Now it’s Nicholas who grimaces. “It’s not that. It’s just . . .”
“You’re so boring,” Puck moans, flopping down onto a nearby tray of jelly donuts. “I get it. We get it. But I mean, Wren, when was the last time you did something other than homework?”
“That’s not fair,” I retort. “I did, um, that . . . that thing? You know?” I snap my fingers a couple times as if it’ll help jog my memory . . . but I have to stop.
Actually, Puck might have a point.
Nicholas reaches a hand across the table and lays it over mine. “It’s okay, Wren. You guys were together a long time. Anyone would be upset, especially the way that jerk-wad ended it.”
Merlin, beside me, shakes his head. “If I ever have the misfortune of meeting that bastard . . .” his hand balls up around his fork until the metal bends beneath the pressure.
I snatch my hand back from Nicholas. “I’m not upset!” Again, I have to drop my voice an octave afterwards. “I just mean, not more than’s expected.”
I sit back and let my hands fall into my lap, my gaze following after them. In some ways they’re right. It’s been a rough month. I’ve come to terms with the fact that Edgar and I were basically doomed the moment I drew my obsidian wand from that pool, and that’s made things somewhat easier. But that doesn’t mean that some nights when I’m lying alone in my bed, I don’t get sudden sharp pains in my chest like I’m getting stabbed by a dozen tiny ghosts.
You know, normal post-breakup stuff.
Other than that, I thought I was handling the whole thing pretty well. Up until now.
“Hey look,” Puck continues, despite the increasingly hard jabs Nicholas is subjecting him to, “I’m all about you staying here forever. I just was kind of having fun with naughty Wren. I’d like to have that girl back . . . if you know what I mean.”
He tilts his head downward and wiggles his eyebrows evilly.
While I’m trying to come up with something to say to all that, the zombies fixing wreaths to the beams pause overhead. I catch movement in the reflection of the water jug and know, the moment before she says my name, that Puck’s prayers are about to be answered. As much as I’ve tried to avoid it, something’s about to happen.
“Wren Davies, I was hoping I’d have a moment to speak to you this morning.”
Headmistress Evanora stands directly behind me, her face inscrutable in the distorted metal reflection. When I turn around, I’m disappointed to see it’s just as hard to read in person.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, then add a hasty, “Your Excellency.”
Puck and Nicholas snicker, and even Headmistress Evanora’s mouth twitches up the tiniest bit at the corners. Merlin is the only one who looks like he’s about to shrivel up under the table and die.
“In the future, Headmistress will do,” she says, clearing her throat a second.
I look up at her expectantly, trying to hide the deep dread forming in the pit of my stomach. I’m worried this is the moment I’ve been secretly afraid of for the last month—that they’ve found out about my little trip over to Highborne Academy.
“It’s about the winter solstice.”
And yet, somehow, that’s even worse.
I blanch. I have to force myself not to look at any of the boys, who’ve grown suddenly still as well.
“Yes?” I ask, carefully. “What about it?”
Headmistress Evanora briefly glances over at Puck, who looks like he’s about to have a heart attack, and then back to me. “Traditionally, female Dark Witches play an integral part of the solstice ceremony. It’s been a few years now since we were able to perform it properly. But now . . .” she holds out her hands to gesture in my direction.
I glance over my shoulder, knowing full well there’s no one else she could possibly be addressing.
“I . . . I’m not sure,” I say, stumbling over my words. I’m supposed to meet with my mother that night and really shouldn’t be making plans that might interfere. But I can’t tell her that.
Headmistress Evanora clasps her hands back together and nods. “Very well. I’ll not say I’m not disappointed, but Veronica has already agreed, so . . .”
“I’ll do it,” I say so quickly I shock myself. I go to take back my words, only to betray myself again. “Whatever it is, count me in.”
The headmistress looks pleased and promises to get me more details later today. I grin goofily up at her until she’s walked far enough away for me to bury my face in my hands in order to muffle my silent scream.
When I peek through my fingers at the boys, both Puck and Nicholas are barely able to hold back their laughter.
I drop my hands back down to my lap and stick my tongue out at them. “See, look who’s boring now.” I wait for Puck and Nicholas to nod their agreement before I turn to Merlin. “So, what did I just get myself into?”
I know this whole thing is a bad idea, but the minute I see Veronica sitting smugly in the other seat in the headmistress’ office, I know there’s no way in hell I’m backing out. Even if it’s the last thing I do here at the Academy of the Dark Arts, I’ll make sure Veronica doesn’t get what Veronica wants.
She might be the only other girl in a school with over a hundred sex-starved boys, but that doesn’t mean she gets to act like a total biotch all the time.
Unless, of course, I missed the memo.
Like all history teachers, Professor Hardbloom believes his subject to be more important than all the rest. So when two bats fluttered into the room, each one dropping a summons to the headmistress’ office on both my and Veronica’s desks, he was unable to hide his obvious annoyance.
Now the longer I stay here, in this office, I have the added bonus of annoying both him and Veronica. Sounds like a good way to start the week to me.
My ass has barely settled into the seat when Veronica’s hand shoots up into the air above her head.
Unless I’m mistaken, Headmistress Evanora lets out an almost inaudible sigh. “Yes, Veronica?”
Veronica sits up even straighter in her chair. “I wanted to go ahead and suggest Wren be assigned the role of the virgin,” she says, glancing sideways at me, “since I think it’d be most fitting, considering.”
I open my mouth to protest, only to clamp it shut again. I’m not going to play into Veronica’s little game . . . and I’m certainly not going to get into the details of my sex life with her, no matter how nonexistent it is.
Headmistress Evanora shuffles a stack of papers back into place on the top of her desk, then glances up at the two of us with her hands folded neatly at their top.
“That’s an excellent suggestion, Veronica,” she says, not sounding like she thinks it’s excellent at all, “though I’m not sure Wren is quite prepared for—”
Veronica swivels in her chair and stares me down. “Oh, you’re not scared, are you?” she asks tauntingly, cutting the headmistress off mid-sentence.
I shouldn’t fall for her obvious baiting, but I can’t help it. “I’m not scared of anything,” I quip. I mean, it’s a school ceremony. How bad can it be . . . right?
I glance over at Headmistress Evanora for some sort of reassurance, but from the look on her face, I get none.
“Well, I suppose that settles it,” Veronica says, sitting back in her seat and looking pleased.
All the headmistress can do is nod her head. “Very well. Veronica will play the part of the goddess,” here she nods at the fiery-haired girl seated next to me, “and you, Wren, will play the virgin sacrifice.”
I can only guess that my face goes completely white, because Headmistress Evanora nearly gets out of her seat to check my pulse herself. “Are you quite alright, Miss Davies?”
I nod my head, but I can practically hear my own teeth chattering. “Sorry,” I say, my voice sounding distant and foreign, even to myself, “I think I didn’t hear you right.”
Veronica is quick to butt in. “No, I think you did. It’s traditional during the winter ceremony to sacrifice a will
ing virgin. It’s just not every day that we get to use an actual one.”
“Miss Christie, that’s quite enough,” Headmistress Evanora snaps. She keeps her eyes on me. “There’s nothing to worry about, Wren,” she tries to reassure me. “It’s all just ceremonial now. You won’t actually be sacrificed.”
Veronica crosses her arms across her torso, making it obvious that she’d prefer the original version. You know, the one where I’d end up dead.
“In the spirit of keeping things as traditional as possible, after all it isn’t every year that we have two female students to participate, we’d like to continue on the act of servitutem.” It’s Evanora’s turn to sit back in her chair, looking infinitely pleased as she gestures back to Veronica.
“Sorry,” I say, swallowing again as the feeling slowly returns to the outer extremities of my body. “I’m not familiar . . .”
“For the next three weeks, in her role as the goddess, Veronica is duty-bound to serve your every need.”
Now that is something I can get behind.
“Headmistress,” Veronica starts, and I can tell from the simultaneous honey and venom mixing in her voice, that she didn’t count on this part. “Servitutem is an outdated tradition. Really, I think we can both agree it’s not necessary.”
Evanora looks at me. “If that’s how you both feel . . .”
“Hold on a second,” I say, raising my hand. “I disagree. I think we should try to keep things as traditional as possible. Like you said, Headmistress, how often are we given this kind of opportunity?” I lower that hand, only to reach over and squeeze Veronica’s. I give her the warmest, friendliest smile I can manage. “I think it’d set a good example for the others, show the rest of the school I’m fully . . . embracing . . . my duties as a Dark Witch.”
Veronica snatches her hand out of mine, but even she can’t argue with that.
“If there’s nothing else you need from us, headmistress, I think we should return to class before we’re missed,” Veronica says. She tries to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It’s really more like a bearing of her teeth.
Before dismissing us, Headmistress Evanora hands me a little book that lays out the expectations for my role as the virgin. Veronica is at the door so fast, I really don’t know how she does it in those heels.
“Hold on a minute, Veronica,” I say. She pauses with one hand on the door. I haven’t moved from my place at the desk. I wait for her to glance back at me to hold out the tiny book. “Would you carry this for me?”
She stands there at the door a moment, her eyes flickering from me, to the book, and finally up to the headmistress. Finding no sympathy there, she ever so slowly lowers her hand, crosses back to stand directly in front of me, and snatches the book from my hand.
Her face has gone as red as the hair atop her head. She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the literal hatred emanating off her.
Even Headmistress Evanora purses her lips, but says nothing as we leave to head back to class. If this is some ploy of hers to try to get the two of us to get along, she’s been gravely mistaken.
I said I wasn’t going to give Veronica what she wants, well I’ve changed my mind.
She asked for petty, so that’s what I’m gonna give her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The entire class knows something’s amiss when Veronica and I arrive together. She drops the little book on my desk with an exaggerated thud before stalking conspicuously back to her seat. All three boys shoot me a questioning look, but it isn’t until lunch that I’m actually able to explain exactly what’s going on.
Of course, Puck’s first reaction is to lean back in his seat and give me a once-over with hooded eyes. “The virgin, eh? I wonder, is it just for the role, or are you actually . . .”
Nicholas jabs Puck with his elbow to shut him up, but both he and Merlin have to stop and clear their throats—neither one of them looking me in the eyes for the seconds that follow.
I’m quick to change the subject. “There’s actually quite a lot to it,” I say, taking out the book and flipping it open to the first couple of pages. “I mean look at this. Ceremonial bathing, preparation spells, rehearsals, dress . . .”
Merlin slides the book closer to him and skims it over, then glances back up at me. “You do realize we have midterms in a couple weeks? There’s no way you can prep for both. I mean, I’m sorry Wren, but have you seen your own alchemy work?”
I ignore his jibe and flip forward to the part of the book outlining the goddess’ duties, leaning forward across the table conspiratorially as I do.
“That’s the best part,” I say. “I’m not the one who has to do all the grunt work—that’s Veronica’s job.”
“Well that explains the thing with the book,” Nicholas says.
Puck nods. “I didn’t know she had the strength in her fingers to carry a book—let alone more than one. She’s always getting someone else to do it for her.”
I sit back in my seat. “Not anymore. Well, at least for the next three weeks.”
Puck half gets out of his chair to read the book upside down. “You sure this is something you want to get into with Veronica?” he asks, after just a brief glance.
“Says the boy who was complaining about me being boring earlier,” I remind him, and that shuts him up.
“I, for one, will be glad to see that bitch suffer, just a little,” Nicholas says, to the surprise of all of us. We must be looking at him like he just grew a second head or something because he stops what he’s doing and sits up straighter. “What? I’m allowed to be mean too, you know.”
“I know,” I say, taking the book back from Merlin. “It’s just . . . unexpected, that’s all.”
“Careful now,” Puck says, trying to ruffle up the hair at the back of Nicholas’ head, “I’m supposed to be the spontaneous one.”
“Don’t go getting jealous on me,” I say absentmindedly as I look back over the preparations in detail. “I might have Veronica to do my bidding, but that’s not going to be enough for all this. I’m going to need every one of you. Unless the three of you have something better to do than, say . . .” I glance back up at them, “helping me with the ceremonial baths I’m supposed to start tonight.”
Suddenly, exams aren’t all that pressing anymore. From the way all three of them fall silent, they have all the time in the world.
Of course, they end up disappointed when I do not in fact, call on them to help me with that one particular part of my preparations.
For the most part, my experience with Dark Witches has been largely underwhelming. With a few notable exceptions, they’re mostly just like us—like Highborne Witches, I mean.
Except in the case of their winter solstice ceremonies.
At first, my involvement in the ceremony was purely out of spite for Veronica. And while that’s still an added bonus, I’m quickly drawn in by the ceremony itself, for ceremony’s sake. Of all the things I’ve witnessed here at the Academy for the Dark Arts, it’s by far the most fascinating.
And the most wicked.
I have a sneaking suspicion that though we’ve been reassured that the ceremony’s no longer actively in practice, it wasn’t discontinued out of some change in the cold dead hearts of Dark Witches. Rather, I think it had to end due to the ever-decreasing supply of females available for sacrifice.
While Veronica’s role as goddess involves a lofty speech and some carefully timed theatrics, my part in the process is mostly delegated to careful preparations ahead of time. And by careful . . . I mean time-consuming. Everything from what I can wear, eat, do, and even how I bathe myself is laid out meticulously over the coming weeks.
Fortunately for me, this gives me plenty of fodder for making Veronica’s life as miserable as possible. Ignoring Merlin’s caution, I find myself ordering her to do everything I possibly can—up to the point that she has to move into the girl’s dorm with me temporarily. She, of course, picks the room furthest away from me. In t
urn, I make sure to need her assistance at least six times a night, no less.
It’s especially satisfying when, only a week into our new little arrangement, I swear her heels get significantly shorter. For a girl like Veronica, that truly is the most terrible of sacrifices. Second only to actually being sacrificed, which I am frequent to remind her, is exactly what’s going to happen to me.
If it was only the winter solstice I have to prepare for, I’d chalk the whole thing up as a sort of solstice miracle . . . but that’s not the case. With mid-terms coming up in the days before the celebration, I more often than not find myself ordering Veronica around absentmindedly while trying to squeeze in a little extra studying.
In fact, the closer the date of the ceremony draws, the more of a burden it becomes just to keep Veronica occupied. It’s for this reason that when Merlin finds me and Veronica down by the swimming pool in the academy basement some nights later, I don’t notice him at first.
I’m sitting at the far end near the gouged claw marks in the wall with one foot dangling into the dark water. I have a book on alchemy in one hand, and a small measuring scale set beside me. The only sounds in the room are the soft echo of the water gently lapping against the sides of the pool and the scuffle of knees on cement as Veronica edges her way around the outside—lighting a thousand tea-light candles with single-use matches.
I told her it was so we could practice the ceremony early, but really, it’s just so I can keep her busy for hours without having to come up with any more tasks.
Finding the candles was harder than I thought. It involved the better part of an afternoon raiding every storage room I could find, but convincing Veronica to do it was easy enough. At this point, she doesn’t even argue anymore . . . just mutters under her breath about how much she wishes I was going to actually get sacrificed during the ceremony.
Dark Witch: A Paranormal Academy Romance (Academy of the Dark Arts Book 1) Page 22
