Wayward Witch

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Wayward Witch Page 4

by Samantha Bell


  "Sure," I said with a fake smile. I smoothed down my pleated skirt and left, letting the door click shut behind me. I was the last one out and the halls were empty. Well, almost empty. Knox was standing by the door waiting for something. Someone? Me? I ignored him, taking brisk steps towards the stairs.

  "Hey little blue, wait."

  I sighed and turned on my heel. "Would you cut it out with the whole "little blue" thing?" I snapped.

  Knox held up his hands. "Whoa, chill. Evelyn? Evie." He amended. "I didn't expect to see you in group therapy."

  "Why not?" I frowned.

  "Because normally they put the fiery ones in therapy one on one. More intense counseling for those of us who are, well, more intense."

  That explained where Blake was. "What makes you think I'm fiery?"

  Knox raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?" He scoffed. "You punched Blake Hood. The most feared guy in Woodlock's!" He smirked. "Honestly, it was a little impressive."

  I relaxed a fraction. Maybe this guy wasn't as much of a jerk as the other two members of their triad. "Thanks," I said. "Anyways, I should get to lunch before all the food is gone. Again." I turned and only looked back once before descending the stairs to the main floor.

  ~

  The second class of the day was positive magic, and it was a very different atmosphere compared to the group therapy. I began to wonder if Ms. Lowe had cast a calming spell over the students or something, because this group was rowdy as hell and a few faces were the same. Ten students sat in benches facing the front row where an old guy was writing something on the chalkboard.

  The classroom was tiny, cramped, and dusty. Everything looked about as old as the ancient warlock who stood leaning against the podium after drawing a complex magic circle freehand. The lines were crooked, not nearly precise enough to summon any magic in real life.

  I sat near the back to avoid drawing attention to myself. Maybe the old guy's eyes were bad enough that even my blue hair would go unnoticed.

  I was beginning to wonder if he was deaf, because he began speaking over the class and didn't even bother telling them to shut up. People whispered and giggled as he droned on and on in his gravelly voice.

  "Positive magic is something that goes back much longer than people realize. It rose to popularity during the Renaissance." He said.

  I could barely hear him. At least he hadn't made me introduce myself to the class. I sank down in the wooden bench and rested my feet on the empty spot in front of me.

  "Today we are going to look at some experiments around the turn of the century." This old warlock looked like he had given up on us delinquents as well as himself. He was the antithesis of Ms. Lowe.

  A flash of red caught my eye, and I looked up to see Zane sneaking in through the back door. He slipped onto the bench beside me and shot me a look. Typical. He would be the sort of guy who was late.

  I set my shoulders and looked ahead, refusing to acknowledge him.

  Zane snickered. "Why would they get this dry old dog to teach something like positive magic?" He shook his head. "I mean, it's all a farce anyways, but you'd think they'd hire someone with a bit more... pep?"

  I glanced at him. "Maybe he's just tired of everyone speaking over him the entire time."

  "Or he just knows we're all lost causes." Zane leaned back and closed his eyes. Positive magic seemed to be as good of a class as any to take a nap.

  I shook my head and refocused on the lecture. Every moment I struggled to pay attention. I didn't need to believe any of this woo-hoo positive vibes crap, but I did need to learn it in order to get my freedom as fast as possible. I would pretend to be the best damn little witch Woodlock's had ever seen. I'd do almost anything to be free again.

  SIX

  ------------------------

  EVIE

  My last class of the day was law and ethics. If it were possible to be more boring than the dusty old warlock from positive magic, I would soon find out. The law class was mandatory for all students. I counted the heads as I walked in. My original guess was off, there was about twenty-five of us in total. Which explained why the dinner table was always a mess. I was one of the last to enter and ended up sitting right in front of the teacher.

  It was no surprise that this teacher seemed much more polished and business-like. I found out through the chatter that he was also new and hadn't had his spirit broken - yet. That was the keyword.

  He stood tall and proud in a black suit. His hair was tied back in a simple ponytail; his hair was going gray at the temples and he had a goatee twisted into a swirl. I knew just by looking at him that he was a magical lawyer. What the hell he was doing in this place was beyond me. Someone must have got a bunch of bad karma points or something. He smiled at me, his bright white teeth gleamed in contrast to his bronzed skin and I looked away.

  The last people to walk into class were the exact three I would have expected. Blake, Knox, and Zane strolled in two minutes late and took three empty seats at the back.

  The seating was tiered like a traditional classroom and big enough to hold thirty people. It was the only place in Woodlock's that I had seen so far that actually looked like it had been built to be a classroom instead of haphazardly retrofitted to the manor.

  I resisted the urge to stare at the trio as they found their self-designated seats and secretly wished I would have picked one of those seats in order to ruin their day. That might not have been good for my health, though.

  I opened the book on the desk in front of me. It was a thick tome of magical laws. It had been scribbled in and highlighted in several colors; it was well worn from the countless times it had been flipped through by some student. A dick was drawn on the first page. Great. Very mature. I rolled my eyes and looked back up to the teacher.

  "Good afternoon class. I trust that you've all done the readings from last week?" He said before catching my eye again. "I see that we have a new student today, but I'll save her the embarrassment of introducing herself to you all." He smirked. "Welcome. I'm Dr. Whittaker and I am a magical lawyer. I'm here to reintroduce the laws and ethics that may have," He paused, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Slipped your minds when you did whatever landed you here."

  A smattering of half-hearted chuckles filled the room.

  Dr. Whittaker turned to the chalkboard and started writing page numbers in neat lines. The classroom went silent as he lectured.

  I dog-eared the pages that he mentioned because I had forgotten to bring a notebook. Normally, bending pages was more of a crime to me than most things that the teacher had mentioned, but this old text was a lost cause.

  After about half an hour of lecturing, Dr. Whittaker turned from the board but the chalk continued writing as he spoke. He shook out his hand and took a drink of water. How nice must it be to have your writing tools write your dictation? I'd have to learn that spell for sure.

  I absentmindedly touched my wand in its usual place up my sleeve. The feeling of the wood against my skin was reassuring.

  A few minutes later, I felt a chill run down my body. I glanced up, wondering if I was unluckily sitting under an air vent, but there were none. I could feel coldness surrounding me; I glanced around but no one else seemed uncomfortable. I tucked my hands into my sleeves and pulled my cardigan around my body tightly. It was a weird old house, and drafts like this were probably commonplace, especially in November.

  It was a deep chill that settled into my bones and was almost too much to bear. I forced myself to endure, counting down the minutes until the lecture was over. By the time we were dismissed, my hands were white as snow and my joints screamed in pain as I stood up. Everyone around me seemed fine; How could they not have noticed the cold?

  Someone brushed past me. Blake. I felt the jolt of energy between us and glared up at him.

  Blake smirked. "Feeling a little chilly?" He laughed. He grinned at Knox who fist-bumped him as they sauntered out of the classroom.

  My hands fell to my sides as the warmth
flowed back through my body. It wasn't shitty ventilation; it was a spell. Anger bubbled up inside me. So, Knox had ice mage powers. Good to know. Now all I had to do was figure out what the other two jerks could do before they decided to experiment on me again.

  ~

  That evening, I finally got to explore the library.

  It was dimly lit and quiet, even for a library. Gas lamps flickered along the walls and on the tables, casting warm shadows against the countless rows of bookcases. It smelled like wood polish and dust. There was a locked room near the back of the library with a bronze plaque that read "PRIVATE COLLECTION". The doorknob was scratched as if the lock had been (unsuccessfully) picked many times.

  I picked a round table with a plush red chair and set my notebook down before exploring the rows of books. Some were fairly mundane: history, politics, geography, but I was here for the good stuff. I found the section on elemental magic and grabbed a few before returning to the table.

  I cracked one open and blew away the cloud of dust that rose into the air. This book hadn't been used in a while and it looked the others hadn't either. I wasn't surprised, the internet was a fantastic source of magical information after all, but I didn't want anyone looking up my search history or reading over my shoulder, so I'd have to do it the old-fashioned way.

  I flipped through the index until I found what I needed. ELEMENTAL MAGE MAGIC. "Perfect," I whispered to myself and flipped back to the page. I didn't know much about mages besides the fact that they were as rare as they were powerful. Their magic didn't come from within, it came from outside their bodies and could be controlled without magical tools.

  I spent hours pouring through the information on elemental mages, trying to find a spell or sigil that would protect me from ice. If Knox tried to freeze me again, I couldn't let him have the satisfaction of it.

  I hated being cold, which was extra bad considering I grew up in hopping from state to state in the north-east, but still. I swore I would never endure a horrible east coast winter again and the thought of having to endure ice torture was enough to make me consider hexing his ass and dealing with the wrath of the Headmistress.

  When I found a list of elemental mage powers, I wrote them down in my notebook. Ice was a rare talent, more common elemental powers included fire, wind, water and earth. Ice, like lightning and stone, were less common. Unfortunately, powers like ice, fire, and wind could be conjured anywhere using the surrounding particles, giving them limitless ammo and no wand required.

  Each book had so much information about the powers, but nothing about how to defend from them. I drummed my fingernails along the shelves as I resumed my search. My eyes were beginning to blur in the dim lighting and I gave up looking on my own.

  I pulled my wand out of my sleeve, looked around to make sure I was alone, and then traced a magic symbol in the air. The finding sigil. "Defense against elemental magic." I whispered. The tiny sigil glowed and shot off down the rows of books, stopping at a thick leather-bound tome. It hovered, lighting my way until I grabbed the book's spine and the sigil vanished. "Perfect," I whispered to myself, wondering why I waited so long to let magic find the book for me.

  I returned to my table and cracked open the thick book. There had to be at least one thousand pages, so I drew my trusty finding sigil again and let the pages fan out until they stopped at the right one.

  PROTECTION AGAINST ICE CURSES. "Ice curses are powerful magic. An Ice mage can use them for sudden damage or long-term torture." I read out loud as I copied a warming defense sigil in my notebook. "A warming sigil is often enough to counteract less invasive ice curses."

  I closed the heavy book and stretched. Ok, so I had one down. Now the only thing I had to do was figure out what talents the other two jerks in the Sons of Hell trio possessed, and then they'd regret showing me their powers.

  ~

  The next day in group therapy, Knox acted as if nothing happened. He was so nonchalant that for a moment I questioned if he was the one who had froze my ass in class. Of course he was, I thought. He just wasn't so tough without Blake and Zane around.

  We sat in the circle of chairs and Ms. Lowe took her usual cushioned spot. "Good morning," She said cheerily.

  I was so not in the mood for this. I lost track of how long I had researched in the library and didn't sleep until well after midnight. It was all I could do to drag myself out of bed. My only saving grace was that we didn't have law class today and I could go nap. Skipping class was out of the question, after all this was a reform school, and our attendance was documented meticulously. They liked to use the word student, but it was beginning to feel like the word prisoner would describe my current situation more accurately.

  I glared at Knox across the circle, but he didn't look up.

  "Alright, so let's review yesterday's reflection question," Ms. Lowe said. "Would you like to start, Miss Knight?"

  I suppressed a cringe and opened my notebook. The reflection question was shining on the second page; I had scribbled an answer out during breakfast, having completely forgotten about my homework until the morning. "Sure," I replied and adjusted my posture to buy me a few more precious seconds to get my thoughts in order.

  The question: IF YOU COULD UNDO ONE MISTAKE, WHAT WOULD IT BE AND WHY?

  Talk about heavy. My hands trembled, and I tightened my grip on the black notebook. "This reflection question was interesting," I said. "When I think back on my life, I don't necessarily see any mistakes." It was the truth. I thought back throughout growing up, seeing the sketchy things my parents were up to, being denied and denying care or attention, being the "lone-wolf" sort of girl. I didn't regret any of the events that someone else might label as a mistake. "I guess, the only mistake that I would undo was getting caught," I said with a smirk.

  Knox's eyes met mine with a knowing look and a slight nod.

  Ms. Lowe huffed. That was not the response she was expecting. "Does anyone else have a different answer?" She asked. "Maybe someone able to feel regret?"

  I closed my notebook and hid my grin behind my long hair. Gods, it felt good to annoy a teacher again. I bit my lip so she wouldn't hear me giggle. That's what she got for calling me out first.

  Someone else, a witch with curly hair and a heart-shaped face, spoke up and let out a figurative laundry list of everything she wished she could undo.

  I shifted in my seat and rolled my eyes. Knox winked at me across the circle. I ignored him, waiting for a chill or freezing hex to be shot my way. Nothing happened. So he was weak without his friends, good to know.

  I wasn't called on for the rest of the therapy session and that suited me just fine. Tomorrow was the weekend, and we'd be free from homework until Monday, which made the deal extra sweet. Plus, I wouldn't be in law and ethics class with the jerk trio until Tuesday. If I was the kind of girl who cried with happiness, I would bawl with joy.

  I was the first to leave therapy group, eager to retreat to the library for another research session. My excitement was dashed out as I saw Blake and Zane heading towards me and Knox closing in from behind. I stopped in the middle of the hall, staring up at Blake defiantly.

  "Excuse me, little witch," Blake said with mock politeness and shouldered past me. His strength knocked me sideways into the wall.

  I stumbled, but kept my composure. "Just keep walking." I whispered to myself. A few steps later, a gust of wind ripped though the hall and blew my skirt up. My hair tangled around my face and I dropped my notebook as I smoothed my skirt back down desperately.

  A few other people shrieked around me, but I didn't care about them. I cared about making sure I didn't flash my pink panties to the entire world. I clutched the hem of my skirt and whirled around, shooting eye daggers at the trio.

  Zane grinned and winked at me. "I think there might be a draft in here, little blue."

  I bit my lip to stop a hex from escaping my mouth.

  People pushed around me, on their usual stampede to the lunch hall. Everyone except the tri
o, they were going in the opposite direction. I wondered where they were going and if they'd kill me if I followed them. Despite my urges, I refused to follow them. I turned on my heel and decided to live another day.

  Just as I was reaching the stairs, the old man Mr. Hobbs, came running up to me. "Ah, Miss Knight. I was sent to find you."

  "What for?" I snapped and then softened my voice. "Sorry, it's just be a stressful day." I covered my anger with false sweetness.

  "Of course. The headmistress wants to speak with you."

  Ah, fuck. I thought to myself as I rode the birdcage elevator to the top floor. She knew something was up. Was she tracking my activity in the library? Did she change her mind about my fight with Blake? She'd take his side, if only for the money.

  I knocked on the Headmistress' office door and she called me in. The lighting was dim and the office was as dusty as I remembered. I sat down in the chair across from her desk. "You called for me?" I asked.

  She looked up. "I wanted to check in and see how your first week went," Headmistress Gertie said, her reading glasses glinting from the chain around her neck.

  "Fine," I said stiffly. It was actually only two days that had passed, so I'd hardly count that as time for anyone to adjust anywhere, but especially a reform school.

  "I am pleased that you have managed to stay out of trouble," She added.

  "Thanks?" I wasn't sure how to reply.

  The headmistress smiled. "I am pleased that the young daughter of two terrible fugitives is reforming so quickly." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm sure that you're being sincere and not faking it, right? Or should I have reasons to doubt your commitment to being rehabilitated?"

  I clenched the hem of my skirt. "Not at all, ma'am," I lied. I wondered if she could read minds. Too late for that if she could.

  My answer seemed to please her. "Excellent." She waved her hand to dismiss me. "That is all." She went back to reading the papers on her desk.

  I bolted out of her office as fast as I could, desperate for cool fresh air and to be free of her shrewd gaze. I brushed my hair away from my face and let out a long sigh.

 

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