by Marian Gray
“Welcome to Ivory, University of Magics,” she greeted us with a professional but friendly voice. “You must be the arrivals from—” Her hand lifted the clipboard to her eyes. “Virginia. That was the Roanoke tram.” The board swung down to her side as her gaze regarded us with a forced warmth. “I am Prudence Hanover, the Committee of Education vice representative here at Ivory. If you have any issues during your stay with us or are in need of assistance, don’t be afraid to speak with me. As of now, we are having all of our summer freshmen gather in the Bryn Mawr Auditorium for a small orientation. Follow this path here down to the main courtyard. The auditorium is within the school’s main building. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” Eddie returned the smile.
My hands latched onto my backpack straps as we stepped into the tunnel. Old cast iron lights bobbed and weaved across the ceiling like snakes, lighting our way under the mountain. The floor was dry, save a tiny stream that trickled down the middle of the pathway.
“Where are the other students?” I expected the campus to be buzzing.
“It’s the summer semester. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are less than two hundred of us. Once the fall semester begins and everyone returns, this place will probably become suffocating.”
“You think so?” My chest fluttered with excitement at the thought. I was eager to meet wizards and witches my age and experience life amongst them. I had spent two months with my uncle and aunt, but they lived like mundies. There were a few objects in their house that were enchanted, which they had shoved into various rooms they rarely used. Aunt Margot detested enchanted objects because they tended to get an attitude with her and quit working or fight back. The only magic practiced between the two of them was house magic: dish washing, sweeping, emptying the trash. The inventor license Uncle Hank had applied for was really a wand-crafter’s license. He claimed to enjoy woodworking and thought the name ‘Blackwood Wands’ would sell, but I never saw him studying wand lore or whittle a single item.
“Absolutely. Ivory is one of the larger wizarding universities. They never release official numbers, but you know it’s a large school when it houses all four branches of magic.”
My lungs released an agitated breath. “Shows how far behind I am. I didn’t even know there were four branches of magic.” I ducked under an array of pine roots as the tunnel spat us out onto the campus grounds. Rich green grass spread across the university grounds, hugging pathways and winding around evergreens. Above the tree tops white-dipped mountain peaks rose to prick the sky.
“That’s the main building I believe.” Eddie pointed to the left. A tall Scottish manor house hugged the side of a mountain with its peak rising higher than the gray turrets. Stone bridges crept out of its sides, wrapping around to several smaller buildings and a tower house the stood above the rest.
“It’s not at all what I expected.”
A light chuckle spilled from him. “Not the medieval castle you wanted?”
A warm pink dabbed my cheeks, and I shrugged. “No, it’s not.”
He patted my shoulder. “Fairy tales have a way of making the truth larger than it is. Ivory University is more Harvard than Merlin and King Arthur. But you still have the round things on the sides if that makes it feel more castley for you.”
“The round things?” I teased as we strolled along the flagstone sidewalk. My calves tingled from the rising incline. Every few yards steps appeared, making the steep hike manageable.
“Rooks?” Eddie shot me a goofy grin. “I don’t know what they’re called.”
As we mounted the paved square that fed into the huge manor, the magnitude of the estate overwhelmed me. A few months ago this place was unthinkable. “So this is where we spend the next five years of our lives?”
“Or perhaps in one of those?” His eyes guided me to the surrounding peaks and hills. The school spread out like a small village in the mountains.
We passed through two large wooden doors and into a grand foyer filled with rich woods and large flowing lights encased in ornate gold spheres. An ivy and ivory oriental rug crawled the length of the entrance. Its fibers were vibrant and clean as though it had been rolled out that day.
“Where do we go from here?” I glanced up. The stairs wound toward the heavens floor upon floor, circling a stained-glass ceiling.
Eddie’s eyes scanned a large corridor to our left. There were labels above each set of double doors. “The Stirling Ballroom, Conan Conference Hall, and Bryn Mawr Auditorium. That's it. The one with the open doors.”
We strolled down the corridor, passing portraits of previous university presidents. The frames were all the same size and spaced evenly. Their eyes followed us we passed, but their bodies stayed in their stationary poses. One rather large woman released a small giggle, but when I turned to her, her lips buttoned, and she stood at motionless attention.
“Are they watching us?” I whispered.
“I think so, but they’re rather determined to keep up the facade of being normal paintings.” Eddie whipped his head to the side to catch them in the act, but once again they stiffened in a heart beat.
“This place gives me a weird feeling.”
“Me too. Nothing’s out of place, but everything feels out of place.”
“Like a haunted mansion,” I mumbled as an afterthought. “Do ghosts exist in the wizarding world?”
Eddie’s brow scrunched. “No. Wizards exist in the wizarding world.”
“You’re so funny.” I rolled my eyes.
The Bryn Mawr Auditorium was already half full when we entered. “That looks like a bit more than two hundred students.” Dark panelling covered the walls, serving as the back drop for long tapestries.
Eddie shrugged. “I guess I know little more than you do. Want to sit over there?” He pointed to a row of seats that were loosely populated.
I led us down the polished oak wood steps and into the designated row. Dark green upholstery covered each seat. The cushions were soft and welcoming. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”
“Not long at all, apparently.”
A woman strut onto the stage in a bright red dress. When she reached the podium, she stopped and turned to face us.
She raised her wand with a poised hand and gave it a twirl. The thick skin along her wrist bent and wrinkled from the movement as her lips mumbled something inaudible from my seat. A smile graced her peach lips as she finished the motion and held the tip of the wooden wand just an inch from her mouth. “Can everyone hear me clearly?” Her prim voice resonated right beside me. The delicate tones were clear as day to my ears, despite sitting twenty rows from the stage. “You’d think after two decades of this I’d have gained some confidence in this spell.” A soft laughter rose from the large auditorium. “I want to welcome all of you to Ivory, University of Magics.” Her face and tone glowed with enthusiasm. “My name is Ailis Banach, and I have the esteemed privilege of calling myself president of these campus grounds. In 1616, my forefather founded this noble university as a place of scholarly achievement for wizards and witches in the new world. For four centuries, we have educated and helped procure the minds of many successful alchemists, casters, oracles, and augmenters. Some of whom have sat just as you do now—travel weary but wrapped in curiosity; still uncertain whether this is all a dream or a fantastical hallucination.” She paused, allowing her eyes to the scan the room and take in the many young faces of the audience. “I hope you all have the opportunity to enjoy and experience the wonder that is tied to learning magic; I hope you fall in love with its mysteries and intricacies; but most of all, I hope it opens doors for you that you never knew existed. The marvel that lies within these walls is not something that will be handed to you but something you will have to seek out on your own. Thank you for listening and welcome to Ivory University.”
An inspired applause beat out from the crowd as President Banach left the wooden pulpit. A pot-bellied man with his dark hair, mustache, and eyebrows gre
ased in their appropriate directions strutted to the center of the stage, ignoring the podium. He preformed the same spell as President Banach to magnify his voice, yet his movements were much more strict and economic. He held his wand at an angle, resting his hand on the top of his stomach. “Good evening students. I am Cecil Greaves, the Chamber’s Committee of Education representative stationed here at Ivory. As such, I am committed to ensuring all your educational needs are met, and that the university operates to the high standards set forth by the Chamber. I always like to introduce myself when new students arrive, so you all may become familiar with my face and know that my door is always open should you have any concerns throughout your student career here. I am committed to alleviating any predicaments you may find yourselves in whether it be with a professor or the university itself. As such, I believe it appropriate for you to view me more in the light of an advocate rather than prosecutor.” He cleared his throat as he flattened is shiny mustache with forefinger and thumb. “So, on behalf of the International Chamber of Magical Affairs, welcome to Ivory University.” Mr. Greaves tucked his wand in his jacket pocket and applauded his own speech with more energy than any other person in the room.
“That was interesting,” Eddie commented. His voice low, meant only for my ear.
I pressed my lips together, unsure what to make of it. “The president seems nice.”
“She was president when my dad attended the school. He always described her as a pleasant hard-ass.”
Perhaps behind her rosy disposition there existed a strict mentor, but it hid itself well. “And what do you know of Mr. Greaves?”
Eddie shrugged. “Never heard of him.”
“What?” A girl with long dark curls turned around in her seat. “You two don’t know who Cecil Greaves is?” Disbelief highlighted her words along with the hint of an Italian accent.
Eddie and I shook our heads.
“He’s the little fat man in all the pictures,” the girl whispered. “His pay grade is high enough to get him into the fancy events but too low to make him a person of importance.”
“What pictures?” Eddie leaned forward.
Long lips raveled into a condescending smile. “You don’t read the Emporium, do you?”
Eddie's arms crossed against his chest. “Nobody should—”
“No worries,” the girl interrupted, “I know not many people our age find it important to keep up with what’s going on in the world. Greaves just so happens to be an inconsequential character photographed with the right people at the right time—celebrities, politicians, athletes—big name, he’s there.”
“He sounds rather opportunistic,” I commented.
“He is.” She nodded. “He used to be stationed somewhere in the UK, but once Elijah Harlow and Ryan Rosewall became the stars of university holmgang, guess who put in for a transfer to Ivory?” She rolled her umber eyes. “This will be his second year here.”
“What?” The name caught my attention. “Elijah Harlow goes to Ivory?”
She shot me a knowing grin. “You think he’s cute? He’s definitely the attractive one out of the duo. I’m not even a fan of holmgang, but I read the sports articles in the Emporium because of him. There’s usually something about Eli every week or two.”
Eddie’s face scrunched and lips flattened. “Every week or two? I doubt every week or two. That’s excessive. Nobody’s that interesting.”
She shrugged. “You’re the one who doesn’t read the paper, but you’re going to tell me what articles are in it?”
“I’m just saying,” he bleated in defense. “Reporting on anyone every week or two is excessive.”
“Sure it is. But it must be profitable otherwise they wouldn’t do it.” Her tanned hand reached over the seat’s and extended in his direction. “The name’s Sara Panzerella by the way.”
“Eddie Bowman.” He greeted her with a strong grip before her hand shifted over to me.
The heat from her palm was like fire against my skin. “Kim Blackwood.”
Her eyes squinted. “Blackwood? Like from the Blackwood family?”
“Yes,” I answered in the affirmative, yet I didn’t know what I was confirming in her mind. My uncle had only told me that the family was well-known in the magical community but not what for.
Eddie did a double take. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a Blackwood?”
“You’ve heard of my family? I thought you lived ‘off grid’.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I’m uneducated.”
My curiosity deepened. “I just didn’t think it was important is all.” Eddie and Sara shared a bewildered look as though my comment were ridiculous.
“At least she’s not pretentious about it,” Sara added.
Chapter Nine
My first class was held in the tower house that sat upon the tallest mountain. The ascension was a steep hike through rock and pine. Once inside the regal tower, four different stairwells greeted me. The room listed on my class schedule was 3s02r. The first flight of stairs led me to a grouping of doors that swirled into existence once my foot touched the landing. Their room numbers weren’t listed. The second staircase somehow led me back to the floor that I was already on. But the third set of steps took me to several doors that all began with ‘3s’. As I read their room numbers, the system dawned on me. 3s02r was the third staircase and second room.
The classroom was plain compared to the rest of the school. Slender windows poked into white stucco walls. Six long tables ran the width of the room, facing a green chalkboard. I slid into the fourth row, joining the other forty students in the room.
The professor glided in not long after I sat. She swept her fingertips across the chalkboard, and Chinese characters appeared in sharp white lines. Beneath them the name ‘Michelle Soh’ blossomed in long cursive strokes.
Professor Soh had one of the most severe stares I had ever witnessed, yet her cheeks, forehead, and mouth were absent of emotion. The stern regard resided in her eyes. Judgment, disgust, and condescension washed over the small lecture hall. “I assume few of you are familiar with the high art of oracular magic; therefore, we will begin with the basics. I do not expect many of you to be successful.” Her feet took a few steps, black shoes peeked out from underneath her bright red silk dress while her hands remained hidden in the long drapes of sleeves. “Not many are gifted in this branch of magic, and only the gifted are capable.”
Her self-righteous air should have sickened me but in truth, it was bewitching. The combination of her small scarlet-painted pout, tight-wrapped bun, and frame-fitting cheongsam transformed her into a piece of art when saddled alongside her haughty attitude. Her every movement was small and gentle in nature, while her eyes were lit with flames.
“There are three main areas of study within oracular magic: astrology, numerology, and divination. Over the next ten weeks, we will cover each of these in order for you to be on level with your fall peers.”
My next class was easier to locate. The Augmentation Department spread across three conjoined buildings. Each carried a large lamp above its door that emitted an amber light. Inside, the halls were enriched with sheer drapes and metallic wall hangings that had been cast into starlike shapes.
When I found the classroom, relief drizzled from my head to my toes. Eddie waved at me, signaling for me to join him.
“It' s so nice to see a familiar face,” I commented as I sat beside him. “My first class was awkward and lonely.”
“What class did you have?”
“Oracular with Professor Soh. Have you met her yet?”
“No. I have oracular at the end of the day.”
“Thank your lucky stars.”
“Good morning students.” The professor greeted us with a raspy voice. Her hazelnut complexion brightened the mustard yellow tunic that hung from her shoulders. Tight leather pants wrapped around her legs and fed into her heels. “Quiet please.” Her voice cut. “My name is Zeynep Ozal. I am originally from Ankara, Tur
key—there I specialized in sultanic enchanting before transferring to Ivory. I’ve only been teaching for a few years, but so far I have come to enjoy my time with you all. I’m a long way from home, but the campus has been overwhelmingly welcoming.”
“I don’t think any sane man would turn her away,” Eddie muttered to me.
I rolled my eyes at him.
“Even though the university expects us to run the summer courses a little more akin to your high school education,” Professor Ozal began. Her long legs carried her back and forth, pacing, “I don’t believe that’s very beneficial. I’ve come to learn that treating you all as adults with adult expectations produces more favorable results. Not to mention augmentation is more of an active branch of magic and less passive. Therefore, we will spend two and a half weeks on each subsection: charms, transfiguration, spell-crafting, and enchanting—and follow up each topic with a practical exam. Quizzes will be held early in the unit, because the sooner you memorize the information, the more time we have to practice and make sure you are accurately casting.” A long, straight ponytail sat still down the length of her back as her honey eyes searched the classroom. Her gaze was uncomfortable.
“Kim!” The girl with the black hair from the auditorium waved at me. “Sit here.”
I sent Sara a polite smile as I paced through the rows and over to her. “How was your weekend?” I hadn’t seen her since our first day on campus.
“It was interesting. My wardrobe is enchanted, and unfortunately, we have different tastes in style—so getting ready in the morning can be difficult.”
I sat down in the chair beside her. "My blinds like to close and open on their own, and they get a kick out of denying me privacy."
“Please hurry in, find a seat.” I recognized the woman who stood at the front of the class. Today, however, she didn’t appear particularly magical. Wrapped in a mauve skirt and white blouse with oxfords upon her feet, she seemed more like a businesswoman than a witch. “I know the first day of the summer semester is always difficult. But we do that on purpose. We don’t want you all to have too much time between arrival and the fall semester to fret and become anxious. Starting next year, all universities will be required to follow a similar summer semester per revised Chamber policy.” She smiled revealing a row of straight and narrow teeth. “Which is what we will be discussing here for the next two and a half months.” Her shoes tapped against the polished wood floor as they carried her to the middle of the chalkboard. “I am Prudence Hanover, vice representative from the Committee of Education, but you all may simply call me Professor Hanover.” She lifted her pale wand and touched the clean green chalkboard behind her. The white chalk lifted from the board tray and wrote out her name in bubbly script.
