Witches Gone Wicked

by Sarina Dorie

  When he was finished, the air around him shimmered more intensely than ever. He was so beautiful. Green magic of the forest pulsed through him. He eased into the chair behind his desk.

  My restless leg syndrome faded, and I was left with languid muscles. Thinking was an effort through the fogginess of my brain. I slouched back in my chair, smiling back at Julian. It felt as though all my inhibitions had been removed.

  I dreamily blurted, “Have you ever heard of a Red affinity?”

  He bit his lip. “That’s a dangerous question. Why do you ask?” He glanced out the doorway.

  Vega passed, looking especially grouchy as she eyed me in Julian’s room.

  “No reason,” I said quickly. Why did everything I wanted to know about have to be dangerous? My drowsy bloom of fatigue faded as the carelessness of what I’d asked crashed me back into reality. I hoped Vega hadn’t heard me.

  “I think I have a book on it somewhere.” He stretched his neck and yawned. “That ward was exhausting. I hope you don’t mind, but magic lessons are going to have to wait.”

  If he was as fatigued as I’d felt, I didn’t blame him. It was for the best, anyway. I needed to leave before I blurted out every single secret thought in my head. If that’s what his magic did to me I was going to have to be more careful.

  He took my hand in his. Lightning jolted through my core, and I withdrew my hand, afraid I was about to explode. The heel of someone’s shoe squeaked out the door.

  Was it a coincidence Pro Ro happened to walk by?

  The following day, with the influence of mood-altering candy, I had a fresh start with classes two, four, six and eight—the B day. I was back to the joys of another A day after that, periods one, three, five, and seven. I didn’t have the entire jar of candy, but I was armed with extra wards. Even so, my palms sweated, and I had trouble keeping my smile tacked in place. Khaba sat in on my class to ensure my day started out on the right foot. The first student handed me a note, eyes cast on the floor, downtrodden. The next student handed me a note, and the next one did too. The papers were apology letters!

  “Mr. Thatch made us write them in detention,” a student complained.

  It looked like my apology notes were written in blood. Well, that was kind of sweet in a creepy way. It was the thought that counted. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure Thatch had intervened with the students on my behalf because he wasn’t completely evil, or because he just liked to punish the kids and make their lives miserable.

  The first week was a battle even with sweets and extra wards. The second week wasn’t much better. Partly that was because I spent my weekend planning a curriculum around a lack of art supplies. Khaba did bring me five reams of low quality computer paper he’d scrounged up, two boxes of golf pencils, and a giant tub of crayons. He also carried in a box of recycled paper from the office, one side covered with memos or discarded worksheets, the other side blank.

  “I’ll drop off recycled paper once a week from the administration wing,” Khaba said.

  It wasn’t exactly the art materials I’d wished for, but it was something. I now considered I should have asked for information as my third wish. Not about my affinity—that was too dangerous, but I could have asked him about my mother or Derrick. Or what was up with Thatch.

  Then again, that paper did come in handy. Too bad the students made paper airplanes out of them. That was sort of art.

  I counted the days that passed without another major incident. I hadn’t accidentally killed anyone at the school or blown anything up. Julian’s wards seemed to help.

  On Friday of week three, I woke to the usual cuckoo clock’s screams. Blinking, I found Vega, clad in her all-black nightie, retrieving her towel and shower bag from her wardrobe. She magicked the shutters open with a wave of her hand. The gray ebb of dawn illuminated the room. Even though she had just risen, her short bob was immaculate. She lacked my usual bedhead or groggy appearance.

  Her lack of calling dibs on the bathroom made me sit up. She crouched down and picked up a note that had been slid under the door.

  She sighed dramatically. “Homeroom is canceled. We have an emergency staff meeting at eight. I wonder who died this time.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Teaching to the Test

  Since I didn’t have a homeroom, I usually could take more time getting to my classroom in the morning than the other teachers. The day of the staff meeting, I had to cut out my meditation, compete for the bathroom with four other female teachers, eat breakfast, and get to the meeting on time. I made it to the staff room at seven fifty-nine. Everyone looked at me when I walked in like it was my fault the meeting had been called.

  Josie waved, and I sat next to her. Vega slouched against the back of her chair on my other side, managing to exude elegance even though she barely looked awake.

  Jeb fidgeted with the curls of his silver mustache. “I hain’t called y’all to this emergency meetin’ for nothin’. I’m afeared someone broke into my office last night. Mr. Khaba, will you appraise the staff of the situation?”

  Khaba gestured to the chalkboard on the wall. It was hard to tear my gaze from his far too-tight hot-pink pants. The blank green slate wavered behind him. A diagram of Jeb’s office appeared in chalk. “Protective wards to keep students out are set here at the front door, at these windows, and at this back door.” He pointed. “In addition to my wards, Jeb boobytraps his desk, along the bookcase, and in various places where he keeps potions and items that might endanger the students. We utilize a variety of spells that use different affinities. That way, even if a student breaks through our fire spell because he or she excels at fire magic, the student still will fail at an ice spell, a venomous-animal spell and so on.”

  All this was easy enough to follow, but I had a feeling there was something more to the reason we’d been called in. Perhaps someone had gotten hurt from that venomous-animal spell.

  Khaba tapped the drawing of the principal’s office. “I have ascertained the break-in occurred sometime between one and two a.m. while my security staff was patrolling other parts of the building.”

  “Or sleeping on duty,” Vega muttered under her breath.

  Khaba’s eyes narrowed. “The guard on duty happened to be patrolling the teacher wing at the time of the break-in.”

  “Ugh. Watching us in our sleep, then.” She snorted.

  “As far as we can tell, nothing of value was stolen. Possibly a book from the glass case.”

  A book? A book on the forbidden arts? Or something only Thatch didn’t want people to know about?

  “The only item definitely stolen was a bottle of whiskey or bourbon that was left on the desk, but that may have been mistaken as a gift by a brownie and be unconnected to this incident,” Khaba said. “We are checking Principal Bumblebub’s list of inventory to confirm nothing more was stolen. Either the culprits didn’t find what they were looking for, or they were scared off when my security guard returned to the West Tower.”

  “Why have we canceled homeroom for this?” Jasper Jang rubbed at his bald head, his expression confused. From the way he projected his voice, I could see why he was a theatre and music teacher. “Students break in, vandalize, and steal all the time. Remember last year when Rex Danu urinated all over my prop room?”

  “Thank the gods he graduated,” someone whispered. “I bet the Fae snatched him up and swallowed him whole.”

  I glanced around the table, wondering who would say such a horrible thing about a student.

  “This is the principal’s office we’re talking about. Of course we should be concerned.” Professor Bluehorse pointed a gnarled, arthritic finger at Jasper. “Show some respect to your elders.”

  Khaba smoothed his fingers over the lapel of his leopard-print shirt. He’d actually buttoned four of the buttons today. “This is the first time a student’s magic didn’t set off my alarms. The door was unlocked with a key, not with magic. The wards at the door didn�
�t react, nor did the others I’d set in place around the room. They acted as though an administrator was there, not an intruder. But our surveillance using the magic mirror and crystal balls shows no one. We can see the glass being smashed and items thrown to the ground, but we can’t see who did it.”

  “So they had invisibility charms,” Coach Kutchi fished something out of the pocket of her tracksuit. A steaming mug of coffee appeared in her hand, the fragrance of mocha and caffeine wafting toward me. “I see it all the time on the field. Kids try to be sneaky and sabotage the other team.”

  “That alone wouldn’t work,” Jeb said. “As Mr. Khaba stated, they managed to bamboozle our wards and make a big bag of nails of my office.”

  Pro Ro raised his hand. “As professor of divination and soothsaying, I would like to help with the investigation.”

  Khaba nodded. “We’ll take all the assistance we can get.”

  Julian waved his hand. He flashed a smile that showed off such straight white teeth it would have made his dentist proud. “As professor of History of Magic—”

  Thatch coughed loudly. “Because a history lesson is going to help them investigate who did this.”

  Julian sat back in his chair, his expression hurt.

  Khaba went on. “If Principal Bumblebub’s door hadn’t been left wide open, we wouldn’t have known until this morning. My security guard took one look at the shattered glass panels of the bookcase and woke me. Clearly this is sophisticated magic.”

  There must have been something I was missing. I didn’t see how using a key and smashing a bookcase was magic.

  “I suggest we give the entire school Saturday detention,” Vega said. “Just until the guilty party comes forward and confesses.”

  Jackie Frost crossed her arms. “Are you volunteering to give up your Saturday to do this, Miss Bloodmire?”

  “I have someone else more … persuasive in mind for the job.” Vega eyed Thatch with a smile. It was unlikely he could punish all students in his detention.

  Jeb frowned. “Other ideas?”

  Pro Ro cleared his throat. “This isn’t necessarily advanced magic. The culprit may have simply had a key. That isn’t sophisticated; it’s theft. He or she used brute force, again an inelegant solution. Invisibility cloaks and temporary transparency spells are a dime a dozen.”

  I was glad I wasn’t the only one who saw this as a nonmagical occurrence. This person didn’t even need the key to the office. He or she might have used a skeleton key or a lockpick kit like the one I had at home.

  Jeb chewed on his mustache, thinking it over. “That means it’s someone who don’t think like a Witchkin. A new student coming in fresh from the Morty Realm for sure. Someone who ain’t got no magic under his belt yet. You can hang your hat on that.”

  “Detentions to all freshman, then,” Vega said.

  Khaba raised a finger to stop her. “This person still had enough power to not set off alarms past the entrance. Most fourteen-year-olds haven’t enough skill, nor enough raw talent. This child is different.”

  Teachers exchanged glances with each other. I could tell what they were thinking. A freshman. Someone different. They thought it was Imani. But she was a sweet kid. She wouldn’t break into his office. She had no reason to steal alcohol, books, or anything else.

  “What’s the name of that new girl? Imani Jefferson? Washington?” someone said.

  “The one with the rainbow affinity?” Silas Lupi’s voice rose.

  “No one has a rainbow affinity,” Thatch said adamantly. “She is Celestor.”

  There had been a lot of red flashing in the rainbow fire. I had a feeling she was red like me. Dread settled like a lump in my gut as the teachers continued to murmur about Imani.

  Josie nudged me. “Only the avatar, master of all four elements… .”

  I didn’t laugh. An innocent girl was about to get blamed. This felt like a witch hunt.

  Thatch cracked his knuckles, his grin sinister. “I would like to volunteer my persuasive skills in questioning the child.”

  That was the tipping point. I would not allow Thatch to touch her and torture her in the dungeon. I stood up. “It wasn’t her. I know her. It wasn’t.”

  “You know?” Thatch raised an eyebrow. “Would you care to enlighten us on your method of divination?”

  That was just like him to come up with a snarky response. “She used to be my student at Hamlin Middle School. I can vouch for her character.”

  Thatch leaned back in his chair, ever the picture of nonchalance. “I would still prefer to question her myself and come to the same conclusion.”

  Jeb waved a hand at me, indicating I should sit. I did so, frustrated I didn’t have greater sway here.

  Jeb went on. “This is exactly why I hide those dang answer keys to the exams in the vault under the school, behind multiple locked doors, and guard the doors with dangerous creatures—Or I will after they arrive next week, anyway.”

  I raised my hand. “Why don’t you just let the students steal the answer key and then change the answers on the test? Then you could see who stole it when they take the test.”

  The teachers busted up laughing. Apparently, I’d said the wrong thing. Yet again.

  “Bless your heart, Miss Lawrence. Your naïveté is so endearing.” Jeb doubled over and wiped his eyes.

  Professor Bluehorse smoothed her hand over the moss and lichen growing on her staff. “We don’t make the exams students need to take each semester. Our Fae elected schoolboard does. Every school takes the same tests.”

  I stared in open-mouthed horror. “So everything we teach is to the test?” Ugh! This was just as bad as public schools with standardized tests. Only, in the real world—the Morty world—it wasn’t Fae who decided who got funding based on test scores or anything else, it was the government. This system didn’t seem much better.

  Jackie Frost pointed an accusing finger at me. “You don’t teach to any test. You just teach arts and crafts. Only core classes have required exams we have to grade.”

  “It isn’t like elective teachers don’t give tests,” Coach Kutchi said.

  The meeting descended into squabbling over priorities of subject area content. Why had I ever thought the education system in another dimension would be any different than it was at home? Jeb sat in his chair, leaning his forehead into his hands. His eyes were dark with lack of sleep and his frame fatigued. He didn’t stop the teachers from arguing amongst themselves. He closed his eyes and appeared to doze off.

  Mr. Khaba cut through the commotion. “Do you not understand the seriousness of this? This isn’t about a simple act of vandalism. If a student can get into Principal Bumblebub’s office, they can get the answer keys under the school. They can get into … other places under the school.”

  “Like the crypt?” Vega said, her face paling.

  She would care more about the dead than the living.

  Jeb sat up at the mention of his name. “Hear, hear, Mr. Khaba. Well said. We can’t have this interfering with our sleep and causing backdoor trots.”

  I tried to figure out what the principal was talking about.

  Khaba’s brow furrowed. He repeated himself more slowly. “Any student who is clever enough, skilled enough, and resourceful enough to open up secret vaults under the school to retrieve answer keys, can also unleash the forbidden magic Loraline stored there.” He looked out across the table of staff. “Do you all want an unspeakable evil set free and wreaking havoc at this school?”

  I shrank back as people glared openly at me. I supposed they thought the rotten apple didn’t fall far from the maternal tree.

  “It would be unthinkable.” Thatch crossed his arms. “Worse than a free djinn.”

  Jeb tugged at his beard. “Is that sarcasm, Felix? This ain’t no laughing matter.”

  Why didn’t they just store the stupid answer keys off campus or somewhere not next to the vaults of unspeakable horrors? Duh. I co
nsidered saying something to that effect, but I didn’t want the entire staff to laugh at my “endearing naïveté” again. I would ask Josie instead later.

  I had a more pressing question anyway. “It seems like there’s a lot of student mischief and dark energies and forbidden magic going on at our school. But I don’t know how to protect myself from black magic,” I said. “How am I supposed to teach students when they’re hexing me?”

  Jeb stroked his snowy white beard. “Yep, I smell what you’re steppin’ in. You need someone to teach you advanced magic and pronto. Volunteers?” His gaze roved over the teachers.

  Vega crossed her arms and looked away. The older teachers glared at the principal defiantly. Josie bit her lip. Tentatively she raised her hand. “I can teach simple charms and herbal magic.”

  Thatch snorted. “You? The human studies teacher? Please. What are you going to teach her? The best place to buy granola and how to sneak into the back door of Happy Hal’s without students seeing you?”

  Her face paled. “No! I don’t—I mean, we don’t—I’m a good role model for students.”

  My loathing for Thatch twisted in my chest. What was his problem? The first chance I got, I wanted to speak with Jeb about Thatch’s animosity.

  Julian raised his hand. “I happen to be an expert at protection spells. I used to be the wards and magical self-defense teacher at my old school.” He winked at me. “I can teach you a thing or two about using a wand.”

  Vega nudged me with her elbow. “In case you’re too dense to realize it, that’s a euphemism.”

  My face flushed with heat. The truth was, I wouldn’t mind getting better acquainted with his … wand. So far he had been the nicest person to me on staff besides Khaba and Josie. I would have even considered dating him if a relationship with a coworker was allowed.