Shifter’s University

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Shifter’s University Page 6

by K. R. Thompson


  On our way to the mess hall, she had spotted Victor. When he saw us, he’d yelled out something that sounded like “You should have been at the lake.” Lacy had been quiet ever since.

  “My lesson is at the lake,” she whispered.

  I was about to ask her why the prospect of the class worried her so much when Benny, the centaur, slid into the chair opposite us. “Ladies,” he said, greeting us with a smile so slick it reminded me of a used-car salesman.

  “Hi, Benny,” Mia and Anna replied in unison.

  He looked a good deal different out of his centaur form, but muscles still rippled from his arms and it was easy to tell the two girls were quite taken with him. He wore a black t-shirt that sported a horse, tail blowing in the breeze, the word “stud” in bold letters at the bottom.

  Not into himself at all, I thought with a grin.

  “I have to go or I’ll be late,” Lacy said, not so much as acknowledging Benny’s presence as she stood. “I’ll see you later, Claire.”

  I watched her go, then noticed the clock above the door. “I have to go, too. Which way to Mr. Squeaky’s class?” I asked Anna, who pointed upward with her index finger, her eyes still locked on Benny.

  “Up the stairs, second door on the right. You can’t miss it.”

  I found the right classroom easily enough, and slid into the first open seat near the back of the room. Several students filed in soon after me.

  The teacher I had seen in the courtyard the night before arrived. Immediately, he began reciting dates of the first known shapeshifters in history, and every student in the room began slouching in their chairs, eyes glazed over from boredom.

  I relaxed. With the exception of last night, this place was beginning to feel like any normal school. Boring.

  “In light of yesterday evening’s events, I want to talk about the Yokai, who were the very first shapeshifters,” the professor said. Everyone’s attention perked up.

  “And the very first to put our kind into danger,” a girl at the front added.

  Professor Mulford pointedly ignored her and continued, his voice taking on a slightly higher pitch. “The Yokai were known as multi-shifters, able to tap into the magic of other shifters near them and take their form.” He paused, then fixed the girl at the front with an even look. “As such, they were noted in our history of being fierce fighters and protectors of our kind. Yōkai is the Japanese word for ghost or specter, so it is likely their kind originated in Asia.”

  Sweat slicked my palms, and my heart started trying to beat a path out of my chest. That is who I am. That is what I am…Yokai…

  “We could have used their help last night,” a boy in front of me replied. “Too bad the Dark Watch has hunted them into extinction.”

  What? No! I’m proof that they didn’t. I’m here.

  “Even if the Yokai weren’t extinct, it’s doubtful they’d help us. With that kind of power, they could put our entire race in danger,” another said. “They could drain our magic. They could annihilate us.”

  Holding up a single finger, Professor Mulford said, “It is important to remember that the Yokai held human forms, just like any of us. They were shifters. Just as we are earth, air, water, or fire, they were Yokai. And just as we have the choice of following paths of evil or good, so did they. As easily as they could have annihilated our kind, they could have just as easily destroyed humankind. It all comes down to choice…” He gazed at each of us, but when his eyes found me, they lingered for a second longer than they had on anyone else. “It comes down to choice…and to conscience.”

  Somehow I managed to make it through class, but the second it was over, I bolted outside, needing to get away from everyone. Each person I passed, I felt their magic—and felt my own becoming stronger. It was enough to draw out my strongest instinct—the one that had kept me safe in my life before Imperium. It overpowered all of the magic around me as I shifted to my fox.

  Run. Escape. Survive.

  I ran across the yard toward my dorm, but saw more students exiting the building and knew I wouldn’t be any better off hiding in my room than out here.

  A huge statue of a phoenix sat just beyond the houses near the forest. One wing was curled toward the ground, while the other was pointed skyward. I ducked behind the wing nearest the ground and curled up in the grass near the smooth granite of the phoenix’s body.

  Breathing steadily in and out, I willed myself to calm down. In an instant, I felt my magic still and I shifted back, as if simply wishing for peace had made it so, but I still couldn’t stop the tears that came.

  I have never felt so alone. If I am truly a Yokai, am I the only one left?

  Then another thought came, darker than the first.

  If I am, I am truly alone. Now more than ever before. Will I ever find a place I belong?

  “I thought I might be finding ye here.” I knew the voice, but that didn’t stop me from planting my fists, one after the other, into the punching bag. After my afternoon classes, I hit the gym, determined to take out my frustration and anger before going to find Professor McTavish for instructions on my duties that night. I must not have been fast enough for him, because he found me instead.

  “With the way ye be beatin’ that thing, ye’d think it accosted ye in a dark alley, lad,” he joked. When I didn’t say anything, his voice became sober. “Are ye all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mind tellin’ me what’s going on?”

  I stopped beating the bag and leaned my forehead on the warm leather to take a deep breath.

  “Wouldn’t perchance involve the headmistress’s order of ye helpin’ guard the perimeter, would it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah. Then it also involves the new lass who ye had up at the o’erlook last night. Ye needn’t explain anything then. I know enough.” I turned to see him nod, an amused glint in his eyes.

  He had more of an idea of what was bothering me than I did, it seemed. I let it drop and changed the subject. “You were looking for me, and now you’ve found me. Is it time to show me the ropes on what I’m supposed to be watching for on the perimeter?”

  He became serious. “Aye, lad. There be something ye need to see. Follow me, and I’ll show ye the reason the Watch made it inside.”

  I trailed behind him out of the gym, expecting to go outside, so when he turned and started upstairs toward the west wing of the main house, I was surprised.

  “It’s the crystals,” he said, gesturing to the same spelled stone I had brought to the school only a few days earlier. “Something has caused this one and one o’er on the north side o’ the forest to break.”

  “Break is putting it mildly,” I replied, staring at the heap of sharp-looking shards. “Breaking makes me think someone just dropped it. That one looks like it exploded from the inside out. What would make it do that?”

  “Not what. Who. The best the headmistress can tell is that there be something new in Imperium. Something with a magic strong enough to overload the crystals and break them,” McTavish said, picking up a handful of the broken shards. He let them fall between his fingers and into a wastebasket.

  “But the Watch is made up of humans. They don’t have magic,” I said, thinking aloud. “If it wasn’t them, it had to be someone else. It had to be a shifter who is working with the Watch.”

  “Aye, lad. Your task be not only to protect the borders from those outside,” McTavish said gravely, “but to also protect the innocent of the attacks from those who are within. Come wi’ me and we’ll check the perimeter now. Then I’ll show ye the crystal ye’ll be guarding tonight.”

  As we left the main house and started for the forest, one thing he said continued to run through my head. There was something new in Imperium. Something strong enough to break the shields.

  There was only one new person I could think of, but I didn’t believe she was strong enough to do that.

  Claire.

  By the time we finished, it was evening. I had a few hou
rs to myself before I would have to guard my section of forest. Knowing I liked the part of the mountain up by the star, the professor had given me that spot to watch over.

  There was enough time to see how Claire’s first day went, so I headed toward the house. I had just passed the statue of the phoenix when I heard a sniffle that stopped me cold in my tracks. Backing up a few steps, I peeked behind the bird’s granite wing and was surprised to see Claire hidden there, face red and streaked with tears.

  I ducked inside and crouched down beside her. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  Apparently, I didn’t ask my question right, because she only cried harder, hiding her face in her hands. Not knowing what else to do, I patted her hair awkwardly. “Whatever it is, I promise it will be okay.”

  I kept patting for the next few minutes until the sobbing ceased, only to be followed by hiccups. “There, there,” I said, still patting. My calves were on fire from staying crouched down in such a tight spot. “Can you tell me what happened?” Better to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible if I was going to be able to move and get back up the mountain later; otherwise, I might end up being a permanent part of the statue.

  Claire dropped her hands from her face, still sniffling, but making an obvious effort to stop. “I was in history class, and I learned about the Yokai,” she managed to say, though her voice cracked on the last word.

  “You don’t have anything to worry about,” I said, attempting to console her, but it had the complete opposite effect. Immediately, she teared up again.

  “You don’t understand, I do! I have everything to worry about,” she cried.

  Her first words clicked in my head. “Wait a minute, you said you were in history class. That was this morning. Have you been here the whole time?”

  She nodded, a fat tear rolling down her cheek. “I couldn’t be around anyone else.”

  I couldn’t handle watching more tears. Wincing at the pain in my knees, I squished down beside her and wrapped my arms around her middle to bring her close. She felt tiny and fragile as I held her, and that protective urge came over me again. “You can always be around me,” I promised. “Whatever it is, I’ll listen.”

  “You won’t want to be near me when you figure out what I am,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “No one will.”

  “Try me.”

  “I’m a…I’m a…” Her shoulders shook, and her tears soaked through my shirt.

  “You’re a Yokai,” I finished.

  She jerked back from me, her eyes wide. “What? How did you know?”

  I hadn’t known. It had been a guess, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. A few more pieces of the puzzle fit into place. “The shields absorbed some new magic that overloaded a couple of the crystals,” I said with a shrug and a smile. “It makes sense if you are a Yokai. And by the way, even though I know? I still want to be around you. See? This is me. On the inside of a statue, as close as I can get to you, still wanting to be around you.”

  She gave me something that sounded stuck between a laugh and a sob.

  “So, can we get out of the statue now? I promise I won’t let anything happen to you out there. Cross my heart.” I made an X over my chest. “And hope to die.”

  Claire bit her lip as she cast a nervous glance at the opening of the wing. “What if someone else figures out what I am?”

  “We’ll deal with that if it comes. I promise your secret is safe with me, Claire. I won’t tell a soul, I swear.”

  For the first time since I ducked into her little hiding place, she gave me a smile that warmed her eyes. “I know you wouldn’t. I’m not worried about that. I’m worried I won’t be able to control myself around anyone else. What if I pick up on everyone else’s magic at the same time and become the monster they’re all afraid of?”

  “That will never happen,” I said firmly, getting up to take her hand. “Come on. I have an idea. I’ll show you something that helped me when I had problems blending in here.”

  I led her out and then took her to the main house to the library.

  The fairy sitting behind the librarian’s desk watched us as we walked past. I nodded, knowing exactly where I wanted to go, and she replied with by inclining her head when she realized where I was headed. We wouldn’t be needing her help. I knew this particular section of the library as well as she did.

  At the back wall, in a section called “Self Help,” I went straight to the book I knew we needed and plucked it off the shelf.

  “Okay, let’s go,” I said, giving Claire a smile as I led her out one of the back doors that led to small rooms used as private reading places. I shut the door behind us and pulled out a chair for her to sit.

  “This,” I said as I sat down beside her, “is what helped me the most when I first came here.” I pushed the leather volume in front of her, so she would be able to see. Magia was the only word that could be made out. The leather was so old the rest of the title had been worn off from decades of handling. “De Magia Imaginibus…Pictures of Magic.” I flipped through to the first page until she could see the picture, then explained. “I came to Imperium with my twin brother, William. My mom and dad are dragons, too. As it is with most shapeshifters, we get our magic at some point in our teens. And, as turning into a dragon can be an…intense…experience, my brother and I were both enrolled here at sixteen.”

  Claire had been tracing the picture of the fierce dragon with her finger. Now her attention left the page, and her eyes met mine as she waited for the rest of the story. “William has always been more laid back than me. He takes directions and submits to authority better, too,” I admitted. “He was only here for one year before he managed to graduate out. I didn’t take it well. Then my dad ended up getting a job a few hours south of here. They had to move, and I…I had to stay.”

  Understanding filled Claire’s eyes, but she stayed quiet, listening to what I needed to say.

  “I was angry…so angry. About being here, about being what I was. About being alone. About everything,” I explained. “I let my dragon take full charge of me, and he made all of my decisions—for about ten minutes. I torched the south side of the main house, then turned my attention to my own house…to Flame House.”

  Her eyes widened as she realized one of my punishments was to be assigned to a different house.

  “I didn’t hurt anyone,” I hurried to say, not wanting to see her disappointment. “But I could have. The marble on that side of the main house still has scorch marks to this day. Flame House was spelled to repel fire, so I didn’t harm it in the least. After that, the headmistress warned me I would be on a short leash. One wrong move and she would banish me. She nearly did to make an example of me, but my best friend spoke on my behalf and she gave me another chance. That’s why she’s always reminding me now to watch my step.”

  I smiled, remembering the way Paul had stepped in front of me, stubbornly refusing to budge until the headmistress heard him out.

  “Paul, my best friend, he brought me here right after that and told me if I was to learn how to control my animal spirit, then I would first need to learn from those who had had it before me. This book showed me more about what I am—more than any history lesson Imperium could ever teach.”

  “It’s pictures,” Claire said softly as she turned her attention to the book and began thumbing the pages, one to the next.

  “It’s a series of paintings, depicting actual shapeshifters throughout history,” I explained. “This isn’t the fairy-tale stuff that gets thrown around so much. These guys were the real deal.”

  Curiosity piqued, she went back to the first page that held a dragon perched on the mainsail of a ship. The sails were tattered and torn, and the dragon was using his wings in place of the ruined canvas to catch the wind.

  “His name was Arden Barr. He was from Scotland and was sailing to the Americas in 1718 when the ship was caught in a squall. He shifted to his dragon form and used his wings in place of the sails to catch the wind. Because of
what he was, he was able to save the lives of the people on that ship,” I said, telling her the story, even though she was reading it in the paragraphs below the painting.

  After a moment, she flipped to the next page, which depicted a wolf, who, at first glance, appeared to be attacking a girl in the forest. It looked like a classic red riding hood tale, until the way the wolf’s head turned toward a shadow in the trees was noticed by the reader. Once that registered, so did the shaft of the arrow coming toward the girl and the position of the wolf’s body attempting to shield her.

  “Her name was Mary Goddard. The town people thought her a witch and hired a huntsman to kill her. What they didn’t know was that the town’s butcher, Lorne Cain, was in love with her. He was the one with magic. When he heard of their plan, he rushed to save her, leaping in front of her to deflect the arrow that would have killed her. He gave his life to save hers.” Claire’s eyes widened, then she flipped to the next story.

  From one painting to the next, I told each tale from memory. There was a reason the pages were worn and dogeared. Paul may have been the one to save me at first, but this book and its truths had been what kept me on the straight and narrow since then.

  Finally, she turned to the picture I’d wanted her to see—the one that would prove not everyone believed Yokai to be evil.

  “Nikolai Preit,” she read the title softly, fingers tracing over the ghostlike apparition that was floating in front of a burning building, a child tucked under each arm. “Yokai. 1910.”

  At first glance, the unsuspecting eye would discern that this demon-like monster with clawed hands and tattered wings had stolen the children and set fire to cover its escape, but once studied closer, it was obvious how the children in its arms clung to it, and how relieved the faces of those in the crowd below were.

  “Nikolai Preit was an orphan in a children’s home when the boiler exploded, catching the building on fire. He was able to whisk the other children to safety by shifting and flying them out the windows in pairs. He went back, again and again, hoping to save them all. In the end, there was only one fatality. On his last flight in, to make sure they were all out, the roof collapsed, trapping him inside. His body was never found. When a new orphanage was built, they named it in his honor.” A tear rolled down Claire’s cheek and fell to the painting. Another began its trek down, and I chased it away with my thumb.

 

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