Charm School (The Demon's Apprentice Book 4)

by Ben Reeder

  Stewart caught up to me outside Jefferson Hall as I waited for Junkyard to finish baptizing an obscure and undeserving bush. Overhead, the air was buzzing with sprites going back and forth between buildings.

  “So that’s how our mail gets delivered,” I said as he stopped beside me.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, as if I had just mentioned that the sun came up in the east. “I saw Lodge waiting outside class for you today.”

  “Yeah. He didn’t actually do anything, he just stood there.”

  “That’s what he usually does. He’ll show up in different places, and just watch, at first. Then, he’ll do something, beat a kid up, cast a hex on them or something. Then he goes back to watching for a few weeks. Before long, his victims either transfer to a different school, or go to great lengths to avoid him. I’ve seen him do it every year after his first.”

  “Why do they let him keep getting away with it?”

  “Because he’s a Lodge,” Stewart said. “No one dares accuse him of anything. He’ll be a Hall Captain next semester, and Head Boy his senior year, just because of who his father is.”

  “And you’re telling me this because?”

  “Because he thinks you’re his next victim, Fortunato. He’s decided you don’t belong here, no matter what the Board of Scholars or even Master Draeden and the Council says. He’s taken it on himself to correct their error. I think it’s high time he learned what disappointment and failure taste like.”

  “Are you sure you’re not violating some Boston Brahmin Code of Honor or something by doing this?” I asked. “I mean, you’re pretty much breaking ranks just talking to me, right?”

  “There’s bit of doggerel about the Boston Brahmins that the cowan use, about the Lowells only speaking to the Cabots, and the Cabots only speaking to God. You think there are equals here? There’s a pecking order among the older families, and an expectation of how things are supposed to be. The Lodges are at the top of the heap, and everyone else kisses their ass in a very specific order. I’m a much better mage than Sterling, but he’ll be the one with the seat on the Board of Mages someday, or sitting on the International Council. So talking to you might be breaking ranks, but it’s better that an outsider deals with him than one of his ‘peers’ tries to do it.”

  “Because that’s just not the way things are supposed to be for you,” I said. “And you people call poor folks ‘entitled.’”

  “Look, I’m trying to help you out here, Chance.”

  “Then help me. Just telling me that he’s going to do shit he’s going to get away with isn’t as useful as you might think.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “Look, when he’s going to do something, he’ll bring friends. He’ll use magic, but most importantly, he’ll try not to leave any physical marks, especially not where they can be seen. So aim for the face. Go for black eyes, broken noses, busted lips. Make it hard for them to cover up what they’re doing.”

  “What’s to stop him from accusing me of attacking him or his buddies?”

  “That’s the beauty of it,” Stewart chuckled. “He doesn’t dare accuse you of attacking him. It would make him look weak to the rest of his peers, and he can’t afford that. If some of the other guys smelled blood in the water, they’d go after him in a heartbeat. One black eye, he can explain as a lucky shot, but not two or three.”

  “Five is right out,” I said.

  “What?” Stewart asked.

  “Nothing, just a movie quote. I got it. Aim for the face. I can do that.” So that was what that felt like. After almost a year of being the one on the ignorant side of pretty much every pop culture reference, I was finally the one making the obscure reference no one else got.

  “Good. Now, we can’t be seen talking too much, or it will look like I’m…you know…”

  “Doing exactly what you’re doing?” I said. “I get it; you’re not hanging out with the unwashed masses. But thanks for the heads up and the advice.” I turned and headed into the dorm. Day one was almost done, and I had an enemy and an ally of almost equal standing. On the plus side, I had some new friends, too. Hell and high school weren’t all that different. You had rigid factions vying for power, and everyone smiled to each other’s faces while they sharpened their knives behind their backs. At least in high school, I’d found a few people I could trust.

  Hoshi was already in the room, lounging on his bed with Canterbury Tales open in front of him. “Hey,” he said without looking up. I looked around, and immediately went stiff. Something felt off.

  “Someone’s been in here,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Hoshi said. “One of the sprites left your dog some food.” About that time, I heard the crunching of Junkyard’s kibble.

  “Junkyard, stop,” I said. To the big guy’s credit, he did, but the look he gave me was calculated for maximum guilt. I knelt and plucked one of the hard chunks of food from the bowl. It looked like the small bag I’d brought with me, but sprites were still fae, even if most fae considered them lower caste. Accepting food or gifts from them brought certain obligations. Services, on the other hand… that was a little fuzzy.

  “Did he ask for anything?” I demanded.

  “Only if he could feed the dog. Put the flag on the campus mail box up, he’ll probably be here in a few seconds.”

  “He better be,” I said as I crossed the room to the foot-wide wooden door in our wall. When I opened it, I found myself staring at an oval face with large, almond shaped, lavender colored eyes.

  “Hi,” the sprite said. His hair was a pale green, like spring grass, and he stuck one slender hand out. I grabbed it and pulled him into the room. His dragonfly like wings snapped back out straight and his two antennae sloped backward over his head, the two lobes at the end of each bobbing up and down. He dangled from my hand, wings very still, with a nervous smile on his face.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I’m Ren, Jefferson Hall messenger cadre, messenger third class. Can I…can I play with your dog?”

  “What?”

  “Your dog. He seems so nice, and he’s not a dumb drone like all the other critters here.”

  “Is that why you fed him?” I asked.

  “Yes!” Ren chirped. “I used your food, so there wasn’t any kind of obligation, even if it was to a sprite, who serves in your house, so technically, there really couldn’t be any kind of enforceable debt. I just wanted to pet him and throw the ball for him sometimes.” The words tumbled out of his mouth almost too fast for me to understand. I set his feet down on the desk and let go of his hand. On the desk, he was about two feet tall. His feet were bare, and his tunic was a simple affair, not much more complicated than a poncho, or maybe a pillowcase with holes cut out for his head, wings and arms, and a belt to hold it on.

  “That’s really up to Junkyard,” I said. Behind me, Junkyard let out a low whine. “Oh, yeah, sorry. It’s cool, you can eat it.” Crunching resumed.

  “You leave it up to him to decide?” Ren asked.

  “He’s a good judge of character. I trust him,” I said as I set my backpack down and opened it. I tossed my books on my bed, then opened the compartment on the back and pulled out the peanut butter, honey and cracker packets that I’d taken from the cafeteria at lunch.

  “Is that…peanut butter?” Ren asked as I opened the drawer.

  “Yeah,” I tossed a packet of the peanut butter to him. “You’re my guest, the obligation is mine.” He smiled and tucked it into the pouch on his belt. Junkyard had emptied his bowl, and was sitting by the bed eying Ren. “Don’t eat him, he wants to get to know you.” He tilted his head to one side, then opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out, what I’d learned was his version of a smile. I gestured to Ren. He fluttered his wings enough to get himself a little lift and drifted to the floor in front of Junkyard.

  Slowly, the sprite lifted his hand and presented his knuckles to be sniffed. Junkyard took a few whiffs, then ducked his head under Ren’s palm so t
hat he was petting him. For a few moments, Ren simply ran his hand down Junkyard’s coat, then he scratched him behind the ears and earned my dog’s undying loyalty for the next few minutes.

  “Can we go downstairs?” Ren asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “It’s nice enough, I can do some of my homework down there. I’ll be right behind you.” Junkyard went to the lever at the bottom of the door and pawed at it, then went out into the hallway and headed for the stairwell, while Ren went back out through the box.

  “What’s his deal?” Hoshi asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said as I grabbed my Alchemy book. “I know sprites are very domestic. They tend to live on farms and ranches or near gardens, and they love plants and animals. I didn’t see any cats or dogs when they were testing Junkyard, so maybe he just hasn’t seen a dog in a long time.”

  “What, he can’t get all cuddly with a koala?” Hoshi asked.

  “Doubt it,” I said. “You ought to come on down, too.” He shrugged, and I made my way to the stairs.

  Outside, I saw Ren flying low and just ahead of Junkyard, who was at a full out run. They headed into a stand of trees and I watched as they wove in and out between the trunks. Junkyard’s barks and Ren’s laughter were musical sounds as I sat down on the broad steps facing the outside of the U.

  No sooner than I had planted my butt on the stone, another sprite, this one dressed a little better in an actual shirt and pants, floated down in front of me. His wings were a crimson blur behind him, and his face was set in a neutral looking mask. Apple red hair fluttered in the wind of his wings as he crossed his arms and looked out at Ren and Junkyard playing.

  “I’m so sorry, sir,” the sprite said, his words short and sharp. “I’ll make sure this miscreant stops harassing your dog.” Something about this sprite rubbed me wrong, and I found my blood racing at the thought of him disturbing Ren and Junkyard while they were having fun.

  “He’s not harassing him,” I said. “He’s exercising him for me.” The new sprite’s head turned, and his antennae shook as they dangled in front of him.

  “You mean he’s doing this…”

  “At my request. So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interfere in my dog’s run.”

  “I…I…I’m so sorry, sir,” the new sprite said. “I didn’t realize.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t. Think nothing of it.” I gave him my best imitation of a dismissive wave, and he flew off. Once I was sure he was gone, I allowed myself a smile.

  After a few minutes, my pocket buzzed, and I fished out the phone Shade had given me. There was a text waiting for me, a picture of her in her car, blowing me a kiss. Under the picture, it read:

  >Shade: Hey, hottie. Whatcha doing?

  Chance: Wishing I was kissing you.<

  >Shade: I miss you so much. I’ve been thinking about you all day.

  Chance: Miss you, too. Thought about texting you, but I really don’t want anyone to take this phone.<

  >Shade: Can I call?

  Chance: Please!<

  A few seconds later, my phone was playing the opening bars of Love N’ Chains’ “Full Moon”, and when I swiped the answer bar, I was treated to Shade’s face smiling at me.

  “I needed to see your face,” she said with a smile.

  “And I needed to hear your voice. I miss you so bad.”

  “Miss you too, baby. How was your first day of wizard school?”

  “Rough. Already pissed some people off, made a couple of friends. Give me a couple of weeks, I’ll probably be in the headmaster’s office. How was your day?”

  “Boring,” she said with a little pout. “Depressing. I realized today you’re not going to be here for Homecoming.”

  “Maybe I can skip a day and come home for it.”

  “That would be ironically apropos,” she said with a wicked little grin. “Or maybe I could come up there for yours. I’ll wear something sexy, maybe get that dress I wanted with the leather bodice. We could scandalize all the blue bloods.”

  “That’s why I love you,” I laughed. “You think like I do. I have it on good authority that you’d make all the old clans of werewolves out here pretty much pee all over themselves if you showed up.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.” Her grin got wider.

  “Maybe you should talk to Sinbad about it.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she purred. “I’m sure they sent someone to talk to him. I bet he’s just waiting for me to show up on his doorstep. Ugh, enough of that crap, though. Tell me about your classes, your dorm room, tell me everything!”

  I was in the middle of telling her about alchemy when I heard another ring tone.

  “Crap, it’s my mom,” she said. “Hang on.” She put the other phone up to her ear, and for a few moments, she was the dutiful daughter. When she finally put her other phone down, her face was creased in a frown.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Mom’s on this kick again where she thinks I should be ‘over’ you by now and getting back with Brad or finding myself a respectable boyfriend that she can show off at the faculty get-togethers. I’ve got to go. She wants me home in ten minutes. But I’ll call you later tonight.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Stay under her radar. I’ll talk to you later. Love you, babe.”

  “Love you, hot stuff,” she said before the screen went dark. I went back to poring over alchemical equations.

  As the light faded to the point that I was starting to have trouble reading, Ren flew back with a panting Junkyard following behind him. His wings glowed in a light purple blur behind him as he set foot on the rail beside me.

  “I saw Egle talking to you,” Ren said as I rubbed Junkyard’s head.

  “Yeah, I told him you were exercising Junkyard for me.”

  “Really?” Ren said, his lavender eyes getting wide. “So, is it okay if I do it again sometime?”

  “Let me check. Did you have fun, Junkyard?” I got an enthusiastic bark in response. “You want to do it again sometime?” Another bark, and he turned around in a quick circle, his tail going so hard his bony little hips were wiggling. “Looks like you’re hired,” I said. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your other obligation to the school.”

  “Oh, no, I promise, it won’t! We’re usually free between three and eight. Egle likes to deliver the evening dispatches late. He likes making students scramble.”

  “What a dick,” I said. “So, I have a question, if it’s not too sensitive. Most sprites’ antennae bend forward. Why are yours backward?”

  “Because I’m fast! Before the school bought my contract, I used to work with the Sentinels’ advance teams. We used to scout out places for them and tell them where the bad guys were. Then that jerk Polter took over, and made the Sentinels human only. Now I just deliver mail. Which is important stuff, don’t get me wrong. But man, it sure doesn’t compare to being a scout.”

  “Sounds kind of dangerous,” I said. I closed my book and looked at him with new intensity.

  “Nah, most people take us for granted, and we’re so fast, most people miss us anyway. So, can I do this again Wednesday?”

  “You can do it every day if you want,” I said.

  “I wish I could, but I have to go into the Commons tomorrow evening to deliver some orders. And Wednesdays are half days for labs and extracurriculars.”

  “Can you deliver one for me? I’m going to need food for Junkyard pretty regularly.”

  “Sure,” Ren said, his wings glowing pink as they fanned the air behind him. “I know of some places with good prices.”

  “Good. Then I’ll see you Wednesday.” I stood up to go back inside, and Ren flew off, leaving a pink glow in his wake.

  Chapter 5

  ~ You’ve never seen it all. Keep learning and exploring. It will keep you sane over the centuries. ~ Mordecai Straj, ancient wizard

  Tuesday dawned gray and rainy, and I woke up to the rumble of thunder in the hour before dawn. Junkyard stirred as I got up and grabbed
my blanket. Oddly enough, I didn’t remember any bad dreams, which I chalked up to being too tired to dream at all. For me, there were no other kind of dreams than bad dreams. Not even Junkyard could stop those entirely, though they weren’t as bad as they used to be.

  My first class of the day was Evocation II, which was across the quad from Jefferson House. I grabbed my cloak and swung it over my shoulders, then headed out the door. Very few students seemed willing to brave the rain, which was fine by me. I let my memory walk through the conversation I’d had with Shade late last night. Her mother was serious about breaking us up, and Shade had called me with puffy eyes and a long face. We’d only talked for a few minutes, and most of that had been us trying to reassure each other that we’d be okay, and trying to say ‘I love you’ as many times as we could. Even now, I still didn’t know what we were going to do.

  The rain tapped against the oiled leather of the cloak, and I let the deep hood hide the frown on my face as I walked through the wet grass. Junkyard trotted along beside me, acting like he wasn’t getting wet. I’d told him to stay in the room today but he didn’t listen. I just hoped he didn’t show up to class all wet and smelling of dog. My class was on the top floor of the main hall, and it took up the front half of the building. Mr. Hamilton was a round, balding little man who paced in front of the board the whole class as he went over the basics of manipulating magic as pure energy in the form of light, heat and kinetic force.

  “By the end of this semester,” he said while he practically bounced from one side of the room to the other, “you will all have an appreciation of and proficiency in the geometry of energy forms. The higher Art of Evocation is not about fire and lightning. It is the mastery of form and the ability to mold energy with precision. It is the mastery of Magick in its purest form. We will start with the most basic form in geometry, the line.” As he finished, he put his index fingers together, then muttered a word. When he pulled his fingers apart, a glowing line of green light appeared between his fingertips. “Turn to page twenty-two.” The classroom exploded into motion as we started turning pages.