildebeest by the time Gabriel came to take over for him.
I logged into my student account and checked for my exam grade.
Nothing yet. Shit.
Gabriel removed a pair of black wire spectacles from his pocket and slipped them on before standing straight, hands behind his back and chin raised to look down his nose at us. “And now, students,” he said in the best impression of Professor English I had ever seen or heard, “prove to me that you deserve anything more than a C for your mediocrity. Go ahead. I am waiting, Miss Maguire. What have you learned in my class?”
Lia snort-laughed until her entire face turned pink.
Giggling, I set down my phone. “That faeries are selfish, mages are arrogant pricks, and shifters are hungry assholes.”
“And vampires are hedonistic twats,” Holly added.
“Outstanding. A-plus,” Gabriel said.
We all burst out laughing.
He mimed removing the phony glasses, but I saw there was nothing in his hands at all—had it been one of his illusions?—but a notebook I didn’t recall him holding before. Gabriel didn’t show off his talent with illusions often. “All right. In all seriousness, the three of us agreed to make sure y’all get through this semester. You wanna start with fae and mages, or shifters and vamps?”
We began with fae and worked our way through the races, reaching werewolves before my phone dinged with a text from Anji.
Biology and Geology finals are up!
A tiny scream escaped me as I stabbed the student gradebook icon on my phone touch screen. The living r
oom grew quiet, everyone watching me. Pilar leaned forward on her seat.
I scrolled through older grades to the bottom where it displayed test scores and my final exam, the grade coming in at an 81.7. My final Biology grade from the semester had raised from a 67.2 to a 69.9, rounding up to a passing score. I’d only needed a 70. Ds were no longer acceptable for credit, a change put in by the university’s Board of Governors over the summer. A lot of people were on academic probation now.
“Well?” Pilar demanded. “Did you pass or not?”
“I got a B on the exam!”
Gabriel raised his brows. “But did it raise your average to passing? We eating out this weekend or what?”
Tossing the phone aside, I sprang from the couch and into Gabriel’s waiting arms. “I want the Kobe steak again!”
He swung me around and kissed me while my dramatic friends clapped, applauding either my success or the fact that we didn’t have to hide anymore.
Pilar threw a decorative pillow at us. “You two are sickening.”
Definitely applauding my success.
“They really are. More studying, less making out please,” Ben said.
We broke a couple hours later for Pilar and Liadan to take their afternoon Divine Intervention practical, the rest of us watching a movie with pizza and ice cream to defeat the exam blues until they returned. Dain had released us from lessons to focus on our studies, promising to resume meetings with us after the mortal holidays.
Julien arrived for the tail end of our action flick and chilled with us for a while until the girls returned. Once they decompressed with snacks, Gabriel left and Julien launched into his lecture with so much enthusiasm I remained awake instead of passing out on the couch.
God, I should have taken an afternoon nap, but test anxiety had pumped oceans of adrenaline through my veins and turned me into a jittery mess.
“Are you three prepared for your Channeling practical? I can give you pointers before I go.”
Liadan pressed both hands together. “Please.”
“Well, she has a dozen different practical exams prepared and rotates them at random, so no one can perfect only one glamour. So, it is wisest to do a little of everything leading up to your exam. Don’t overexert yourselves or draw from your Dream Boxes until then. Whatever the task she assigns during the practical, you will need all the magic you’ve saved this semester.”
“What? What’s the point of us gathering it if she’s going to make us waste it all on a test?” Pilar’s frown creased her brow.
“To prove you can do it,” Julien replied. “This is why it is called Channeling, mon amie, as you are meant to channel the entire contents of one Dream Box into a single impressive glamour. You have two more years after this to refill your box. Have you all acquired at least three talismans?”
We nodded.
“Good. You will need those as well.” He rose from his seat and smiled down at us. “I trust you will all do well. As for now, I suggest you get a good night’s sleep and leave the studying alone. As for you, Skylar…” He turned to me and put on his sternest expression. “Grab a couple hours of sleep. Gabriel assured me you would need it.”
Hating that he was right, I glanced at the clock and figured I could grab at least three hours before my meeting with Coach Bregman. And I’d need every minute to snooze before she crushed my confidence into paste.
Martial arts and boot camp operated on a pass/fail basis, since the instructors didn’t grade our performances. You either learned the shit they wanted you to learn, or you failed and had to take the course again. Coach Bregman told Holly and me that we’d be joining our sophomore peers next semester, which meant we’d be facing the dreaded obstacle course for our spring finals. I still couldn’t make the passing time, but that was a worry for later.
International Magical Policy and Magical Ethics made my eyes cross, but I actually felt good about my scores. Waking up Wednesday morning to passing grades in both—a B and an A- respectively—perked me up and put a pep in my step.
Now I just needed to get through Channeling.
Lia fed us a full breakfast, and then we headed to the exam hall together. Our classmates loitered outside the closed doors, everyone buzzing with anxious nerves while watching the clock. A few people muttered worries about lacking the talismans or faerie dust to meet the exam’s requirements.
The doors opened at the hour, on the dot, and everyone filed inside. Cages in varying sizes occupied a long table set against the back wall. Small ones with mice and hamsters, larger terrariums with snakes, a kennel filled with kittens, and other furry or scaly critters. Another table off to the side was covered in various fruits and vegetables, and in the center, a trio of perfectly round pumpkins.
“Oh no.”
Tristal glided into the room from an adjoining office. “Oh yes.”
I restrained from punching my professor in her too-perfect nose and took a seat. A few of the other panicking fae were on their phones, rushing to online documents to review their notes on what we fae dubbed “Cinderella Charms” because most of them had been created by my ancestor Tenanye on the night she guided Cinderella to the ball.
“You all know the story, so I have given you the means to recreate a portion of the tale in your modern vision, within your capabilities. And now that you’ve had a chance to see what you have to work with, I’d like everyone to step out into the hall. I’ll bring you in one by one.”
Pilar waited until we’d taken seats out in the hallway to have her little breakdown. She wrung her hands together and leaned her head back against the wall. “Oh no, this is awful. I barely managed to get this done last time.”
“What are you talking about? You glamour up the best dresses—on the first try, I might add—and you managed a maid in class a couple weeks back.”
“One who didn’t do anything,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t have used a cat. Ugh, I wish I didn’t use so much dust to make her. What if I don’t have enough today?”
Liadan rubbed her shoulder. “Well, at least you know cats are unsuitable, and now, so do we. No kittens for this project if we need them to do anything more than be snobbish twats.”
That got a laugh from our panicking friend. Pilar’s tense frame relaxed, and she dropped her hands into her lap. “You’re right. We can do this.”
Whoever entered to take their practical left through another exit, because no one returned to regale us with their passing or failing scores. Eventually, Pilar was up, then after her, Liadan. The time crawled by, and I hoped my friends had good luck with the whole thing.
“Miss Corazzi, your turn.”
As I stepped into the classroom, my insides quaked. The door shut with an ominous snick.
“Please step down, Miss Corazzi. Let me see what you’re capable of.”
If I was lucky, I could probably make a carriage from a pumpkin—for a toddler, but I didn’t think she wanted a battery-operated toy car—so I skipped over the vehicle bit for the moment and went straight to the animals.
A glossy crow cocked his head at me and hopped closer on his perch. When I walked over and offered my hand, the bird shuffled back and forth a few seconds before lowering his cool foot to my wrist.
“Let’s see what we can do with you, huh?” Once I unhooked his tether, I walked into the open space in the middle of the room and set him on the floor.
He was such a handsome bird—and perhaps it was my experience with watching the raven shifters transform—that it wasn’t difficult to imagine him as a man. I swirled my wand and drew a stream of concentrated magic around his small body with a vision in my mind of the human I wanted him to be. Faerie dust infused his feathers and glittered against his ebony down, glistened on his beak, and made him shine.
All at once, the glamour took root. The crow grew in size, wings becoming arms and beak becoming lips in a human face that was equal parts handsome and rugged. In my head I’d been imagining Italian underwear models. He looked down at himself,
smoothing his hands down the tailed black tuxedo jacket I’d fashioned for him, and smiled with genuine joviality. “I hoped you’d choose me. I love this game. How may I help?”
Finally! My mice never talked to me, only stared and sniffed around for cheese.
I glanced at Tristal. Her unchanging, stoic impression sent knots of apprehension tightening through my guts. Was this not enough?
“I’m not sure yet,” I said to the crow. Moving closer, I lowered my voice. “What can you tell me about the vehicle portion? I don’t think I can make a car. Can you even drive?”
“Poorly, but let me ask you this: any manner of moving from place to place counts as a vehicle, does it not?”
“Can you ride a bike?”
He cocked his head and smiled. “I’ve never tried, but I learn quickly. This will be fun.”
I walked back to the table covered in produce and plucked an unblemished red apple from the pile. After motioning my crow back a little, I set the apple in the middle of the floor and then fetched my Dream Box from the Netherspace. One tap of my wand to its lid then a flick toward my component did the trick.
Currents of glittering faerie dust spiraled from my hoard and circled the fruit. From the apple sprang an elegant rickshaw with two black leather bench seats and a scarlet cover. The wheels shone brand new, the rims glossy gold.
“Now, for the final touch…”
A few swishes of my wand sent sparkling motes swirling around my professor. Her pewter gray blouse and black pencil skirt transitioned into a slinky, black sleeveless dress. Which may have been a grand mistake, since it revealed why our professor favored high-necked tops.
Someone had hurt Professor Tristal once. Her body told a story I’d only seen on some of the most grizzled sentinels passing through our campus. Numerous scars slashed across her collarbones, each of them red and raised, while the shiny discoloration of a severe burn spread from her shoulder down one arm.
An awful, awful feeling in my gut said those were only the scars I could see.
The Scary Godmother Page 23
