by KC Kingmaker
If trying to hand-gesture shadows into animation was embarrassing, then trying to shadowwalk unsuccessfully was positively mortifying. All I did was step, stamp, and stomp on various patches of gray. I looked and felt idiotic.
After patronizing me for repeating verbatim what she had originally called “shadowgates,” Professor Avery clasped her hands in front of her. “Think of a shadowgate as a puddle on the street. When the earth shakes, the puddle trembles, as do all the other puddles around it. And why is that?”
“Because they’re connected?”
“Precisely. Because the puddles are connected in ways we cannot see—linked by the earth itself. Or, often linked by small streams of water which advance from one puddle to the next, yes?”
I understood her puddle metaphor well enough, but I wasn’t sure how it would help me. I also wasn’t sure how truthful her statement was, because weren’t puddles independent of each other? Same with ponds?
I wasn’t about to argue with the professor. Clearly she was trying to make a point.
“That connecting line is what tethers the puddles together. Shadows are connected by tethers as well, except the tether resides in your mind, rather than in the earth.” She tapped her temple. “The thread between the shadows is what we call the ‘gate.’ It’s what controls advancement through them. The mental thread is also why it’s difficult for a shadowblade to pass through shadows they’ve never seen before. There’s no connection there.”
The professor threw her small arms out wide, gesturing at the classroom. Unlike Shadow Manipulation, the class took place in a room where the shadows were artificially created using light sources. It made for an easier shadowwalking experience for the students.
So far, only a few of the students had been able to pass from one shadow and emerge from another, even if they were just feet apart. Charli wasn’t one of them, though she seemed on the cusp of getting it. Frustration twisted her little features. Apparently it took a lot of concentration—which we both lacked, it seemed.
I felt a bit of relief in knowing I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t shadowwalk. It was tough for everyone, more advanced than anything else the Ghosts had tried yet, which didn’t bode well for my chances of success.
I tried to absorb all of Professor Avery’s words from her monologue. She had thrown a lot at me and I felt like it was some sophisticated stuff. Is this why my shadow powers aren’t working at all? I don’t have the “tether” she’s speaking of?
“Find the thread in your head and the shadows will come to you,” she said, somewhat confirming my thoughts.
I nodded. “So this tether, or thread, Professor, is the ‘road’ you spoke of in your first metaphor?”
Her head bobbed left and right. “Yes and no. The road is the thread in your mind that connects shadows, yes, but it’s also an actual road. It’s not a metaphor. When you move from shadow to shadow, you travel that road. It’s where your body goes while you’re absent from the material world here.” She smiled at me like it explained everything.
I felt more confused. She had added layers and I couldn’t keep up. Maybe I’m in a food coma after eating my weight at the mess hall with Charli. I thought it was the end of the conversation.
Then she said, “As you’ve seen in this class, careless or inexperienced students oftentimes find themselves emerging from the same shadow they vanished into. They lack the connecting tether and end up right where they started. So remember: You must be careful.”
“Careful about what, Professor?”
“About falling off the road, of course!”
My eyes bulged. “Um, and where does that lead?”
“To the Spectral Realm, my dear. The other world in the ‘road between worlds’ phrase.”
“God help me,” I muttered.
“Oh, God can’t save you. If you Slip into the Spectral Realm, you might have a hard time returning.” She flapped a hand at me like it was nothing to worry about, but inside I was losing my shit. “We’ll talk all about that later in the semester. I’m jumping ahead. For now, take it slow like the other students and everything should be fine. Just be cautious where you step.” She smiled, nodded, and walked off, leaving me dumbfounded.
Be cautious . . . where I step?
Shit, I’m not even sure I want to shadowwalk anymore!
Chapter 18
Coralia
WEEK FIVE. A PALPABLE wave of excitement had been buzzing through campus as students prepared for the upcoming Shadowball season. It was starting before midterms, in a few weeks.
In the mess hall, in classes, and even on my walks through campus, I overheard my peers debating the strengths and weaknesses of each Glove, or team. They made bets on which individual players they thought would be all-stars, have breakout years, or flounder in obscurity in the upcoming season.
I had no idea what the sport entailed, and didn’t really care. Big surprise: I’d never been a jock or a cheerleader. I’d been more of a nerdy, arm-warmer-wearing theater kid throughout my formative years. As a kid, I’d preferred the newest episode of Naruto rather than Sunday Night Football.
While the excitement bloomed, I hermitted in my room, trying my luck at activating my magic. I was still having no success in the shadow arts. But, as spring started to shift into summer, signaling the Shadowball season, and the campus park became a spectacle of colorful wildflowers, something inside me changed.
I found my first bit of success on a chilly Friday evening. Classes had ended and I retreated to the mess hall to pick up a hot dinner to warm my weary, frustrated bones. I went alone, which meant my head was on a swivel, on the lookout for bullies. Genevieve, her girl gang, and Sunny were all absent, which eased the tension out of my shoulders and let me relax a little.
After ravenously chowing down my spaghetti and magical meatballs, I made my way back to the dorm, where I had a scheduled study session with Charli. Spirits bless the girl for agreeing to meet with me on a Friday night. She could have been out with her magical friends instead. Unlike me, Charli was quick to make friends because she was so bubbly and contagiously sweet.
I made my way up to the third story of the dorm and was about to let myself in when I heard a loud crash coming from inside.
My body jerked, muscles flexing as I reached for the doorknob. Yowling reached my ears, and I calmed down, smiling at the sound of Bruce Kittenson. Dirty rascal’s up to no good, knocking things off every countertop.
I opened the door. My mouth fell open.
Brucey had the zoomies. He hopped off our tiny couch, claws scratching the leather, and catapulted to my bed. From there he leaped for the desktop at the foot of my bed, sending papers flying in the air like a hurricane.
What made my mouth fall open was that something chased him—a little, golden-orange . . . fox? Its long bushy tail propelled the animal as it nipped at Bruce’s heels, jumping everywhere my cat went. While Bruce yowled playfully, having the time of his life, the fox yipped and made little snickering sounds of its own.
My first thought was to check the windows, to see if they were open and I’d let in a transient forest creature.
They were closed.
I shut the door behind me and both critters paused their raucous chase scene. Bruce’s head whipped to me from my desk, his expressive face a mixture of fear and curiosity, knowing he’d just been caught red-handed.
The fox bumped into Bruce’s behind and sprawled onto its side before kicking its blackened legs and sitting up straight as a board. Its big eyes looked familiar, and I let out a gasp as they locked onto mine.
“Just what the hell is going on here? Brucey, explain yourself! Who is your friend?”
With a scared huff, the fox jumped from the desk and blurred past me to the other side of the room. It hopped onto Charli’s pink bed and buried itself under the polka-dotted blanket.
My brow pinched together as the little creature wriggled under the covers, invisible to my eyes. Then a bigger shape took form beneath
the blanket.
Seconds later, a little head popped out from the top of the covers. Charli’s curly orange hair was the first thing I saw, before her tomato-tinged face hit me with a shy smile. “H-Hi, Cor Cor.”
I looked at Bruce, then back to her, my finger pointing. “Wait a sec. You’re . . .”
“Sorry. I forgot we had practice today.” Her little hands cupped the covers, keeping it raised to her chin. “Could you turn around so I can get dressed?”
I blinked and gave her a dumb nod. Once facing the door, I rested my forehead on the surface and heard rustling behind me. “You’re a fox, Charli?”
“A fox shifter. Yes.”
“That’s . . . adorable. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It never came up, boo. Okay, you can turn around now.”
She was getting a white tank top over her skinny body when I turned. She’d thrown on sweatpants, and finished by wrapping herself in an oversized coat. Sitting on her bed, she submerged deep into the coat, until she was just a blob sitting there with a little head poking out.
I scratched my head. “Do you have some kind of, uh, affinity toward Brucey?” My eyes veered toward my scandalous cat, who stared at me with cool disregard now that playtime was over.
“Huh? What do you mean? I just think he’s cute.”
I could have taken that a number of ways. I said the first thing that came to my mind: “You didn’t let Bruce, um . . . you know.”
She cocked her head in confusion. I wasn’t even able to finish the thought because it was too dirty and Charli was too pure. For a moment, I didn’t think she would catch on, but she finally did. A deep scarlet blush bloomed on her cheeks. “What! N-No! Gross, Cor Cor!”
I waved my hands frantically at her. “Sorry, sorry! I just don’t need a whole bunch of kittens running around and, wait, would that even work? Probably not, huh?” I couldn’t stop my word soup.
“Please stop!” She clenched her eyes shut. “My mind is forever tainted.”
“Yeah, I have that effect.”
“Can we just get to studying?”
“Yes. Please.”
For the next hour, she showed me incantations from Briarwitch Academy—“basic magic” as she put it. She spoke strange, foreign words in a low volume, did the hand movements, and I followed her word for word, signal for signal.
A small stream of water spilled out of her fingertips and wetted the carpet next to her bed. “Oops,” she said, then repeated the phrasing, slightly differently. The water twisted from her fingertips, circling around in a double helix. It whipped toward the ground without breaking free. “I’m a little rusty.”
I stared in awe as the point of the water daubed the carpet and then sucked back in toward her hand.
Charli had been showing me her magical powers for the better part of five weeks. It never ceased to amaze me what she could do. She was able to create turrets of wind that could snuff out a candle or slice through leaves; water whips that arced through the air; barriers of fire that shielded her fist in flames.
She called it “spellweaving,” and had taught me about the three basic schools of magic. “Spellswords create offensive magic like fireballs and tidal waves and stuff. Spellshields use those same elements to create defensive magic like barriers of fire and walls of ice. Spellweaving is sort of a combination of the two. A spell user’s school is decided by the Reckoning Stones at Briarwitch Academy, but it’s more for show than anything else—you don’t need the Stones to choose for you. The power is inherently inside every supernatural.”
Charli told me each user was limited to a single school, “Except Dawn Rose, of course. She was a famous student with an ancient bloodline that belonged to all three schools.”
I’d heard of her, vaguely. “Sounds powerful.”
“Uber powerful,” Charli agreed. “She also had some other powers. I’m not sure how to explain them or what they do.”
I wanted to meet this Dawn Rose. I wonder if she can teach me something about myself, given how strong she sounds. “Where can I find her?” I asked. “Is she still at Briarwitch, like, as a teacher or something?”
“Oh no, her purpose is supposedly much bigger than that. Last I heard she was traveling the world trying to undo cursed supernaturals.”
“Cursed supernaturals?”
“The Turned. They have some sort of affliction that renders them mindless,” Charli said. Her face twisted into a frown. “They can be found wandering in the forests and mountains and anywhere civilization hasn’t touched, but their numbers are dwindling in recent years, thanks to Miss Rose. She’s only one person though.”
“These Turned sound dangerous.”
“They want to eat your brains.”
I gasped. “W-What?!”
Charli giggled. “Just kidding, boo.” Her giggle died on her lips. “Well, I think . . . I’m not too sure what they’re all about. Anywho! Let’s get back to it. Here’s the incantation for . . .”
Her words trailed off in my ears. She showed me another small magic trick, but I was hardly paying attention. I knew the movements and gestures by now. That wasn’t the problem.
Jeez, I wonder what I could have learned at Briarwitch Academy, I thought, feeling sad. I had jumped the line from undergrad to graduate school, and now I was seeing the difficulties of doing that. I was ill-equipped compared to my peers. It’s no wonder I can’t do shit around here. I didn’t have the proper line of training!
“Okay, ready?” Charli asked, drawing me back to reality. Her legs were crossed on the bed.
I nodded confidently. Inside, the forlorn feeling ripped at my gut, driving me into a depression because I knew how the outcome of the little exercise would end up. No matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, it didn’t make a difference. Bless Charli for her optimism, but we were grasping at straws—
“Coralia!” she squealed.
“Huh?” My eyes went to my outstretched palm, where I’d mimicked the maneuver her hands made.
Sparks shot from my fingertips.
My mouth slowly popped open, eyes widening in disbelief.
A small lick of flame slithered out of my palm, inching toward Charli in a growing cylinder. It crackled and sizzled, growing until the pillar of fire nearly touched my fingertips.
“O-Oh my God!” I stammered.
Immediately when I freaked out and snapped back to reality, the flame sputtered and vanished. A puff of smoke swirled in the air and dissipated.
Charli let out an excited yelp and pushed herself into me, throwing her arms around my body in a lung-crushing embrace. “You’re a spellweaver like me, Cor Cor! Like most shadowblades, really. You can do it, boo! You’re a real magic user!”
I was too stunned to speak.
Holy shit. I did it.
But how?
Chapter 19
Coralia
THE NEXT DAY, I WAS too excited to sit still. I could do magic! Even though it was a paltry excuse compared to everyone around me, I had been ready to throw in the towel. I’d take what I could get.
I wanted to meet up with Charli at all hours of the day and practice my spellweaving. She had her own life and things to study, though, so I went to the academy library in the boring white-building district, grabbed some old tomes on basic spellcasting, and did my own research.
I became so engrossed in my studies, I completely lost track of time. Day turned into night. Students funneled in and out. Yet I stayed. On a Saturday night.
Copying passages into a notebook, I wrote down hand signals, gestures, incantations—everything I could find that would further my abilities. I became obsessed. And here I thought I’d just be able to go back to my regular boring life after finding my sister. That I had no powers to speak of and this was all just a big farce.
With my newfound knowledge, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. What I really wanted to do was somehow extrapolate all the information I’d learned about spellweaving into shadowcasting. I was playing c
atch-up.
Obviously, after the first spark of fire in front of Charli, I had immediately tried my hand at shadow manipulation. Sadly, I had the same result as usual, but this time I didn’t let it bring me down too badly.
I needed something to jumpstart my shadow abilities—if I really had them—because midterms were right around the corner. If things didn’t change fast, I was screwed. I’d flunk out of the Academy before I even had the chance to see what I could do.
A low grumbling reached my ears and made me sit up. I’d been scrunched like a goblin, poring over books and writing notes, for hours. Blinking my dry eyes, I scanned the quiet library and saw it was mostly empty. Someone was shuffling through books behind me, but I didn’t have the energy to turn around and see who it was.
The grumbling happened again and I furrowed my brow. My hand went to my belly. The grumbling is . . . me. Holy shit, when’s the last time I ate? I had been going for hours without fuel.
“You won’t be doing much learning if you’re in the infirmary from malnourishment,” a voice chirped behind me.
Venn Gable rounded my chair and came to my side, perching on the edge of my table with a smirk on his pretty face.
I scowled at him. “Where the hell did you come from? Have you been following me?”
He raised a palm. “Calm down, turbo. You’re hangry.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Your roommate told me where you were.”
“So you have been following me.” My scowl deepened.
He lifted the book in his hand. The cover read Alchemical Compounds III. “You missed your tutoring session with me.”
My scowl flattened, embarrassment taking over. “Shit.” I averted my eyes and scratched my neck. “I, uh, guess I got carried away. That was tonight?” After his small nod, I scoffed. “Whose bright idea was it to schedule our tutoring on Saturday nights?”
“Yours.”
My face sank further and my cheeks burned. “R-Really? I don’t remember that.”
