Druid Magic (Druid Academy Book 1)

by C. S. Churton

“I heard his father’s taken a job as a janitor for the circle,” the other one said, and I could hear the sneer in her voice. I tried to tune them out. I wasn’t about to let them ruin my first class at Dragondale.

  “Of course,” the professor continued, her voice cutting across the whispers behind my back, “it takes many years of study to achieve control like that which you have just witnessed. Today, we will be starting with something more basic.”

  Well, that was a relief, and judging by the look on Sam’s face beside me, I wasn’t the only one who thought so. The professor held up her hand, palm facing us, and the centre of it glowed. I blinked, thinking it was a trick of the light, but as I watched the glow grew stronger, until it was a bright blue light that could have lit up half the room, if the fireballs in the corner weren’t already doing that.

  “Your magic comes from within. You must simply focus on your hand and feel your magic inside it.”

  Feel my magic? I shot Kelsey a bewildered look. How was I supposed to do that when I had no idea what magic even felt like?

  “Excellent work, Felicity,” Professor Swann said.

  I glanced back over my shoulder to see Felicity’s palm glowing with a soft yellow. That did it. If she could do it, I could do it. I stared down at my palm, willing it to glow red. It stayed resolutely skin-coloured.

  “Told you she had no magic,” a voice whispered from behind me, obviously meant for me to overhear.

  “Like this.” Kelsey showed me her palm, which had a dull red pulsing on its skin. I tried again, furrowing my brow with concentration.

  “Everyone show me your palms. I will be coming round and instructing each of you.”

  Professor Swann started with the front row, of course. She worked her way along, giving advice to each student, whose hands invariably glowed brighter by the time she moved on. Of course, they’d all had glows to start with. When she reached mine, there still wasn’t so much as a flicker.

  “Focus, Ms Eldridge. You will achieve nothing in my class if you do not apply yourself.”

  My face flushed red under the undeserved criticism, but my palm did not.

  “You must reach inside yourself and focus on the fire within.”

  I thought back to when my rejection letter caught fire in the clearing. I’d been annoyed, disappointed in myself, and bitter that they’d turned me down. Even a little angry when Toby had scratched me, unprovoked. I summoned all those feelings to mind, and willed them into my hand.

  “Keep trying, I have no doubt that you will get it. Eventually.” The last word spoken with a sigh that made me question her not doubting me. “I will return to you after assisting the other students.”

  She moved on to Sam, whose palm was giving a slight red glow. He must be a Fire, too. And better than me. Shocker. Apparently, I was the only one who couldn’t master the simplest exercise imaginable. Even Liam had a faint red glow pulsing on his palm.

  “Very good, Felicity,” I heard the professor say as she moved along the row behind me. “Why don’t you practice increasing and decreasing the strength of your glow? We were going to work on that in our next lesson, but I see no point in holding you back.”

  I’ve always been a glutton for punishment, so I turned round in time to see the smug look on Felicity’s face. Of course she excelled in class. I was going to have to stop calling her a bimbo. How annoying.

  “Paisley, that’s very good,” the professor said, inspecting Felicity’s dark-haired friend’s palm. “You could be a little more consistent around the edges. See how it’s just a little fainter here?”

  She pointed to a spot on Paisley’s palm, and I turned away before I ran the risk of puking. Everyone was better than I was. Maybe Felicity was right. Maybe I didn’t belong here. I should have just carried on studying to resit my normal exams, in my normal, non-magical world, which was clearly where I belonged.

  “You’ll get it,” Kelsey whispered as soon as Swann was out of earshot.

  “What if I don’t?” I whispered back. She gave me a sympathetic smile.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Sam said, not taking as much care to keep his voice quiet – he clearly wasn’t so terrified of getting in trouble with Swann as Kelsey was. “Some people round here have been practicing for years, even if they’re not supposed to have been.”

  He gave Felicity a meaningful look. She stared daggers back at him, then turned her eyes on me.

  “I hope you got a good returns policy on those books. You’re not going to be needing them much longer.”

  I was definitely going to punch her this time. My hands bunched into fists, because dammit, I’d dealt with people like her my entire life, and I wasn’t about to back down to some rich bitch who thought her daddy’s money made her better than everyone else.

  “Lyssa!” I heard Kelsey’s gasp beside me. I thought she just didn’t want me getting into trouble by rearranging Felicity’s too-pretty face, but when she grabbed my fist and flipped it over, I saw what had her so worked up. There was a red glow seeping through my clenched fingers. I opened my hand and stared at the bright red circle sitting in the centre of my palm. My mouth popped open in surprise and delight, and the flare disappeared as quickly as it had come. I glanced around, but apparently no-one other than me, Kelsey and Sam had seen it.

  Dammit. I was never going to convince Swann I’d pulled it off. I slumped in my seat and went back to staring at my palm, willing it to turn red again.

  Chapter Seven

  I didn’t manage to make my palm glow again for the rest of the lesson, but I knew it had happened, and unlike the letter catching fire in the clearing, other people had seen it, too – so I knew I wasn’t imagining it. The Tilimeuse Tree was right. I was a druid, and I belonged at the Dragondale Academy of Druidic Magic.

  We all chattered excitedly on the way to breakfast – taken in the main hall, with each elemental house seated together in one quarter. The stage Professor Talendale had addressed us from yesterday now held a counter with a line of students queuing up, each holding a plate. Me, Kelsey, and Sam each snagged a plate from the pile and joined the end of the line. There were about thirty students in front of us, and only one person serving at the counter. I had a feeling we were going to be in for a long wait, but the queue moved surprisingly quickly.

  “So, you never even knew magic existed before you came here?” Sam said, staring at me in bemusement as we neared the counter. I shook my head.

  “Nope. I thought the whole thing was a joke when I got my acceptance letter.”

  “Well, I think you’re doing great.” He cast a look in the direction of the Air quarter. “So don’t let Felicity get to you. She’ll get bored soon enough and pick on someone else. There’s a reason they call them airheads.”

  “He’s right, you know,” Kelsey piped up, as she neared the front of the queue and set her plate on the counter. “Not many people could summon their element within a day of learning about it. Felicity has had her whole life to practice that sort of thing. Not that we’re supposed to… but everyone does, just a little. And some people do more than a little because they think the rules don’t apply to them. Just wait until we start learning new things. I bet she won’t find it half so easy then.”

  “Well, if it isn’t the two outcasts.”

  I turned round and found myself face to face with Felicity.

  “Although I’m surprised to see you wasting your time with these two losers, Sam. I thought you had better breeding than that.”

  “You thought?” Sam said. “That must have been a novel experience for an airhead.”

  She glowered at him, and for a moment I thought she was actually going to stamp her foot like a spoiled princess. Instead, she plastered a nasty smile on her face and elbowed past me.

  “Don’t mind if I go first, do you, charity case?”

  “Be my guest.” I smiled sweetly. “It might help you learn the difference between breeding and class.”

  Her smile tightened as she slap
ped her plate down on the counter.

  “Bagels,” she said without so much as a glance at the man behind the counter. “And a melon slice.”

  The man muttered a few words and the food appeared on her plate. Just appeared, out of thin air. I waited for her to pick up her plate and saunter away before I whispered to Kelsey.

  “Did he just create that?”

  “Not exactly,” she replied, not bothered to whisper. “All the food comes from the kitchen, but it’s more like a storeroom. If the raw ingredients are there, he can transform them into whatever you want. Like if you wanted steak, he could cast the spell and it would appear, fully cooked.” She broke off and gave him a smile. “Kitchen mages are incredibly skilled. But, if there was no beef in the kitchen, he couldn’t simply conjure it from nowhere.”

  “Wow.”

  The kitchen mage was giving me an amused look as Kelsey explained everything to me, apparently in no rush – probably because we were the last students in the queue.

  “You must be the newgen,” he said. I shook my head.

  “Nope. It’s a long story.”

  “Well, I’m here breakfast, lunch and dinner, five days a week. A word to the wise though: the weekend kitchen mage is new, and she’s not all that good, so don’t order anything to complicated from her. Now, what can I get you?”

  Sam got some cereal and I opted for just a slice of toast, because my stomach was churning too much to even think of eating more. Meanwhile, Kelsey ordered a full English – sausage, eggs, bacon, toast, tomatoes – and it smelled as good as anything I’d ever seen on a plate. I looked Kelsey’s lean body up and down, wondering where she was planning to put it all, but by the end of breakfast she returned an empty plate to the counter, which is more than could be said for my feeble efforts. I felt a little guilty when I returned my virtually untouched toast to the kitchen mage, but he just gave me an understanding smile and told me I’d settle in soon enough. I hoped he was right, because a two second red glow in my palm hardly amounted to earth-shattering magic, and I was already feeling sick at the thought of my next elemental manipulation class – which apparently were a daily staple here at Dragondale.

  Gaelic was every bit as terrible as I’d feared. Everyone was miles ahead of me, and Professor Thorne went so far as to suggest I might want to have extra lessons with him at the weekends – as if my workload wasn’t heavy enough. The only good thing was that the year group was divided differently for that lesson, so I didn’t have to put up with Felicity. For that reason alone, I could almost get to like it. But not quite.

  I was so wrapped up in my lessons, and how terrible I was at most of them, that it wasn’t until after dinner that I remembered I had other problems to worry about. The three of us were sitting in the Fire common room – Kelsey studying from our Botany textbook, and Sam staring up at the ceiling, declaring his brain had melted somewhere in Druidic Law – when I wondered what druids actually did to make money. I had a feeling the academy stipend wasn’t going to last me long, and besides, I didn’t want to be relying on their generosity for the rest of the year.

  “So, how do I go about getting a job?” I asked.

  “If this is because of everything Felicity was spouting earlier,” Sam started, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

  “It’s not. Besides, it’ll be a good way for me to learn about our world, right?”

  “A better way would be hanging out with us and not working,” Sam pointed out. “I mean, we’re basically experts on all things magic.”

  I pulled out a cushion I’d been leaning on and tossed it at him.

  “I saw your attempts in Potions today. You’re not an expert on anything.”

  “Ouch, burn.”

  “About the only thing I can burn,” I grumbled.

  “You’ll get it,” Kelsey said, setting her textbook aside. “Just give it time. And I heard Professor Alden was looking for a couple of first years to help out with the academy’s livestock. We’ve got class with her tomorrow.”

  “What sort of livestock?” I asked, because truth be told, I had a hard time imagining the Dragondale academy kept chickens and rabbits. Kelsey just smiled.

  “Trust me, it’ll be a great way to learn more about our world.”

  *

  If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you should never trust anyone who says ‘trust me’. Life at the academy proved to be no exception. When we traipsed down to the barn while the sun was still rising the following morning, cloaks wrapped around us for warmth, wearing the thickest gloves we owned and still shivering, Kelsey and Sam were suspiciously quiet.

  We were in a mixed class again, meaning I once more had the dubious pleasure of Felicity’s company. She was smiling nastily as we arrived in the clearing outside a large barn, painted red and gold and looking pristine.

  The professor emerged from inside it before either of us could get any decent insults in, and clapped her gloved hands. She was a short woman with a round face and red cheeks, and her hair, a mottled mix of brown and grey, was tied back.

  “Good morning, everyone. I’m Professor Alden. Once a week you will join me to be instructed in the art and science of paranormal creatures – that is to say, creatures not recognised by the average mundane. Some of you may think this class is less important than the likes of elemental manipulation and spellcraft, but I assure you your grade in my class carries every bit as much weight as the rest of your studies. Fail here, and you will not progress to your next year.”

  At her warning, a few of the guys at the back stopped messing around and started to pay attention. I chewed my lip, because I was still pretty convinced that when Professor Alden pulled those doors open, we wouldn’t be looking at a barn load of cute bunnies.

  “Some of you may be aware that Dragondale Academy has a reputation as one of the finest producers of hippogryffs in the entire magical community, and I can assure you that reputation is not undeserved.”

  I raised a hand, since no-one else seemed about to ask the question. The professor nodded to me.

  “Yes, Miss…?”

  “Eldridge. Lyssa Eldridge,” I said. “Um, what’s a hippogryff?”

  There was a burst of laughter from behind me, coming from somewhere in Felicity’s direction, and a few others joined in. My face turned red.

  “Yes, yes, very funny. Oh, you’re serious.” Alden’s eyes widened in surprise, as though I’d said I had no idea what a cow was. “Well, the hippogryff is a druid-created hybrid between a gryphon and a horse, most notably used in Itealta.”

  She gave me another nod as though that cleared everything up instead of raising at least another half-dozen questions, but I figured I might as well just wait and see for myself.

  “Follow me, everyone.”

  We turned and trudged towards the barn in her wake – most of the group because they were half-awake, me because I was still trying to decipher Alden’s answer.

  “A gryphon is a kind of mix between an eagle and a lion,” Sam said as we walked. “It’s got a beak and wings, and talons at its front end, and the back end of a lion. A lion is–”

  “I know what a lion is,” I snapped, a little more irritably than I’d intended. A look of hurt flashed across Sam’s face and I felt like the biggest jerk on campus. Way to treat the people who are actually on your side, Lyssa. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. It’s a lot to take in, right? Anyway, Itealta is a sport, like… well, I’m not really sure what the mundane equivalent is.”

  He looked at Kelsey who just shrugged.

  “Each house has a team. We’ll show you.”

  Professor Alden paused with her hand on the barn door and fixed us with a stern glare.

  “There will be absolutely no hijinks or horseplay inside this barn. The gryffs are extremely sensitive to strangers, and though these ones are tame, they will still deliver a nasty bite or kick if startled or provoked. Anyone losing a finger will have marks deducted for this class. Am I clear?”


  I didn’t think I was the only one who gulped, but I was too busy staring at the barn to be sure. No-one told me coming to the academy was going to be dangerous.

  “The gryffs have been stabled overnight due to the weather, so they will likely be a little irritable this morning. Each of you collect a food bucket on your way through, but absolutely no opening stable doors or attempting to handle the gryffs until you are told otherwise.”

  Alden swung the doors open, and I peered past her into the dimly lit barn. The musty odour of animals and straw wafted out, and then my nose wrinkled as it caught a sharp, acrid scent. I looked down at the row of twenty stainless steel buckets. As we got closer, I peered inside one and saw it was filled with whole fish – herrings and mackerel and sardines, heads, tails, guts and all. I recoiled from the sight, muttering under my breath.

  “Guess they’re not heavy on the horse side.”

  “Gryffs are carnivorous,” Kelsey told me, picking up a bucket and handing it to me, then getting another for herself. “They prefer birds and small mammals, but they also have a taste for fish.”

  “Careful one doesn’t eat you,” Felicity sneered as she elbowed past me to get her bucket. “But then, I’ve heard they prefer a rich diet, so you’re probably safe.”

  I glared at her back as she strutted off along the aisle, with Paisley and Cecelia trailing in her wake like obedient puppies. Or laughing hyenas.

  My anger was quickly forgotten when all along the rows on either side of the aisle, beaked faces appeared over the stable doors. A small gasp escaped my lips and I edged closer to the nearest one. Large, intelligent eyes followed my movements, set in a feathered, bird-like face, with ears that flickered at the sound of my approach. This one’s feathers were black, each quill edged in a fine gold outline. It quirked its head to one side and chattered its beak a little as it looked at the bucket in my hand.

  “Wow,” I breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

  The creature let out a quiet mewl, and preened, as though it could sense my appreciation. It stretched out its neck, lowering its oddly elegant beaked face towards me. I set my bucket on the floor and stretched a trembling hand through the air towards it, until my fingers were mere inches from brushing its porcelain smooth beak.