A Throwback Witch (Wildes Witch Academy Book 1)

by Holly Ice

‘A school? I’m nineteen, not twelve.’ And where did they get off thinking they could force me into school anyway? Magic couldn’t make me listen in class or complete homework, could it?

  ‘They’ll teach you how to use your powers. And you’ll fit right in. It’s university age, not secondary school.’

  ‘It’s all magic classes?’ Didn’t sound much use in the real world.

  ‘Many ordinary subjects are available, too. In certain careers, those in the know can charge a premium.’

  ‘I guessed that from the private plane.’ And all the wallets they’d have to fill to smuggle me out of the country.

  But I’d been saving for a management and marketing degree at UEA since I left foster care. If this school had useful subjects, was it worth going?

  ‘What does this place cost? And what about my place in Edinburgh? I can’t leave the people I live with to cover my rent.’

  ‘That’s already taken care of.’

  ‘Taken care of? You’re paying my rent?’ I couldn’t believe they’d do that. No one paid that kind of money out of pocket because they wanted me at some school. I wasn’t that special.

  ‘Yes, your room and bills in Edinburgh are fully covered.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘As much as I’d love to take the credit, it’s not me personally. Wildes Witch Academy has a fund to welcome witches who come into their powers outside the community and have to leave their commitments suddenly.’

  ‘No strings attached?’

  ‘None.’

  I didn’t believe it for a minute. ‘So this fund is for, what, surprise witches?’

  ‘We call them throwback witches.’

  ‘Rude.’

  ‘It’s not intended that way. It means you have magic in your blood. You’re a throwback to a witch ancestor.’

  ‘My mother isn’t a witch.’ And she hadn’t been drawn to the supernatural. Her vices were all human.

  ‘She may not have been. Your father might have been a witch. Or sometimes throwbacks have magic much further back in their tree.’

  The dad angle was possible, since dear Dad was a one-night stand Maw didn’t even get the number for. He could’ve been into anything. And I barely knew my maw’s parents, but they’d not said anything about witches or the occult before they died.

  ‘How does this work? If it’s in my family, why has no one else shown any magic or told me to expect it? How haven’t I found magic in myself?’

  ‘Outside our community, we only find witches when their magic is activated, and it takes a traumatic, life-threatening event, usually against a supernatural force, to shock that instinctive magic into action.’

  ‘So that’s why you only found me after I saw that thing in the kirkyard?’

  ‘Yes.’

  My head hurt. This was a lot to take in all at once. And probably too complex to make up. But I needed proof. ‘Can I have my phone back?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I want to see where I’m being sent.’

  ‘Andris is holding your phone for now. He thinks you’ll call the police.’

  So Blondy was Andris. Good to know. ‘You did kidnap me.’

  ‘Kidnapping is a strong word, don’t you think? I think it’s exciting. The school is an amazing opportunity,’ Kaylee said.

  Of course she’d look at this as an adventure. She didn’t ken what happened when you had no money for food or heating.

  ‘I need something more than your word about what I’m getting into here.’

  Justin put up a finger, fished inside his jacket, and brought out his own phone. He unlocked it and showed me photos of a large castle-like building with multiple towers, wings, and massive, picturesque grounds landscaped around a braw lake.

  ‘That’s Wildes Witch Academy?’

  It even had storks nesting in the roof. There was no way this was where they were sending me. I hadn’t seen luxury like that my whole life. Hell, I hadn’t even visited luxury like that. Maw and I had rarely left our bedsit, and the fanciest outing in foster care had been to the local park.

  ‘I could never afford that place.’

  ‘Like I said, the fund will cover you. You’ll get a small allowance, and room and board. You’re a witch now, like all of us, and you’ll be treated the same.’

  Treated the same. I’d heard that one in multiple foster homes, but they never treated everyone the same, not when the authorities weren’t looking. And the contrast between Kaylee’s reactions and mine told me these guys were no different.

  Chapter 4

  We landed in Latvia around two and a half hours after we took off, a much shorter flight than I’d expected. We’d be leaving Kaylee’s extra guard with the plane, but Blondy, or Andris, ordered the rest of us to the door. He took the lead onto the airfield, and the others cushioned me and Kaylee between them, probably so we couldn’t make a run for it. Nose in her phone, she didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered. I still wasn’t allowed mine.

  The weak morning sun barely peeked through the grey clouds, but the wind sliced into my pores, arctic cold, even for early November.

  We hurried inside, where our minders ushered us through a private airport on the outskirts of Riga.

  The staff barely glanced at the stamped papers Andris provided and ignored anything I said. Perhaps they didn’t speak English, or they’d been paid to ignore me. Either way, the smooth organisation behind this journey told me how often they must have made this journey before.

  Our guards tucked us into an empty hire car waiting outside the airport doors, engine running. And there went my chance to escape.

  The five of us were close enough to bump shoulders and well padded in our bad weather coats, but Andris still had to crank up the heating to battle the six-degree weather outside.

  After Andris sped through the industrial area and retail parks surrounding the airport, the landscape was much like it was from the air.

  Trees lined the road for miles. And I mean hundreds of them. Latvia was more forest than farms or fields. And further out the long, straight routes rolled to dirt at the edges with no barriers. But on the plus side, the road surface wasn’t a pothole apocalypse like the ones in the UK.

  Signs in a strange language passed me by. Latvian was far different to Russian. It used the Roman alphabet with accents I hadn’t seen in French or Spanish, though the sign colours and shapes were familiar as a European standard, with the expected miles to kilometres switch.

  The wilderness around the road was like a forgotten land. Pine tree after pine tree, broken by wee farms with oaks and large rocks left in the middle of fields.

  Most buildings were wooden, many abandoned and falling apart. Bar a few modern buildings with large glass fronts, we could’ve gone back in time. No two were ever the same.

  And it was quiet. Maybe a third of the vehicles passing us were logging trucks, loaded with freshly cut trees. After a few hours, the trees and fields grew too repetitive, and I dozed off.

  ‘Will they speak English at this school?’ Kaylee asked.

  The sharpness to her question jolted me from my dream. I rubbed my sore head. Windows didn’t make good pillows.

  Kaylee was frowning at the even more rural landscape, hands clasped in her lap, the picture of a prim and proper middle to upper class woman, while my hair was nest-like from my nap. Kaylee didn’t need to worry about fitting in at this new castle-like school, no matter what language they spoke.

  ‘Yes, you’ll be taught in English,’ Justin said. ‘Only the locals, if you ever pop into town, will speak Latvian.’

  ‘Is it difficult to learn?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, yes. It has cases like Latin, and the grammar is a nightmare.’

  None of the schools I’d attended were posh enough to have taught Latin, so I’d take his word for it. And the language barrier made any escape attempt difficult, but was an escape worth it? I’d not get far before they found me, and they’d offered to pay for my education, and my rent back
home. An amazing offer if it was genuine. And if the price for this ‘gift’ wasn’t too high.

  Should I give them a chance? I’d moved around enough in foster care for a move to another country not to bother me much, but they’d dragged me thousands of miles away from home without a passport, basically as an illegal immigrant, and right now I relied on them almost completely. I needed proof that they weren’t dragging me into a sex trafficking ring.

  ‘How far out are we?’ I asked. ‘And will I have fresh clothes when I arrive? I need to change.’

  And a hairbrush. I was beyond finger combing. My eyes must be zombie-like, too. A day on the road after a night at work did not make for a happy Bianca. I felt sweaty, and manky, and rumpled. Pure travel grumpy.

  Kaylee still looked perfect and mostly content. They’d taken the time to get her bag from her house and explain her new schooling situation to her parents as a scholarship. She probably even got a full night’s sleep last night and a nap on the plane when they collected me.

  It explained why she was so keen, though it did nothing to explain why I got such shoddy treatment.

  ‘We’re near the town the school is in now,’ Justin said, checking his phone. ‘It’s a good one hundred and sixty kilometres out from the capital.’

  ‘Is that intentional?’ I asked.

  ‘We like keeping to ourselves.’

  Yes, I’d imagine a country as small as Latvia kept their kind, my kind, below the radar far more than France or the States could. Much easier to hide unwilling captives in the middle of nowhere, too.

  ‘Is this the only magic school?’ If they’d found two of us in Edinburgh in one night, it couldn’t be that small a community.

  ‘No. We have others. The schools in Afghanistan and Cambodia are the largest.’

  Also obscure, unexpected places for a magic school.

  ‘And so why are we going to this one?’ Kaylee asked. ‘Is it because it’s closest, or is this the one you recruit for?’

  ‘We’re not recruiters.’

  I could’ve told her that much. These four screamed military or security. They had far too much danger to them to be simple school recruiters. Their magic was suffocatingly strong. How Kaylee didn’t sense it, I didnae ken.

  ‘If you’re not recruiters, what are you?’ Kaylee asked.

  ‘We work for the wild magic containment force, or WMCF. Think of it like the supernatural police. We bring in throwback witches like you two and protect the human world from supernatural creatures. Like those barghests you found. After we drop you off, we’ll be working out where they came from.’

  I blew out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Why didn’t they say that from the start? I’d not have gone quietly – what’s the proper identification for supernatural police anyway? But I’d not have been half as worried they might kill me.

  ‘Two kilometres out,’ Andris said.

  We were in a small town called Cesvaine, which Andris pronounced like ‘sess-vay-nah’, but not quite.

  The town had wide, almost empty roads. Many houses were low-lying with drab, peeling paint and faded brickwork. A few taller apartment buildings had the unmistakeable look of the USSR, all concrete and brick with cracked, wonky walls and damp spots. But a few more modern houses were cheerfully painted in yellows or a light peach.

  After we crossed a wee bridge, I even spotted one long building with a Tudor-style wood effect on the upper walls. But all in all, it was a small, country place. No coffee or fast food chains here.

  The trees had thinned, too, more cultivated with greater variety now we were off the road through the forests. Gardens were braw, carefully tended. And I kind of liked the change of pace from Edinburgh. The city had its own beauty in the brick, the history, and the architecture. The very medieval buzz of it, particularly in the old town. But this place had a beauty in how it blended with nature.

  The car slowed. We turned a corner, and I drew in a small breath. It caught in my throat.

  This school, castle, manor, or whatever you want to call it, was stunning. A looped driveway swept from the main road in mirror curves around a large grass-and-flower-filled garden to meet in front of the solid wooden double doors to the academy. Two wings with countless windows took up the left and right sides of the building, and round, peaked towers ended each wing where they met the main building. The roof extended back, suggesting even more around the far side. I couldn’t wait to explore. This school far outdid any of the pictures on Justin’s phone.

  And the rest of the grounds were just as braw, peppered with large trees like the landscaped garden of a posh country house.

  The calm surface of the lake from Justin’s phone was tucked around the right side of the building and marked by a few birds flying from tree to tree.

  I twisted in my seat to see more. Another large, but much more modern, building faced the school on the other side of the road. A sign outside its parking area read ‘WMCF headquarters’ in large block letters, followed by ‘meetings by appointment only’ and a telephone number, which explained why Andris and his colleagues brought us here. They’d probably report in after dropping us off. Which meant I knew where to direct my complaints.

  Andris parked in a WMCF bay.

  I didn’t need any prompting. I was smelling the fresh, sweet-tasting country air and striding towards the entrance while Kaylee presided over the removal of her things from the car.

  Justin followed me with Andris lagging behind, while black hair – Luka – dealt with Kaylee’s demands.

  As we approached the large stone arch over the doors and climbed the short, shallow steps, I took a closer look at the craftsmanship of the building. It had an older architectural style but was probably built later than my first guess, going on the light weathering of ornaments on the doors and roof and the relatively good state of the brickwork and mortar. The attention to detail was exquisite. Including the brass door knockers. One was a small, half mummified skull biting a metal ring. The other was a dragon, the ring looped through its tail.

  I lifted my hand, touched the right-hand ring, and caught Justin grinning out of my peripheral vision.

  The ring yanked my hand into a loud series of knocks. Urgent, piercing bells wailed inside the building.

  I snatched my hand back, but whatever magic was in the knocker had done me no damage. ‘Does it always do that?’ The screeching bells sounded more like an alarm than a doorbell.

  Andris shrugged. ‘Only for witches and supernaturals not currently in its system. You’re new, so you get the special treatment.’

  ‘What special treatment?’ And what did he mean by ‘in the system’? Was I in some kind of magical database now? I should have hung back and let them open the damned door.

  The doors opened a crack. I glimpsed marble floors and wood-panelled walls before a petite blonde woman walked into my view.

  She wasn’t the threatening army I’d expected after the alarm. Her blindingly yellow dress and cream cardigan reminded me of lemon meringue pie, and her stick-thin arms seemed almost incapable of opening the two-inches-thick, double-sized doors.

  ‘The headmaster is on his way,’ she said. ‘I assume this is Bianca Nash and Kaylee Spenser?’

  I frowned. ‘When did you get my surname?’ That hadn’t been in my texts, and my phone locked shortly after Andris sent his message to Finn. Were the door knockers able to get that much from my hand?

  Andris sighed. ‘We’re not technologically challenged. You have social media, like most in your generation. It wasn’t difficult to find you.’

  The yellow dress lady raised an eyebrow. ‘Andris. These girls have enough to adjust to without your attitude. Bianca, it is lovely to meet you. My name’s Mel Sumner. You will see me again tomorrow to collect your schedule and choose your vocational subjects, but please ask if you have questions. I’m here to help.’ She signalled to her left. ‘My office is in the corner of the foyer.’

  I gave her a curt nod and pushed my hands into m
y pockets. I’d judge for myself who was here to help and who wasn’t.

  ‘Ah, good!’ A spatter of footsteps came from my right, and a man in his mid-forties joined us.

  He stuck his hand out, greeting Andris, Justin, and nodding to Luka, who’d just hauled Kaylee’s humungous suitcase in the door.

  Then he looked at me.

  I averted my gaze, but Kaylee swept forward and clasped his hand before he greeted her, the suck-up.

  ‘So good to meet you, sir. Thank you for offering me the opportunity.’

  That didn’t sound stilted and fake at all.

  ‘It’s good to meet you both,’ he said, watching Kaylee more than me with a wee quirk to his lips. ‘I’m Eugene McKee, the headmaster here at Wildes Witch Academy. I was surprised we found two of you in the same place. But then, Scotland has always been a rich home for witches.’ His eyes crinkled with his smile, but something about it didn’t sit right. He was too happy. Weren’t heads normally stern and humourless?

  McKee turned to our guards. ‘Thank you for bringing them in. Do thank the force for arranging their transport on such short notice.’ He turned back to us. ‘For now, let’s get you to your dorm room. I’m sure you’ll want to rest after the long journey. Follow me.’ He took hold of Kaylee’s suitcase, closed his eyes, and let go. Rather than falling, the suitcase floated behind him.

  Well, that beat Luka’s brute force method. So why hadn’t Luka done the same? Were his magical strengths in a different area?

  McKee crossed the foyer, back the way he’d come.

  I nodded to Mel, and the men, and hurried to catch up, looking all around the bag to see how McKee floated it. A yellow glow clung to its edge, so faint I could be imagining it. Unlike Justin, McKee wasn’t strained. Maybe because the bag was lighter than a person. And he walked fast. I felt like I was in the middle of a busy Christmas Eve shift in the bar with how hard I had to hustle to keep up.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ I asked. I should have been dodging students, but the place was echoing with our steps.

  ‘Most students arrive tomorrow. You’ll get your schedules sorted then,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘You two have excellent timing. The next term starts the day after tomorrow.’