by H. D. Gordon
“Why’d it work for you and not for me?” Roo asked.
“Why can you talk to dead people and I can’t?” I countered.
She snorted. “It’s no blessing,” she mumbled.
I studied her from the corners of my eyes. “You okay?”
“All things considered…” She shrugged. “Are you?”
“Too early to tell.”
She nodded. We’d barely had time to process one thing before something else slammed into us. It all had sort of left our heads spinning.
“Who was that woman?”
“I don’t know,” Roo replied.
The compass continued to guide us, the arrows swiveling when we were supposed to turn off another road, and then another. We drove for hours, exiting the state of Missouri and passing through Illinois, then into Indiana. We had to stop for gas and food, and Roo and I traded positions in the driver’s seat. Roo drove us through Ohio and into Pennsylvania.
And, still, the compass pointed us onward.
“We’ve never been this far from home before,” Roo commented as we passed over the Ohio/Pennsylvania border.
“Maybe we’ll get to see the ocean for the first time.”
Roo almost smiled at that. I scooted a little closer to her in the truck’s single front seat, resting my head on her shoulder as she guided us down the highway.
“Just so you know,” I said, “home for me is wherever you are.”
Now she did smile, but there was sadness behind it. “Right back at ya, big sis.”
We drove further still, passing into New Jersey. I was just beginning to think that the stupid compass was leading us nowhere when we pulled off onto a back road that led into a forest of towering pines.
I was once again in the driver seat, and I hesitated as I pulled the truck onto a dirt road leading deeper into the trees. We’d left the main highway and civilization behind maybe half an hour ago, passing fields of blueberries and the occasional farmhouse, but the dirt road would surely only take us further away from signs of human life.
“I feel like this is how so many horror movies start,” I told Roo as I gripped the wheel. “Are we sure we want to do this? I mean, we’re following arrows on a compass that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Of course we’re not sure,” Roo replied. “But can you really ever be sure of anything?”
Roo scooted closer to me as I drove us forward. The trees stretched on endlessly. Night was beginning to fall.
“Maybe we should have waited until morning,” I said.
Roo leaned forward, peering through the windshield. “Well, we’ve come this far… And it looks like we’re here, anyway.”
I applied the brakes as we came to a large stone wall and a tall iron gate. “Wherever ‘here’ is,” I mumbled.
It didn’t help that at that moment a flash of lightning lit up the sky, casting into view the top of the massive structure peeking out from behind the wall for the briefest of moments. There were two torches mounted to either side of the gate, but other than that, the forest made the night dark as pitch.
“Maybe we should go back,” I said.
Roo gripped my hand. “Rey,” she said, in a manner that forced me to look over at her. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen next, what we’re walking into, but I’m gonna need you to hold it together, to be brave.”
“Are you saying I’m not normally brave?”
Roo just looked at me.
I snorted, pursing my lips. “Alright. I’ll do the best I can.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“So... Is there, like, a doorbell or something we should ring?”
Roo nodded toward the gates. “Looks like they already know we’re here.”
I swallowed, making myself sit up straight in my seat when a tall, muscular male approached the driver’s side window and rapped on it with his knuckles.
“I think he wants you to roll it down, Rey,” Roo said.
“Oh, right.” I fumbled with the lever, cranking it so that the window would lower. That’s when I got a look at his face for the first time.
If I’d thought Samuel Prescott was handsome, I clearly had a very narrow understanding of the world of beautiful men. Whoever this male was made Sam look like the off-brand version, like the generic reproduction. With thick, dark hair that was cut short on the sides and much longer on top with braids that fell down his back, and striking blue eyes that contrasted with his light brown skin, it was an effort not to stare.
On top of that, whereas Sam Prescott still had the body of an almost-man, this male was built like a Roman god, with arms the size of my legs, and an actual bow and arrow strapped around his shoulders.
“Well hello there,” I said, because I’m smooth as butter.
The male stared at me, his eyes flicking over to Roo and back again. I lifted my chin and forced myself to hold his gaze, which was as intense as one might expect from some admittedly hot weirdo living in a secret castle in the woods.
“Nice bow,” I added, when it became clear that he was not going to say anything.
Roo giggled under her breath beside me.
“Who are you?” he asked, voice a deep rumble.
“My name is Rey. This is Roo.” I fished for the compass thing and held it up. “This led us here.”
The man held out his hand. I passed the compass to him.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, beautiful eyes narrowing.
“Our aunt gave it to us. Her name was Meera.”
“Meera? Meera Aldainaire ?”
“You knew her?”
“What do you mean her name ‘was’?” he countered.
“She…moved on,” Roo answered.
He leaned into the window to get a better look at her, making me lean back with his proximity. The scent of him hit me—salt water and pine. I found I was holding my breath, and forced myself to relax.
“You’re her nieces?”
“That’s generally the relationship when someone’s an aunt,” Roo replied.
I shot her a quick look. This dude did not look like someone who we should poke at. If Roo noticed, she ignored me.
The man was silent again as he studied us.
“So…you gonna let us in?” I asked.
He took a step back from the truck. “If you are who you say you are, the gates will open for you.”
“Oh…Okay, thanks,” I said, and manually rolled up the window while he continued staring at us.
“He’s hot,” Roo commented.
“Sure,” I said, “if you like the whole I’ll-kill-you-with-my-death-stare thing.”
My grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“You’re stalling,” Roo said.
“I’m nervous. I don’t know why, but I am.”
Roo nodded. “Me too… This feels… big somehow.”
“I mean, what does it mean if the gates don’t open?”
Roo shifted closer to me on the seat. “I think the better question is, what does it mean if they do?”
I took her hand into my free one, and slowly pushed down on the gas pedal, moving the truck forward.
And just before we could hit them, the black iron gates swung open.
My jaw hung open.
So did Roo’s. It was the only reaction that was appropriate.
I’d never seen anything like the structure looming before us now, never could have even imagined it.
The night sky flashed again and again with lightning, the air palpable with electricity. The clouds hung low, pregnant and poised to deliver any moment. Directly ahead of us, set on a hill of thick green grass, gray stone rose into those clouds, spires and turrets obscured by the bated storm.
The walls of the castle-like building seemed to stretch forever in either direction, and as I struggled to take it all in, I saw that the grounds were sprawling. Though the building before us was the most impressive, several other structures were scattered about, these more modern-looking, with brick facades
and too many windows to count. These buildings were connected to the main one by paved paths that wound around gardens and fountains. Pine trees towered as high as the spires and turrets, casting shadows in the places that the torch-like lamps did not reach.
The lamps were green and ornate. Inside their casings, emerald flames flickered, providing an otherworldly glow to the place. The wall that had blocked all of this from view stood twenty feet high, and as far as I could tell, surrounded the entire grounds. The tall pines of the forest we’d driven through to get here peeked out beyond, like ancient sentries guarding an even older secret.
Our truck made it all of thirty feet down the wide path before men much like the one who had greeted us at the gate surrounded the vehicle. Each of them looked about as amiable as he had as well, and they all carried various weapons.
“No guns, though,” Roo noted, confirming that her thoughts followed the same path as had mine. This was not unusual for us. I often thought that Roo and I shared a brain.
“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto,”’ I said.
“Exit the vehicle,” one of the men said, rapping on the window the same way Mr. Hot n’ Rude back at the gate had done. Was there some kind of How to be a Buttwipe training they’d all attended?
Roo and I didn’t see much choice other than to do what we were told. We both climbed out of the driver’s side and stood together. My hands clenched into fists as I did my best to show no fear. Roo didn’t seem to have to give it much effort.
“Who are you?” asked a man with long blonde hair that was wildly unkept and a thick, wiry beard.
“Who are you?” Roo asked, taking obvious stock of the man. “Vikings?”
Now it was my turn to stifle a giggle. The man who’d addressed us didn’t seem to think it was as funny, but I noticed a couple of the others smirk.
I went through the same song and dance as we had with the one at the gate—showing them the compass, explaining who our aunt was, who we were.
“Meera is dead?” asked one of them. This one was female, though no less imposing than the others.
I nodded.
“How?” the woman asked.
I might not have answered, but there was some note in her voice that made me come forth with the information. I explained about the woman with the white hair.
There were sharp inhalations, loaded glances, and then, silence.
I shifted closer to Roo, though I wasn’t sure what I expected to be able to do if this group attacked. Just the female alone looked like she could chew us up and spit us out.
“By the Goddess,” someone gasped.
Roo and I turned toward the person who’d spoken, and were enveloped in a warm embrace. When the woman pulled back, I thought she looked familiar, but couldn’t place how.
“Reini and Roonie Aldainaire,” she said. “Welcome home. Welcome to the Academy of Witchcraft.”
8
The Academy of Witchcraft.
It seemed the absurdities would never end. How had my life turned into a ridiculous version of Harry Potter fanfic? I half expected Voldemort to jump out from around a corner and yell horcrux!
I kept these thoughts to myself as we were led inside the castle-like building. One of the guards took the truck keys from us and promised to take care of the vehicle. As I watched our only mode of transportation roll away, I felt as though we’d crossed over a bridge that was now burning behind us. If we were going to turn back, the time to do that had passed.
“You must be hungry,” said the woman who’d hugged us as if she’d known us a lifetime. “Come with me to the dining hall, and we’ll see that you’re fed.”
I stared in wonder at the foyer of the building. A chandelier hung in the center, not connected to the ceiling by anything that I could see, but suspended in midair nonetheless. Massive staircases led off in every direction, the ceiling so high that I had to crane my neck back to get a look at the detailed mural spanning the surface of it.
More torches bearing emerald flames were affixed to the walls, casting unearthly light all around. A few people wandered by, these ones much younger than those who’d greeted us thus far, and all were wearing the same green collared shirts and black slacks.
“My name is Talia Talisworth,” the woman said. “I am the headmistress here at the Academy.”
She led us into the dining hall, which was a long, high-ceiling room with walls composed of the same gray stone that made up the outside. The roof was arched and vaulted. More emerald-flamed torches adorned the walls, and along the sides of the room, a buffet of various foods was set up.
My stomach growled just looking at it.
“The dining hall is always stocked with food, so feel free to visit between classes if you get hungry. Regular dining hours are seven a.m. for breakfast, noon for lunch, and six for dinner. Nine p.m. is curfew, however, and students are required to return to their dormitories before that time.”
I checked my watch and saw that it was nearly eight-thirty. The headmistress waved a hand. “I think tonight we can make an exception. You need to eat, and while you do, we’ll have a discussion. I would wager you both are brimming with questions.”
Roo nodded as she grabbed a plate from the stack at the end of the buffet line. “We’ve got a few, yes.”
“Good. Grab whatever food you like and find a seat. I have something to attend to, but I’ll return shortly.”
Roo and I filled our plates as the headmistress breezed out of the hall, her long, green skirt flowing behind her. She had a youthful quality to her movement, despite her gray hair that was tied back in a severe bun, and the cat-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her sharp nose.
We found a seat at one of the long tables and began to dig in, eating like the orphans we now were. As this thought occurred to me, the gravity of all that had happened in the last few days began to set in.
Roo must’ve seen it on my face. “It’s okay,” she said. “Everything is going to be okay... We have each other. We will always have each other.”
I nodded. “You’re taking all of this really well. I—,” I had to swallow before I could continue. “I still can’t believe Pa is gone.”
Roo put her fork down for a moment and took my hand. “He’s not gone, Rey. No one is ever really gone. There are whole worlds beyond this one.”
“Roonie is right,” said the headmistress, appearing behind us as if from thin air.
Sheesh, the woman moved as silently as a cat. She claimed a seat across from us on the other side of the table, adjusting her skirts over her legs as she did so.
“There are indeed worlds beyond the one you know. In fact, you probably feel as though you just stepped into one, and you would not be entirely wrong on that account. But, rest assured, if you were not meant to be here, the iron gates would not have opened for you.”
“What does it mean,” I asked, “that they did open for us?”
“That you’re of magical blood, of course. You’re witches. The wards around the Academy do not permit anyone other than those of magical blood, and also only those who are on the side of the Light.”
“The side of the Light?”
Headmistress Talia’s eyes darkened behind the lenses of her glasses. “Not all magic is good magic. Some of it is dark, and once the Darkness takes hold, there is no escaping it.”
My mind flashed back to the woman with the white hair, and I fought to suppress a shiver. “Are witches born dark?” I asked. “Or is it a choice?”
“Well, there is a question that philosophers have been asking for ages.” The headmistress sighed and folded her hands atop the table. “I suspect it is a little bit of both. Nature and nurture, if you will.”
“The woman with the white hair,” Roo said, echoing my thoughts.”
Again, the headmistress’s expression darkened. “Evelyn Blackshadow, or as she likes to call herself nowadays, Mother Eve.”
“Who is she? Why was she after us?” Roo asked.
; Headmistress Talia’s brow furrowed, sharp eyes flicking between the two of us. “You don’t know anything about who you are, do you?”
“After the last few days,” I said, “I’m not so sure we know anything about anything.”
The headmistress blew out a slow breath. “All right. You eat, then, and I’ll talk. It might be a little overwhelming, and I apologize for that, but if you really don’t know anything about all of this, I don’t really see any way to avoid it.”
“At this point,” I said, “I don’t see how anything else could surprise us.”
“I would disagree, princess,” the headmistress responded. “I would very much disagree.”
Princess.
Of all the things that had happened, this was perhaps the hardest to believe.
I was not a princess, and neither was Roo. We were just two girls from the middle of nowhere, two normal teenagers whose biggest worries were getting pimples on prom night and studying for exams.
We were not princesses in an ancient line of royal witches that supposedly stretched all the way back to the Goddess herself. We didn’t even know who the Goddess was, so how could we be these princesses?
The thing was, according to Headmistress Talia, that was exactly who we were.
“The Academy trains witches from the age of five, all the way to the age of twenty five,” the Headmistress was saying. “Our students learn everything from the histories of the magical realm to advanced mathematics. Your classes will begin tomorrow. I know that’s rather abrupt, all things considered, but you’ve both got quite a bit of catching up to do.”
“So we’re going to stay here?” I asked.
“Do you have somewhere else to go?”
Roo and I glanced at each other as a pang of hurt struck my heart. I shook my head. Orphans. We were orphans. So, no, we did not have somewhere else to go.
Headmistress Talia’s face softened. “You are home now, girls, and you’re not alone. Many of the witches that come to the Academy do so without family, and they find a family here. This is where you belong, where you have always belonged.”
