by Cheree Alsop
“It’s the worst thing I’ve ever smelled in my life,” I confirmed.
He nodded. “Which is why Wolfsbane used to be slathered, carefully, I might add, across doorframes and window sills to keep your ancestors from growing too bold. Fortunately for you, the effects will fade and only Mr. Varnes will be left with the lingering reminder that while Wolfsbane smells bad to you, the taste of Mrs. Hassleton’s antidote tonic is far worse.” He winked, then said, “Trust me.”
I caught myself staring at his unexpected civility. “I, uh, better get to class.”
“Be careful who you make friends with,” Professor Briggs replied.
I watched him closely. “I haven’t made any friends except Alden.”
The professor gave a single nod. “A friendship with a Grim is a lasting one as long as you stay true to it.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I wasn’t about to press what I took to be something other than loathing from the professor. I grabbed the piece of paper from my desk, gave the pencil on the floor a wide berth, and ran to the next room listed on my schedule.
The bell rang just before I stepped into the classroom on the second floor. Of course, that meant every head in the classroom turned to look at me when I opened the door.
“You must be Mr. Briscoe!” a woman with hair nearly down to the floor said.
“Uh, yes, I am,” I replied.
An abundance of unusual scents assailed my nose as soon as I closed the door behind me. A variety of cages filled with animals took up the entire wall across from the students. I gave Professor Mellon a closer look and realized she was holding a fox in her arms. Its coat blended into her red hair. Beady black eyes watched me steadily as I crossed to the closest open desk.
“Wait,” the professor said. “I’ve been waiting so long to try something.” She motioned with her free hand. “Come up here, please, Mr. Briscoe.”
Half-seated, I glanced at the other students. The girl on my right gave me a sympathetic half-smile. The one next to her nudged her and then glared at me. I rose and walked to the front of the classroom.
“Mr. Briscoe is The Remus Academy’s first werewolf in twenty-five years!” Professor Mellon announced as though it was the most exciting news she had heard in a very long time. I caught eye-rolls and heard sighs from the other students as if they were as tired of hearing about the new werewolf as I was. “Does anyone know what that means?” she asked.
“That he smells like a wet dog?” someone from the back of the classroom asked.
“That our lives are in danger?” another said.
Hesitant laughter followed.
Professor Mellon gave me a warm smile. “Does he look dangerous to you?”
“Dangerously hot,” a girl shouted from the back.
The laughter was freer this time and I felt my cheeks burn.
“Alright, settle down, students,” Professor Mellon said. “If you don’t give Mr. Briscoe your silence, this isn’t going to work.”
A boy with blond hair and red eyes raised his hand from the front row.
“Yes, Mr. Poe?” Professor Mellon asked with a patient smile.
“What isn’t going to work?”
“This,” the professor replied dramatically.
She picked up my hand and placed it on the fox. My first impulse was to take my hand back before the animal bit me. It bared teeth that showed bright white within its black muzzle, but no sound escaped its mouth.
“Stay calm,” Professor Mellon said in a steady tone. “Close your eyes.”
“What?” I asked.
That was completely the opposite of what I thought I should do. I had never been around an actual wild animal before, but closing my eyes while touching it didn’t exactly scream self-preservation.
“Close your eyes,” the professor urged again. “Trust me.”
There was something about her manner that reassured me. I wondered if it was the same characteristic that kept the fox from removing one of my fingers.
“Okay,” I said.
I closed my eyes, my instincts screaming for me to stay completely alert in case the animal so much as twitched an ear.
“Let down your walls,” Professor Mellon said in the same steady, quiet voice. “Let him feel your wolf.”
The sound of a few muffled laughs cut off quickly as though the teacher had glared at them. I kept my eyes closed mostly because I didn’t want to see their mocking faces and realize I was the butt of some joke they played on newcomers.
I was about to withdraw my hand when the professor whispered, “Pull inward, like you’re taking a breath, only through your fingertips.”
The statement, said so quietly only I could hear, sounded completely ridiculous.
Any more ridiculous than a high school filled with monsters?
And I was one of those monsters. I had nothing left to lose. I pulled awkwardly, imagining air running through my fingertips into my bloodstream. At first all I could feel was the beating of my heart, the whispers of mocking in my mind which echoed those around the room, and the wolf that suggested I phase and run out the closest door and back to the forest.
Then I felt it.
There was the slightest stirring, a warmth that made my fingertips tingle. I pulled in again and the tingling increased. Images flooded into my mind. A forest pushed to the forefront of my thoughts, its trees and bushes lit in the same gray shades I saw through my wolf eyes. The perspective was lower. Bushes had tunnels that became avenues and holes that promised food and security. The memories rushed past of river beds, pouncing on mice, yipping at the moon, and a warm meadow full of waving purple flowers.
All of it was cut short by a tantalizing piece of rabbit meat left in the snow beneath an evergreen branch. No other smells told of danger; nothing triggered the fox’s instincts. The winter had been harder than most. Foxes had become the target of owls and hawks since the rabbits and mice became scarce. The fox’s stomach growled. It reached out and took a tentative bite of the meat.
A circle sprang up from the snow and tightened around the animal’s neck. It leaped backwards, but the wire tightened until the fox couldn’t breathe. It struggled until the world blotted out and everything went dark.
Chapter Six
“He couldn’t breathe.” I said the words before I realized I had spoken.
Silence pressed against me, the hushed whispers now stilled.
“And?” Professor Mellon asked in a calm tone that sounded as though it masked barely-concealed excitement.
“And when he awoke, he was in a cage.” I opened my eyes and looked at her. “You took his voice.”
She shook her head, her gaze sad. “That happened when he was trapped. The methods they used were inhumane.”
“He should be free,” I told her. The sentiment was echoed by the fox so strongly I had to fight back the urge to grab him from the professor and run to the door with the forest.
“He should,” she agreed. “But he’s not healed yet.”
The fox moved his head, revealing bandages beneath his crimson fur.
“You’re healing him?” I asked in disbelief fueled by the fox’s fear. “Are you sure?”
“I’m doing my best,” Professor Mellon replied. “Can you pass that to him?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how.”
She smiled at me. “We’ll get there. For now, it’s enough that you know what you can do.” She looked past me. “And that your fellow students know you are more than just an animal to be feared.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
She gave me an understanding look and said, “You can take your seat now.”
I lowered my hand with a pang of regret. The contact vanished and I found myself looking at just a fox again. Only he wasn’t simply an animal any longer. He had feelings and fears, a life he wanted to return to, and a quest for freedom my instincts echoed from the confines of the strange school.
I slid into a seat and watched the pr
ofessor place the fox gently into one of the cages.
“Was he soft?”
I glanced at the girl to my right and was surprised to find she was talking to me. She grinned when I met her gaze. Her eyes had slit pupils like a cat’s instead of a human’s.
“His fur was soft and a bit bristly,” I replied.
The girl on her other side nudged her.
“Why are you talking to him?” she whispered.
“Because he’s cute,” the girl next to me replied.
I realized they had no idea I could hear them and had to duck my head to hide my blush.
“In that case,” her friend said. She raised her voice. “How did it feel to talk to the fox?”
I looked around and found the entire classroom watching me, including Mrs. Mellon. I wasn’t used to being the center of so much attention; at least for the moment, the attention wasn’t negative.
“Well, uh, he didn’t really speak,” I began.
“Told you,” one of the boys in the next row said. The others around him laughed.
“It took a little time for him to realize he could trust me,” I continued, ignoring the laughter. “Then he began to send me pictures, memories, I think.” I shook my head, still amazed that it had happened. “I saw the forest where he used to live as if I was there. I could smell the pine needles and the dew from the grass.” The girl next to me gave a wistful smile. I kept my gaze on her as I said, “I watched him hunt as if it was me pouncing on mice and barking at the moon.”
“Werewolf clichés,” the boy behind me said.
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face when I nodded at him. He had completely black eyes without irises or sclera; it was eerie. I wondered if he had dyed his hair purple to detract from the eyes. “Maybe they don’t belong to only werewolves.”
“Maybe,” he said. He shifted in his seat as if uncomfortable that I was talking to him directly.
“Or maybe you’re lying,” the boy behind him said.
“Mr. Fray, if you can’t say anything supportive, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” Professor Mellon said.
I turned to look at him. He was the one who had been calling out the entire time. My stomach rolled when I met his eyes and realized he was one of the yellow-eyed vampires from the lunchroom bully’s gang, Vicken’s Coven, as Alden had called them.
I hated bullies. So far, I hadn’t done anything other than accidentally scare Vicken’s sister to make myself their target. I wasn’t about to be a pushover in a new school. The fear in his eyes when I held his gaze made me rise with a bravado I faked.
“I’ll show you,” I said. I crossed to his desk.
“Now you’ve done it, Lorne,” the purple-haired boy said.
“Shut up, Jeppy,” the vampire growled.
Lorne actually cringed away from me. I could hear the bated breaths of everyone around me. Did they actually think I would phase and tear the vampire apart?
I set a hand on the vampire’s shoulder. He felt cold to the touch. He hissed and cringed even further, but I didn’t let go. I closed my eyes and brought up the memories from the fox. I didn’t know if what I was trying to do would actually work, but I had gone too far to go back now. That would give them even more to ridicule me about.
This time I pushed instead of pulled. I let out my breath and imagined the memories flowing down my arm with the breath. My fingers tingled and I felt the vampire’s shoulder heat. His hiss cut off abruptly.
I saw the meadow again, the stars catching in the branches of the trees that swayed overhead in the gentle breeze. I could smell the flowers. My ears twitched at the sound of a cricket under a bush a few feet away. I debated whether to chase it.
The memory darkened and twisted. I felt my stomach rise in my throat as I plummeted through the air. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. I glanced at my brother in the rearview mirror and saw the terror in his gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sebastian’s head hit the side window when the car slammed into the water. The memory went dark.
“What was that?”
I opened my eyes. The fear on the vampire’s face matched that of my brother’s so identically it took me a moment to remember where I was.
“N-nothing,” I replied. I dropped my hand from Lorne’s shoulder and stumbled back to my desk. I slid into the seat.
“Did he show you what the fox showed him?” the vampire next to him asked.
“I don’t know what he showed me,” Lorne replied. His voice shook.
A hand touched my shoulder, jolting me from staring blankly at my desk.
“I would recommend starting slowly until you know the limits of what you can do,” Professor Mellon told me. “It’s hard to control such things unless you practice.” The understanding on her face said she guessed at least some of what had passed from me to Lorne.
I nodded mutely.
She patted my shoulder and walked back to the front of the classroom. “Alright class, let’s review what we’ve learned about grasshopper-fairy communication.”
The sound of books opening echoed in my ears. The memory I had accidentally pushed at Lorne replayed again and again in my mind. My teeth clenched and my heart ached at the sight of Sebastian’s arms floating in the water. I didn’t notice the textbook Professor Mellon had set on my desk until movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.
I blinked and saw the folded piece of paper someone had set on the green and blue book. I picked the paper up and opened it with numb fingers.
Maybe you can show me what you showed Lorne sometime?
The note was signed Adalia.
I glanced at the girl with the cat eyes. She lifted her eyebrows in question.
I turned back to write a reply on the note, then realized I still didn’t have a pencil. Adalia slid a pen onto my desk before I could say anything.
I wrote to the sound of someone reciting a passage from the book.
“And if the fairy uses his or her compulsion correctly, the grasshopper will obey any orders, including death.”
“That’s right,” Professor Mellon said from the front of the room. “Now we can see why certain powers can have drastic consequences. What other creatures can use compulsion to control those around them?”
I don’t think you would like what you saw, I wrote. I signed it ‘Finn’ and folded it up. Adalia glanced at Professor Mellon to make sure she wasn’t watching, then took it with an eager smile.
I watched as her brows drew together. She glanced at me with a questioning look. I lifted my shoulders in apology. She nodded with an accepting but slightly disappointed expression and slid the note into her book.
“And the compulsion is even stronger if a warlock uses an item with the subject’s DNA, like a toothbrush or a piece of hair,” Professor Mellon concluded. The bell rang. She lifted her voice over the sound of chairs sliding back and books being closed to say, “Copy down paragraph four on page one seventy-five for tomorrow in both English and Fairy. I think you’ll find the translation interesting!” She ended the last sentence in a sing-song voice.
I picked up my book feeling as though I was completely in the dark.
“How do I translate something into Fairy?” I asked Adalia as I followed her out of the classroom.
She smiled as if pleased I had asked her instead of anyone else in the class. “You missed the translations at the beginning of the semester,” she explained. When we reached the hallway, she slid the bag off her shoulder and dug through it. She took out a small book with a yellow leather cover. “Here. This will help.”
Her friend, who I noticed had cat eyes also, leaned against the wall on Adalia’s other side and rolled her eyes. “Just use the translator online.”
Adalia shook her head. “You know the translation’s off, Melzie.” she chided her friend. “He’ll get screwed up that way.”
Melzie shrugged as if she couldn’t have cared less. “It’ll be faster.”
Adalia turned back to m
e with another shake of her head. She pushed the yellow book into my hand. “Translate it. Trust me. It’ll be truer to the origin.” She lowered her voice and said with a wink, “Fairy is like poetry. I think you’ll find it tantalizing.” Her teasing smile revealed pointed canines like the vampires’, only shorter. “Find me if you need any help.”
I stared after Adalia and her friend as they both made their way up the hallway. When they turned the corner out of sight, a shoulder bumped mine. I glanced over to find Alden grinning up at me.
“How’d you like Creature Languages?” he asked.
I slid the yellow book into my pocket. “Confusing,” I said, thinking of the fox and the memories I had accidentally revealed to Lorne. “Being a werewolf is more complicated than I thought.”
“What?” he asked with a chuckle. “Turning into a beast in the moonlight isn’t enough for you?”
I shook my head as I followed him down the hall. “Apparently I have a lot to learn.”
He waited as though hoping I would explain, but I didn’t feel like admitting what had happened.
“Well,” he said as the hallways emptied into the surrounding classrooms. “Being a Grim isn’t all flowers, if you know what I mean.”
I paused near the B5 door. The scent of formaldehyde that wafted underneath burned my nose. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said. I fought down the frustration I felt as I admitted, “I don’t know any of this stuff.” I waved my hand to indicate the school and my voice raised despite my efforts. “I’m jumping into the middle of a semester in a school where every class sounds like it’s in a foreign language. If anyone else tells me to recite something in Fairy, I’m afraid I’m going to hit something.”
A slight smile touched Alden’s face.
“What?” I asked, embarrassed that I had lost my cool.
He pushed his white hair out of his eyes and said, “I’m just glad I’m friends with someone who understands how frustrating it is here.” He glanced around as if to ensure we were alone. The hall had indeed cleared out. I could hear someone starting to take role in the classroom beside us. “Everyone has their group, you know? The vampires keep to their coven, the sirens have their flock. The nymphs hang out in their forest, and heck, even the merkids have their school.”
