by Sarina Dorie
Her translation was like reading Chaucer in Old English. I muddled through the description, trying to translate Old English into modern. “It sounds like you need someone from the Lost Red Court.” No one talked about the Red affinity other than a few obscure references in old textbooks.
“Sometimes I don’t realize how much of an idiot you are until you open your mouth. It clearly says the purpose of this spell is for when one doesn’t have a Red affinity. This spell—it’s a potion really—is so powerful it won’t require forbidden magic to work. However, if one wanted to infuse more power into it, she could. That would take several Witchkin with a spectrum of affinities or one with a Red affinity to assist. Since the Lost Red Court died out a few hundred years ago, that’s out of the question.” She arched an eyebrow at me. “Unless you know something I don’t… .”
“No,” I said quickly. “Why would you think that? Anyway, what’s the spell specifically for?”
“This spell is the answer to your mother’s research. It could be used to cure Fae of their fertility problem or bring back the dead.” Vega leaned back, looking smug. “It’s the reason Thatch asked you to go on a wild goose chase, collecting unicorn horn for him.”
“Could a spell like this cure a curse?” Thatch had claimed he needed the ingredients to cure Derrick, but for all I knew, he might have been using the spell from my mother’s diary to solve the Fae Fertility Paradox.
“This spell can make a hex, curse, or enchantment. It can create a counter curse and so much more.” She cackled ominously. “I can use it for anything I want.”
That sounded ominous. I sincerely hoped she had no idea what I was. There would be no end to my problems if that was the case.
Now that I knew the spell had a use, I wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge. I supposed I could use it to help someone—if I had all the ingredients—which I didn’t. I still hadn’t seen Derrick or heard news about him from Khaba.
That meant I needed help from someone who might be able to find Derrick through divination.
I left Art Club early after school, awarding Imani and Greenie the task of overseeing activities.
I went to the kledstaff room and studied the schedules. If I had a prep period while Pro Ro taught yoga, I could offer to teach his class for him. Unfortunately, our schedules didn’t line up. Pinky had a prep during Pro Ro’s yoga class, though Puck had filled it with Latin. I was pretty sure Pro Ro spoke Latin. He could potentially teach that subject. And Pinky had boasted of his yoga skills enthusiastically several times. I wondered if I could get them to switch. If I convinced Pinky to agree to this, perhaps Pro Ro would then use his powers to search for Derrick.
I hiked across the school to Pro Ro’s room.
He groaned, seeing me. “Not you again. I’m still recovering from my last encounter with you.”
“Sorry about that. Hey, I was wondering if it would be helpful if I found someone else to take yoga off your hands. Maybe if you switched electives with someone.” I didn’t dare say who, lest he go speak to Pinky himself.
He glowered at me. “Fine. You find someone to switch classes with me and administration approves, I’ll happily perform any spell you want.”
That was all I needed! My nose guided me to the ripest part of the wing, Pinky’s classroom. Setting foot in Julian’s room momentarily creeped me out. I was sort of glad the door was locked. I knocked, but no answer came. I ventured to the male dormitories next. I tapped on the door. Pinky peeked out. He wore a pair of black-framed glasses, similar to Josie’s.
“Hi, Clarissa.” His voice was timid, wary. “It’s a surprise seeing you here.”
“In the male dorm wing?” I asked, breathing through my mouth. “I think it’s okay if I stay in the hall. I’m just not supposed to be in your room.”
“No, I mean, it’s a surprise to see you here talking to me. To see anyone here talking to me. Everyone treats me like I’m a pariah.”
“Oh,” I said. “Probably people are just busy.”
He crossed his arms, looking unconvinced.
I plunged on, not wanting him to thwart me from my mission. “I wondered if you would help me with something. Pro Ro teaches yoga class, but he hates it. He said he’d agree to do a favor for me if I can find someone to switch classes with him. I noticed you’re teaching Latin at the scheduled hour of yoga class. If Pro Ro speaks Latin, I thought it might be a nice trade since you enjoy yoga, and he doesn’t.”
“Huh,” Pinky said. “I do like yoga more than Latin. It would be way less work for me.”
“Will you do it?”
“What are you getting out of this? Maybe you think I’m just a dumb sasquatch, but I’ve noticed the social dynamics here. It isn’t like you and Pro Ro are BFFs.”
“He’s performing a spell for me, a divination spell to locate someone I know. I’m afraid Invismo has been snatched by the Fae, and I need help finding him.”
Pinky nodded. “I could talk to Pro Ro about it.” He sounded hesitant.
“That would be great! We can go see him right now.”
“Every time I try to talk to him, he always makes an excuse why it isn’t a good time. He isn’t rude, just… .What is it about him? Pro Ro and Vega Bloodmire, I get that they’re both Celestors, and they’re the most academic and powerful of Witchkin, but neither will talk to me. Miss Bloodmire is condescending and mean. Mr. Thatch is curt. I thought the Amni Plandai teachers at this school would be friendly at least, but they aren’t. The Lupis are standoffish. Grandmother Bluehorse walks the other way when she sees me. I thought Josie and I might be friends—we used to work with each other and were friends—but she keeps avoiding me too. Why does everyone treat me like I have a contagious disease?”
“I don’t know.” My eyes watered from the proximity to him.
“But you must. You do it to me too. The only reason you’re talking to me right now is because you want something from me.”
Guilt churned in my stomach along with nausea at his odor. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be like that and use people.”
“I don’t care about that. I just want to know why people won’t talk to me. I haven’t done anything wrong, not like that one staff member. I heard one teacher here tore off Pro Ro’s turban. I didn’t do anything like that.”
Did he seriously not know that was me? “If I tell you, will you promise not to be mad?”
He nodded, his fur flopping around. It sent up fresh waves of toxic musk into the air.
“And you’ll still consider going to Pro Ro and trading classes? Even if you don’t like what I have to say?”
“Yes! Just tell me!” His high nasally voice rose.
My chest tightened in panic. This was an introvert’s worst nightmare. “So, um, the thing is… .” I grasped for the right words. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Some people feel… . Maybe you’ve heard people talk. . . . Vega put it bluntly to you several times… .”
His eyebrows rose in expectation.
I would rather have yanked out my fingernails one by one than be the bearer of the unwelcome news. “Do you know where I’m going with this?”
“No.”
Eloquence eluded me. I blurted it out. “You smell.”
“What? No, I don’t.”
“You do.”
He laughed. “What’s the real reason? I committed some kind of faux pas, didn’t I? It was because I showed up the first day without clothes?”
Did I want to make this easy on myself or tell him the truth? “No. That’s the real reason. You have an … odor.”
“That’s such a Witchkin thing to say. It’s so anti-sasquatch. You’re as bad as the Fae.” He crossed his arms, looking indignant.
“I don’t know anything about that. You asked me to tell you the truth, so I did.”
“And just what do they say I smell like?” He huffed little breaths that reminded me of an animal.
There was no delicate wa
y around this. This wasn’t going to be easy to hear. “How often do you shower?”
“Shower? Like stand in a rainstorm? Occasionally.”
“No, use a hot shower inside the male teachers’ restroom?” I asked.
He looked absolutely perplexed.
“Or take a bath?”
“Oh, that. A couple times a year. In the spring and summer mostly. I prefer ponds.”
No freaking way. No wonder he smelled as ripe as a dumpster in summer. He probably hadn’t washed since September.
“Well, you might have to change that. Many Witchkin shower and bathe more frequently. Like every day.”
“No.” He shook his head adamantly. “No one would do that.”
“Yeah, they do. Ask around.” I casually backed a step away, giving myself more fresh air. “How about deodorant? Do you use antiperspirant?”
“That isn’t healthy. Antiperspirants clog pores and get caked in fur.” He clenched his fists at his sides.
“Maybe there’s something more natural you can use.” I offered him an encouraging smile. “After you figure it out, I think you’re going to find it easier to make friends.” I tried to soften the words as best I could, but his body language told me I wasn’t succeeding.
He shifted from foot to foot in agitation and threw up his hands in disgust. “Sure, and while I’m at it, why don’t I just shave off all my fur and wear a full set of clothes? The real problem is that I’m a sasquatch. You Witchkin can’t accept a beautiful hairy man into your ecosystem of cool because you’re too busy imitating our Fae oppressors who are keeping everyone down.” He pointed an accusing finger at me. “Just because I don’t conform to your Witchkin hygiene doesn’t mean I smell.” He stepped back and closed the door in my face.
I had a feeling he wasn’t going to trade classes with Pro Ro.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
A Lunch Duty to Remember
On Thursday, I showed up to my cafeteria duty on time. As I neared the teacher table up on the dais, Thatch skulked out of the shadows and snuck up on me. “I thought I’d find you here. Khaba isn’t here to rescue you this time.”
I tried not to let my panic show. “I need to—”
“Yes, of course. Monitor our juvenile delinquents. By all means. I’ll walk with you.”
I wove through the crowd of students coming in from the nearest archway. It took everything in me to keep a cheerful smile on my face and not let my suspicion show. I passed students seating themselves at tables for lunch.
Thatch strode by my side. “It seems you’ve been keeping secrets from me, Miss Lawrence. Again.”
“Oh?” Crap.
“One would think you’d learned the futility of this by now.”
“Nope. Not me.” I tried to sound unconcerned. I casually wiped my sweaty palms against my skirt.
It had to be about Derrick. I’d expected him to be angry. From the haughty amusement in his expression, I grew less certain.
“Let’s talk about Derrick, shall we?” He smiled, a little too victoriously.
“Here? Now?” I glanced at another wave of students pouring in from the far end of the round room. “With all these students who might overhear us?”
“You were the one who was complaining about delays, about interruptions.”
I scooted back toward the dais where there were no students. The raised area would be ideal where I could watch the students while they would serve as witnesses to anything he did to me.
“There’s no need to keep pretending,” Thatch said as he shadowed me.
A student shrieked somewhere behind me. That was in no way unusual considering I was surrounded by hormonal teenagers. I turned away from Thatch, glancing over the students to see what was going on, but I was shorter than most of the students darting about. More students cried out. Thatch turned now too.
That was about the time I noticed the change in the students. A ripple of movement cascaded away from the center of the room. Human traffic leapt and ran away. As the crowd parted I caught a glimpse of a glowing sword, blue fire dancing over the blade.
I recognized that sword. Thatch had used it to temporarily put Bart to sleep.
Like a vision out of a mirage, flickers of tan skin bobbed closer before shifting out of sight. It was only when Derrick peeled off his invisible ski cap and I saw his blue hair that I knew it was him.
“Merlin’s balls. What is he doing with my sword?” Thatch asked.
Derrick ran straight toward us.
“Derrick.” Thatch put up a hand in a placating gesture. “Stop. Now.”
His voice was lost in the screams of students. Derrick’s eyes fixed on Thatch. He raised the sword.
Thatch stepped in front of me. He held out his wand. A burst of light shot out of his wand like lightning.
Derrick crumpled to the floor. The blue flames dancing over the blade extinguished. I ran to Derrick and dropped to my knees. His skin grew translucent. He faded away, along with my hope. By the time I reached out to where he lay, he was gone.
Tears filled my eyes. I turned to Thatch. “What did you do with him? Did you kill him?”
Thatch’s face was a splotchy red. “How could you be so careless? I thought you understood the importance of keeping your magic under control. I trusted you to use common sense and behave reasonably, and this is what I get.”
His words flowed past me like water. I floated above his chiding, clinging to the life raft of desperation. “What did you do to him?”
“What I should have done a long time ago. He’s gone. Forever.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
And I’ll Get Your Little Dog Too
The cafeteria broke into chaos. Students screamed and ran in different directions. Khaba appeared in a puff of smoke in the doorway. Vega ran in from the hallway and collided into him.
Thatch grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. “You’re coming with me.”
“No, I don’t want to go with you.” I tried to wrench my arm away, but he held on to me too firmly.
“You don’t have a say in the matter. We have things to discuss.” He swept his other hand over my head in a gesture I recognized from the times he’d used his transportation spell.
I didn’t know where he intended to take me, but I already knew I didn’t want to go there. He would enslave me and make me the Raven Queen’s servant like he was. He would curse me and take away my will.
He would do the same thing to me as he’d done to Derrick.
“No!” I said, but my voice came out reedy and thin.
The air was sucked from my lungs, and a cyclone of wind whipped around me. My hair came free of my ponytail and fell into my eyes. The world was a black-and-pink blur. When the movement stopped, my stomach continued to flip-flop. I wobbled and reached out to steady myself.
Thatch shoved me into a chair. I pushed my pink hair out of my face. I was in his office, not the dungeon. The Raven Queen was nowhere in sight. I sat in the metal torture chair.
He plopped himself into his comfortable ergonomic chair. “I specifically told you to stay away from Derrick. I told you he was cursed and you would only make things worse for yourself and him. And you did.”
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, blurring my vision. “You killed Derrick. You just killed my boyfriend.”
He grimaced, not looking all that broken up about it. “You left me no other choice but to remove him from this equation.”
I stood up, ready to launch myself across the desk and strangle him.
Of course, if I had been thinking logically, I might have remembered my tendency for physical violence was what had gotten me in so much trouble with Pro Ro.
Thatch flicked his hand at me. An unseen force pushed me back into the chair. My arms fell onto the armrests. Pressure squeezed my limbs. It felt like invisible ropes held me in place, similar to the spell Vega used to threaten me with, only this was firmer. I had a feeling I wasn’
t going to be able to kick myself free. The ropes shifted and tightened. I froze. These weren’t ropes. They were snakes. Their scales raked over my bare arms. Another slithered across my belly and coiled around me, binding me to the chair.
The bonds were invisible when I glanced down, but I didn’t doubt they were serpents—either brought out by my own fears from the fear chair—or brought out by Thatch’s sadistic streak because he knew I was afraid of them.
Thatch steepled his long fingers in front of him. “Do I have your attention now? Or are you going to exhibit further displays of juvenile aggression?”
I sobbed and tried to wipe my face on my shoulder. “I hate you,” I said.
“That may be the case, but it has little effect on the matter as it now stands. Your arrogance and selfish disregard for the rules I set in place for your safety have endangered you, as well as your students. You—”
“I broke his curse. My affinity and virgin’s blood broke the Raven Queen’s hold on him.”
He snorted. “You wish.”
“You still work for the Raven Queen.”
His lips thinned, and his nostrils flared. “I do not.” He fought to keep his anger in check, but I could already see I’d ruffled his feathers.
I pressed the proverbial blade deeper. “I know you tortured Derrick. He told me.” I had seen it. “He said you attacked him. You were the one who cursed him with invisibility.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
That proved it right there. Thatch wouldn’t even admit he’d lied to me. He was as much of a villain as Derrick had thought he was. “You’re a liar. I’m not going to listen to you anymore.”
“I omitted certain details about my knowledge of Derrick’s whereabouts and concealed his identity for your protection. I found him a job at this school and looked after him so that no harm would come to him. If you weren’t such an ungrateful, spoiled brat, perhaps you would be able to see that.” He lifted his chin in his superior, snooty way. “I can see more than ever I was justified in my reasoning to conceal the truth, as you’ve shown how sneaking, conniving, and untrustworthy you are.”
