Hawthorn Academy- Year Two

by D. R. Perry

  "I only saw Dylan." How was I supposed to help Professor Luciano? And why was he under suspicion?

  What about that stained glass mural? Fire with poison ice? Am I ringing a bell?

  My professor had taught me to sense magic as an extramagus as though he'd done it himself. Great-Uncle Noah hadn't gotten his second element until long after graduation, in the Coast Guard. After Filberto Luciano was back in Italy, writing letters overseas. My eyes widened.

  "I certainly didn't see Professor Luciano in there. He wasn't in the lobby, not before or after Familiar Bonding. Professor DeBeer must have been mistaken."

  "How dare you?" She whirled, staring daggers at me. "Call in a different student, sir. Miss Morgenstern's got a natural bias."

  I knew what she meant but refused to disclose my revelation about the man who in kinder times might have been my great uncle-in-law.

  "Which was what you said earlier about my son, Professor DeBeer."

  Block her throw.

  "The lobby was packed. There should be lots of students to ask."

  Not like that. With Seth. But don't rat your friends out.

  "Another familiar was poisoned a month later." Headmaster Hawkins raised an eyebrow. "Was Professor Luciano there for that?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  "Where did it happen, then?"

  These waters are shark-infested. Tread them carefully.

  "I'm not sure. You'd have to ask Faith. I wasn't with her when it happened."

  "Then how do you know he wasn't with her?"

  Don't lie, just skirt the truth. It's the only way to protect them all.

  "The same way I knew Seth was in trouble. Something I tried after a lot of research."

  Both true. Now digress.

  "I'm an extramagus. We have this quirk, sort of. To sense, like, disturbances in the Force."

  Good job.

  "Is that true? Can extramagi trace the flow of magic?"

  "Yes, Headmaster." Professor Luciano nodded. "Like tanuki trace luck, though the ability to manipulate it is limited to their particular elements. And of course, their coincidental drawback."

  He meant the limitation in power. Every extramagus was supposed to have one. Uncle Richard's was the only one I'd heard about in detail. It was geographic, limiting everything but his initial element of fire to Rhode Island.

  "Thank the gods for those." Professor DeBeer traced a sigil I couldn't identify in the air.

  "Have you discovered your drawback yet, Miss Morgenstern?"

  "No, but I haven't tried."

  "Noted." Headmaster Hawkins waved his hand at the door. "Miss Morgenstern, Professor Luciano. You're both free to go. I've got more to discuss with Professor DeBeer, however."

  "This isn't over, Lucy." Susan DeBeer glared. "We'll find out who's been inappropriate with students eventually, and you're not off my radar yet."

  I opened the door for my teacher and closed it behind him, too. He looked wearier than before but not as weighed down.

  "What did she mean, inappropriate with students?" I led him to the other end of the short hallway, away from the door. "If it's about the dance, I'll go in there and explain it to her."

  "There was an anonymous tip." He leaned against the column I'd used to pivot with earlier.

  "And of course, she blames the ex—" I cleared my throat. "Er, ex-boyfriend of my great-uncle first."

  "Ah." He nodded. "You understand."

  "Yeah, but why didn't you just tell me?" I scratched my head, a spot behind my left ear. It stung like a slice of jalapeno except not on the tongue.

  "Didn't I?" He raised an eyebrow.

  "I'm not talking about Noah the elder." The stinging sensation intensified like angry bees.

  "Neither am I, but I can't directly mention the other thing."

  "Why?" I reached up again. The stinging buzz ramped up, along with a strange whine in my ear.

  "Sealed records."

  The bottom dropped out of my world, and I toppled. The professor wasn't quick enough to catch me. The last thing I remembered for a while was concern creasing his face and Ember's frantic shriek.

  I woke in the infirmary with Ember's upside-down head before me as she peered into my face.

  "Peep?"

  "Yeah, I'm awake." I sighed, turning my head to look around. Hal was in the next bed for his infusion, Faith by his side.

  "What are you in for?" Hal asked. "Never mind. We were here when they brought you, so we know."

  "I don't."

  "You collapsed." Faith picked a paper cup with a lid and a straw off my bedside table and handed it to me. "Dehydration, stress, and insufficient caloric intake. Don't get up, you're on an IV."

  "What about Professor Luciano? Is he okay?" I peered at the cup, unable to determine its contents.

  "Besides worrying about you, he's fine." Hal pointed at the beverage. "It's banana berry. Jonah brought it; he says it's full of potassium."

  "Jonah?" I took a sip. It felt like heaven and tasted like manna from that neighborhood too. I drank more. "Noah's boyfriend? Jonah Arnold?"

  "Yeah." Faith answered. "Noah was with him, rolling his eyes and everything. Jonah insisted it was Noah's idea."

  "No way." I blinked.

  "Yeah." Hal grinned. "He actually got Noah to admit he cares."

  "Wow. Sounds familiar."

  Hal smiled like a window full of sunbeams while Faith blushed.

  "We've got the Craft Expo, then Spirit Week with all the school monarch business and games in less than a month." Faith tapped the cup, then pointed at me. "Drink up, and keep a food journal or something. Don't make me come off reserves and steal your glory."

  "Okay."

  "I'd love to tell you not to be a stranger, Aliyah." Hal grinned. "But I don't want you visiting during infusion time like this again. Just walk in like everyone else."

  We all had a laugh at that. I was good to go at about the same time they were, so we left together. The cafeteria was closed, so I got another smoothie and some croissants at the cafe and ate them in my room. Grace was out, where I didn't know. Popularity kept her busy.

  I didn't wait up for my roommate. After brushing my teeth and getting into PJs, I remembered what the professor had said right before I passed out.

  Sealed records. Dorian had mentioned those in his story. The unidentified male conspirator had mentioned them also, which lined up with Tempe's secret boyfriend. Was this a clue that could reveal his identity?

  I got into bed. Just before dropping off to sleep, I thought I had it, but when my eyes closed, all I dreamed of was Bishop's Row, accompanied by the sound of regulation whistles.

  The rest of January flew by. I had to share my extra time in the gym with each school's cheer squad. I hadn't thought of them since the beginning of the year, which seemed like it had been before the Common Era, but they persisted, cranking music and practicing routines to commands shouted by their coaches.

  The Hawthorn group was Coach Chen's project. He'd handed the reins of captain over to Logan Pierce, who had way more dancing talent than I'd imagined. The twins, Kitty, Grace, and Arick filled out the rest of the team. The second day they practiced during my track time, Alex showed up. Coach Chen and Logan spent a good twenty minutes in conversation I couldn't hear, and he ended up on the squad.

  Messing’s faculty coach was a willowy brunette woman with a pixie by her side, which meant she was a psychic summoner and that she knew performance art since pixies loved song and dance. The student captain was Jacinta, a memory psychic cousin of Azrael's. I didn’t know why she passed wristbands to each squad member, but when they performed their routine for the first time at levels approaching perfect, I understood. She'd impressed the routine into the bands, likely with her coach’s help.

  Gallows Hill blew me away. I stopped running a few times just to watch them. Cadence was the captain, and instead of dancing, she'd leaned heavily into gymnastics. Her squad of shifters and changelings practiced backflips and danced on t
heir hands, tossing each other into the air on multiple occasions. Stephanie Hawkins was technically coaching, but she left everything to Cadence, who clearly knew her squad's abilities.

  Logan burned the candle at both ends. He had to captain the cheer squad but also finish his paintings for the Craft Expo, which came first. I checked on him, eventually settling into a routine of getting smoothies between meals.

  “Something’s got to give.” Logan sighed. “I can’t do everything.”

  “Grace said something like that before break.” I twirled the straw in my banana berry smoothie. “Why not delegate? Nobody can do your artwork for you, but how about appointing a lieutenant for the cheer squad?”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” He perked up. “They all know the routine now. If someone could supervise them running through it, I could spend some extra time in the Creatives room. But who?”

  “How about Kitty? She’s got experience keeping people on track, what with Truncheons and Flagons every week.”

  “I’ll ask her. Thanks!”

  After that, I saw less of Logan in the gym at odd hours, and he seemed more content. He finished all three of his paintings in time for the Expo. It was held in the gym, so I let Ember fly around all she wanted.

  We’d all been encouraged to dress business casual or better. Logan chose his navy-blue suit, the one Grace had made, and he told everyone who his designer was, including the student visitors and the judges who came by to view his work. I heard it all, sitting with my brick design kiln-fired mugs at the next table.

  “You’re being too nice,” Alex interrupted. “Stop it.”

  “It’s true, though.” Logan shrugged.

  “Don’t promote yourself, then.” Alex sauntered off. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Maybe he’s right.” I sighed. “I don’t like admitting that, but this expo is about showing your own work.”

  “I’m not going to stop saying nice things that are true about my friends just because there are judges, Aliyah.”

  “I get it.”

  After that, I let Logan be himself, but I took a page out of his book and talked his paintings up to anyone who even glanced at my pottery. Maybe I was biased because one depicted Ember stuck in my hair. Even though Logan hadn’t been there when it happened, he’d loved the story enough to spend weeks painting his vision of it.

  Everybody expected the press to be there. We’d been given release forms, with one specific publication listed: the Extrahuman Examiner, the social paper Cadence’s mother worked for. She clicked around the room on heels so high and spindly they reminded me of church spires, taking notes and pictures with a MagPad, the only device guaranteed to work in the Under and its adjacent places.

  She stopped in front of Logan’s table, too far away for him to make conversation. I watched her tapping furiously on the screen, pausing between sentences like she was conversing with someone else. In the end, she didn’t talk to Logan. Or me, either.

  “That’s weird.” I scratched my head.

  “Doris said the same thing.” Logan reached down to pat her.

  “Peep!” Ember darted through the air, making a figure eight above my head before landing on my table, where she hopped up and down, peeping excitedly at Logan.

  “Oh!” He blinked. “Really, Ember?”

  Before I could ask what just happened, a man approached the table. He wore his tan tweed suit like an afterthought, but the smile on his face as he gazed at Logan’s work was genuine.

  “Hello!” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jim Howard from the Boston Globe. Mrs. DelMar sent me.”

  “Logan Pierce.” They shook. “Are you a judge?”

  “I edit the extrahuman Interest section. Every year, we do a series on student art in Massachusetts, and I’d like to interview you about those paintings if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course! I mean, I don’t mind at all.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on your table, Logan.” I grinned.

  Logan led Mr. Howard toward the café, where they ordered coffee and sat down. He ended up missing the judges. By the time he returned, they’d tallied the scores, and Headmaster Hawkins was ready to make the announcement.

  Even though no other artist had gotten press attention, Logan placed third. He stayed up at the podium to wait for the other winners and cheered each of them. Grace came in second with her fashion collection, which didn’t surprise me. Neither did the first place winner, Azrael Ambersmith.

  I had a look after the fact at his chess set, crafted from myriad found items and upcycled materials. It followed the traditional faerie division of Seelie and Unseelie, facing each other across the board. Most chess sets along a fae theme didn’t include any other extrahumans, but Azrael’s was diverse. Surprising to many, but not me, who’d known him for so long.

  His pawns were shifters; wolves on the Unseelie side faced lions across the board. The rooks were magi, representing fire on the Seelie side across from ice. Knights were familiars, golden dragonets countering Unseelie jet gryphons. Clairvoyant bishops carried satchels and brandished cards at Unseelie telekinetics with projectiles hovering over their heads.

  The monarchs took my breath away. The Seelie king had golden hair, with eyes glancing to one side. His queen’s hair was longer and ruddy, and she faced the board with grim determination. I had no idea who’d inspired Azrael, but they were clearly patterned after people he knew.

  I recognized the Unseelie king immediately, though I wasn’t sure how Azrael had managed to capture both love and pain on such a small face. I put a hand over my chest, blinking back tears.

  “It’s Hal.”

  “And of course his queen is Faith,” Grace murmured as she pointed at the figure, which wore the dress she’d made for our friend.

  “Why?”

  “Az wanted to give them a tribute after he heard nobody was doing stained glass this year.”

  “How?” I sniffled. “He doesn’t go around talking about it.”

  “That’s my fault,” Grace said. “I couldn’t help it, Aliyah. I told Azrael about Hal’s illness back in October.”

  “No, I understand.” I hugged her. “You really care about him, huh?”

  “We’ve got to keep fighting.” She sniffled, arms still around me. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

  “It does. The whole reason we’re working so hard is so everyone can be who they are and follow their hearts, including you.”

  “You’re too nice.” She pulled back, looking me in the eye.

  Déjà vu.

  “Promise me you’ll be kind to yourself. And soon, Grace.”

  “When I’m sure we’re winning, yeah.”

  We dropped our arms, letting go. After that, I worked even harder.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Noah came out to run during the last week of January. It reminded me of how we used to circle Salem Commons through middle school, with one exception: he smiled almost constantly. I was sure Jonah's presence on the bleachers had something to do with it.

  My brother's vampire boyfriend was on Messing's team, but that didn't stop him from cheering us on and supplying us with water when we needed it. He sat with Hal, who'd taken to timing us.

  "Why aren't you training?" I asked him between laps.

  "I don't need to do cardio anymore." He grinned.

  "So why help the competition?" I raised an eyebrow.

  "I don't see it that way. Extramurals are about coming together and recognizing how we're all awesome."

  "I feel the same," Hal added. "We're stronger together."

  "Thanks for the smoothie, by the way."

  "Glad to help. Before this happened, I trained too hard a few times myself."

  "I'm glad you and Noah found each other, Jonah."

  "I'm a lucky guy. My boyfriend’s amazing, and his sister approves."

  "You've got one up on Hal." Faith strode over. "And I hear you on the amazing boyfriend thing. I might have to fight you if you say Noah's the bes
t, though."

  "We can agree to disagree," Jonah replied. "Until one of them ends up as Hawthorn's Spirit Week Monarch."

  We all had a laugh.

  Then Faith joined our supplemental track runs.

  I tried to ignore the Monarch business, which wasn't easy with Grace as my roommate. She was campaigning for one of the two Hawthorn crowns, of course.

  "We can't let Tempe win this."

  "After all the times we thwarted her socially, do you even think she has a chance?"

  "I wouldn't put it past her to get votes by coercion."

  I thought about Professor Luciano's sealed record and had to agree. She had access to reputation-damaging information through her conspirator. Dorian was supposed to be investigating the secret boyfriend, and I approached him that day at lunch and cut right to the chase.

  "Have you found anything in Coach Pickman's files? About you-know-who’s boyfriend?"

  "Nobody seems likely, last time I checked."

  "When was that, Dorian."

  "December." He winced. "Sorry. I'm not sure whether you feel this, but something's been off since we came back."

  "I have. It's distracting, but we can't drop the ball. If we do, the abusive bigot will terrorize everyone."

  "Yeah, I know, but we've defeated her pretty soundly on all fronts. I'm not sure what more we can do."

  "Grace's latest thing is making sure she doesn't get a Monarch crown."

  "That's easy."

  "How? When Grace is the only major candidate, the second crown could go to anyone."

  "You make Alex Onassis a poster child."

  "Huh?"

  "She pretty much brutalized the poor kid, and her entire year knows it. They're scared of her, so we need to either make them brave or humiliate her. Which do you want?"

  "Bravery." I shook my head. "She's the horrible one, so we go high."

  "We remind them that Alex Onassis survived her bullshit."

  "He'll never admit weakness, not even to say he came through it alive."