Nightworld Academy: Term Two

by LJ Swallow

  "I need to speak to her," I say, and Sofia looks at Theodora in concern at my demanding tone. “Where is she? I need to see what I'll become."

  Theodora sits back. "Please don't be concerned, Maeve. Your aunt didn't have the same support you do, and her condition didn't deteriorate until a few years ago. When she attended the academy, she was a perfectly normal teenager."

  Deteriorate? "Nobody here is a normal teenager."

  She laughs lightly. "Of course, you're correct.”

  “Theodora,” says Sofia. “I think, rather than frighten Maeve, we should allow her to meet her aunt now.”

  I moisten my dry lips. If they needed to speak to me before I met my aunt, what the hell am I facing when I walk into that room?

  Chapter Twelve

  MAEVE

  Beads of perspiration run down my back as I follow Sofia along the hallway. She steps into the room and I hesitate in the doorway. A woman sits in the chair I use for divination tuition, drinking tea from a china cup and saucer, and nibbling on shortbread biscuits.

  "Marie,” Sofia gestures and introduces us as the strangers we are. “This is Maeve. Maeve, this is Marie.”

  How is this person my aunt? The Marie I remember had auburn curls and long skirts. Dad muttered about her being a hippy and implied she took drugs. As I grew older, I presumed my aunt’s drug-fuelled lifestyle is another reason our family kept away.

  This woman has pixie-cut hair, bleached white with pink tips, and is dressed in tight black trousers and a sleeveless tank top, revealing arms covered in colourful tattoos. For a woman in her late forties, she stands out more than any supernatural creature I've met so far.

  "Are you sure?" I blurt. "She looks very different."

  My aunt stands and holds her arms out in greeting as she steps towards me. Omigod, I don't want a hug. I hastily sit on the spare chair and smile. "Sorry if I sounded rude."

  "No, no. I'm not what people expect a witch to look like." My aunt is softly spoken with an Irish burr to her voice.

  "Witches come in all flavours, Marie," says Sofia. "You know that."

  "Oh yes, some tastier than others, I find. Don’t you agree, Maeve?”

  I blink at her inappropriate comment.

  “I’m so happy Sofia caught me. I’ve just returned from a trip to Germany. Such a beautiful part of the world. I met a lovely gentleman there. Shifter. What a shame I had to come home again. I could've stayed for weeks!"

  "I thought you were in France?" asks Sofia. "We emailed you a few weeks ago."

  "Oh?" Marie wrinkles her nose. "Maybe Germany is next month. Ah, well, something to look forward to. I do like a shifter. Who doesn't like a man with primal urges?"

  Oh. My. God. I look in horror at Sofia, who gives a watery smile.

  "I met your dragon last term. He's a sweet boy, isn't he?" she continues, then takes a drink from her cup. “Darling, Sofia. Is this a new tea?”

  “Do you mean Ash?"

  “He’s a beautiful colour, although rather frightening when he's angry. If I were his lover, I'd worry he'd accidentally tear me apart.” She sets the cup down. “Don’t worry, I could tell he just loves you to bits!"

  Marie's face is the picture of joy.

  My insides are the picture of horror.

  She can't possibly have met Ash in dragon form—if she has, she’s talking about the future.

  "Anyway," interjects Sofia. "Enough about your love for shifters. Maeve has waited to talk to you for weeks."

  "Years, actually," I say.

  "Oh yes, same, same, but my sister was rather distant to me. We only saw each other at family occasions, as I’m ten years older and have a different father."

  "I never knew." But did I know anything about her?

  "Our mother decided to marry a human after my father died. I kept my dad's name—Willowbrook—but she changed hers."

  "Is mum a witch too?" I whisper.

  Marie laughs as if I asked her whether dogs talk. "Not at all. Disappointing, really. I suspected you were, the time we met when you were a child. But your mother wouldn’t let me near you. The whole family were happy to pretend I don’t exist.”

  Sofia stands and busies herself finding more biscuits. I have a million questions I've rehearsed, but half left as soon as my aunt started talking.

  I’m glad Sofia and Theodora warned me, but I’m not prepared for how weird she is.

  "Why didn't you tell me?" I whisper. "Didn't you know about the trips to the doctors? The confusion?”

  “Maeve. I asked your mother many times if you had any strange traits, but she never told me. I wish she had, as I could’ve intervened sooner. I think she was ashamed.”

  “Of me?” Her words tear at my heart.

  “No, that she couldn’t help you. Fix you. She blamed herself for not dealing with the situation. I only discovered the truth at our mother’s funeral. From then on, I watched you for a chance to help. I knew you’d come to the academy eventually, but I had to find the right time to offer my help.”

  “I wish you’d been here when I arrived,” I say, annoyed my voice cracks. “I wish you’d spoken to me before.”

  Marie’s effervescence drops for a few moments as she stares at her hands in her lap. My skin prickles when she doesn’t explain why.

  Sofia places a fresh plate of biscuits on the table. Why won’t she leave us alone to talk? “Maeve has experienced disturbing visions recently.”

  I’m annoyed when Marie laughs. “That’s the life of a future-sighted witch. Did you see the academy burning down?”

  I choke on the biscuit in my mouth. “No.” “

  “Is the academy going to burn down?” asks Sofia in alarm. “When?”

  She scratches her nose. “Maybe that’s a different academy. Actually, yes. The South American one, I think. Perhaps we should warn them, Sofia?”

  The fact Sofia’s face is filled with the same shock as mine isn’t helping this situation at all. “Yes. That would be wise.”

  “Well, isn’t that good news, Maeve? The academy is safe!” enthuses Marie.

  “I—"

  “Oh! I know. Did you see somebody die?” She takes a fresh biscuit. “Those truly are the most irritating. I mean, how do you tell people such shocking news? I hope this person isn’t anybody important to you.”

  “Irritating?” I whisper. “Sickening, you mean. I’ve stopped one death, and I will stop others.”

  My aunt’s face pulls into dismay. “Darling girl, stop all the deaths you want, but the more you interfere, the more bonded to the spirits you become. Believe me, that’s a problem.”

  I look to Sofia and she nods. “The energy in this world is delicately balanced and if you upset that energy, you become locked into that imbalance.”

  “I live by myself now, Maeve,” says Marie. “People don’t cope with my topsy-turvy view of time. To be honest, life is easier on my own.”

  But I don’t want to be alone. I’ve only just found the people I belong with.

  “Are you telling me if I interfere with the future I see, I’ll lose touch with reality?” I ask in a hoarse voice.

  She nods and takes a bite of her biscuit. “These are rather lovely, Sofia.”

  “But I can’t let people die. My friends. Family,” I press.

  “Ah, so you’ve seen someone special die. Well, you could save him or her, but each person you save will push you closer to where I am.” She wipes a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “Maybe wait to save somebody special. You’re young. Life moves on. People leave and aren’t important anymore.”

  “Are you serious?” I choke out. “Are you suggesting I let Jamie die?”

  She frowns and taps her lips thoughtfully. “Jamie... Jamie. No. I don’t know him. Is he special?”

  “He’s a close friend,” I retort.

  Marie leans forward. “Maeve. Believe me, you do not want to live my half-life. I once saved everybody I saw die in my visions—a lot of people. Now I can’t function properly. So
metimes, like now, I can be lucid and then—” She clicks her fingers. “I’m away with the fairies again, drifting around the world.”

  “Then what is the point?” I protest. “Why be future-sighted if all it leads to is unhappiness?”

  “Who said witch powers made you happy, Maeve? Your powers are a gift to those around you, but to you, your abilities are still a curse.”

  Each word she says pushes up my desire to run from the room. I’ve waited to hear from somebody who knows what I am, who understands what I got through. Who can reassure me. Instead, I’m faced with an explanation I can’t handle.

  “Can I be excused?” I ask Sofia, standing. “I’m not feeling well.”

  Marie stands too and reaches out to me, clasping my hand before I can withdraw. The tears prick at my eyes as the answers I wanted are too much for me to cope with all at once. She leans in to me and her strong floral scent joins her soft cheek against mine.

  “Stop Jamie. He’s the one trying to change the future, and the fates won’t be as kind to him.”

  She moves away and touches my cheek. “I’ll see you again, before the summer. I remember last time, when you brought...” She pauses. “Oh, no. Silly me. We only just met again. Well, I look forward to meeting you both. The strangest thing, I met him once before, but I can’t remember when. Quite an unusual pair, aren’t you?”

  “Please don’t tell me his name,” I blurt. “I can’t handle this.”

  “Of course, sorry.” She waves a hand. “Congratulations on becoming Winter Queen. I hope you win again this year.”

  Her changes in direction, jumps between the present and future, confuse me and judging my Sofia’s expression, they do her too.

  “I wasn’t here last year, Aunt Marie.”

  She frowns. “Weren’t you? Oh. That explains why you’re confused.”

  I look to Sofia, pleadingly. “Can I go?”

  Sofia nods and her eyes are filled with concern. “Please come and see me later, so we can talk. I’d love to talk to you about our ancestors.”

  “I will. I just need some air. It was lovely to meet you, Aunt Marie. I’ll be back to say goodbye before you leave.”

  Head filled with fear and confusion; I rush from the room before I break down.

  Chapter Thirteen

  MAEVE

  I will not hyperventilate until I collapse.

  I will not make an idiot of myself.

  The clock in the centre of the academy’s entrance hall ticks around to 6:00 p.m.—lessons have already begun. I can’t face walking into a class with red eyes to field questions from my friends, but what choice do I have? If I don’t go to class, they’ll fuss more.

  Since I arrived at the academy, I’ve overreacted to a lot and I need to start coping better, but moments like this pull me backwards. I climb the stairs and walk along the hallway towards the Maths classroom, reaching in my bag for my laptop as I do.

  I focus my mind away from the meeting with my aunt, but an annoying tear slips down a cheek.

  “Maeve?”

  Shit.

  Tobias appears in my line of sight and tips his head as he studies me. His usual impassive expression is transformed by the worried crease to his brow. I take a deep breath. “Hello, Tobias.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  His blunt words squeeze more tears from my eyes, and I sniff. “I’m fine. I need to go to class.”

  “Come with me.” I don’t move as he gestures in the opposite direction to where I’m walking. “Please.”

  Nobody else is around, everybody in lessons. “I should be in class. I have Maths.”

  “But you are not. If you are free, perhaps we can discuss your recent mental magic performance.”

  My shoulders slump. “Tobias. I’m not in the mood for lectures and judgement from you.”

  “And nor am I, from you, Miss Foster.” He bends slightly and looks down. “You are distressed, and I’d like to help.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll cope.”

  “Maeve, you can speak to me.” His tone becomes gentler. “Or I can find Sofia to help.”

  “I just saw her. And my aunt,” I blurt.

  “Right.” He smiles in understanding. “That meeting must’ve been difficult.”

  The stupid lump rises in my throat again. “Yes.”

  “Come to my office until you feel ready to cope with your next lesson. Compose yourself.”

  He gestures again, and I walk beside his tall figure on the short trip to his classroom. Tobias unlocks the door and we step inside. The room is eerier with no students in and my upset is replaced by discomfort.

  But he wants to help.

  After leading me to his small office, Tobias tells me to sit and I watch in disbelief as he makes me a drink. My stomach is sick after my meeting, but I can’t decline. Placing a mug down, he sits close by and leans forward, hands on his thighs.

  “I worry about you, Maeve.”

  His open face and gentler words make him seem younger again, as if he could be a man just a few years older than his pupils.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Stop lying to me. I know about your aunt’s condition, and I have seen this with future-sighted witches before. Of course, you’re frightened.”

  I swallow. “I’ll cope. I’m learning to accept my world. This is a setback.”

  “I’m happy to see you’re no longer fighting us, but this meeting with your aunt will hit you hard.”

  I rub my head. “I need to throw myself into my studies. I have to practice everything. Learn. I need control.”

  “And you will,” he says softly.

  “But that’s the problem, Tobias. I’m not sure my skills would work.” My eyes fill with tears again and his eyes widen.

  “Maeve. Please don’t cry. I hate people crying.”

  “Sorry for making you uncomfortable,” I mutter.

  “I don’t cope with others’ emotions very well.” He sinks back in his chair and his beautiful mouth purses as he looks at the ceiling. “In fact, I don’t cope with mine either. Life can be difficult for everybody, Maeve. Remember you’re not the only one who struggles.”

  His candidness shocks me away from my tears. “But you knew I was upset and asked me to come here.”

  “I have a certain place in my life for those who struggle the most.” He looks back at me. “Andrei usually takes that place, but he’s sharing with you now.”

  “I’ve noticed. I’d ask why, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “He’s a good person with a difficult life. A little like you.”

  I want to protest that there’s no comparison between us, but I’m aware how rude I’d sound. And how wrong, because me and Andrei are similar; I sense how lost he is too. I sip from my mug, wishing the contents were cooler so I could leave quicker.

  “Andrei told me you spoke to the Confederacy about the hunters.”

  He pulls himself straighter. “Did he?”

  “Yes.” I wait for him to elaborate. Nothing. “Thank you for helping us.”

  “The matter is closed,” he says stiffly.

  Tobias cleared away my tears with his calming tones and absorbed my upset, but this act has triggered the desire for his attention. Desire I can’t allow to grow.

  Standing, I place the drink on the table. “I should leave. Thanks for using your powers on me; you’ve helped me feel better.”

  “I’m confused. I haven’t used any power on you, Maeve.” He stands too and his office shrinks further in size. “I merely spoke to you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Perhaps you’re more relaxed around me when I’m kinder?” he suggests. “Talking to people can help with problems.”

  We share a smile and the space between us constricts further.

  “You fascinate me,” he says out of the blue. “I haven’t met somebody like you before.”

  In my past, this would’ve come across as a cheesy pickup line, but the earnestness in his face strikes me. A k
ind and open Tobias freaks me out as much as the stern one—I don’t need another reason to like him.

  “Same. I mean, you. Uh. Everybody, really.”

  He digs his hands into his back pockets and more of his aloofness slips. “I think we have a lot to learn about each other. Neither of us are what we seem, Maeve. Few people in this academy are, remember that.”

  I look in confusion.

  His gaze intensifies. “You are an old soul, Maeve. I feel that strongly. Perhaps too strongly.”

  I lick my dry lips. This evening has been a nightmare and now I’m confronted by Tobias’s strange behaviour.

  “What does that mean?”

  He turns the other way and picks up a book. “Now you’re calmer, I suggest you go to class.” Whoa. And he’s back to normal. “I’m sorry your meeting with your aunt didn’t go well, but at least you have some answers now.”

  And a hundred more questions.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ASH

  Maeve sits beside me in potions class, head bowed while Amelia speaks quietly to her. Since she met her aunt yesterday, Maeve has withdrawn. Her and Amelia weren’t at breakfast this morning and when I asked Maeve how she was, Amelia shook her head at me to indicate I shouldn’t pry.

  But I care—more than I want to. Some see Maeve as stubborn for not accepting her life at the academy straightaway, but I sense fear. All the time. As a shifter, I detect subtle chemical changes in people’s bodies: the adrenaline or arousal. Some of us use that for empathy, others use the ability to their advantage, and to calculate whether someone is strong or weak. To attack.

  Maeve accepts more about her life since Halloween, which is a relief, but she has much more to learn—and not just the potion we’re making today.

  Jamie leans in to Maeve too, and jealousy bites as I see her respond, her pale face transformed by a small smile. Of course, she’ll speak to him and Amelia about her aunt. They’re witches. They understand.