HUSH, Ivy: The Arcane Academy

by Kirah Nyx

  “Hey, you!” shouted Ivy, scrambling over to him.

  Grinning deviously, River folded his arms over his chest and patiently assessed her. The two Fae boys with him whispered to each other, clearly discussing Ivy. “What can I do for you, Vampire?”

  “You can tell me where Felix is,” she sniffed, her nose bluer than River’s hair. “You had combat class with him this morning, right? Do you know where he went after?”

  Cocking his head to the side, River chuckled lightly. “You’re hoping he will magic your blues away?”

  The Fae with him roared with laughter. Ivy sighed. “Yeah, good one. Tell me where is.”

  “Last time I saw him, he was loitering around the second floor,” said River, not unkindly. “Near the lavatories.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ivy made to leave, but River called out after her. “Why don’t you remove the magic yourself?”

  “I can’t,” she said, eyeing at him over her shoulder. “I don’t have any Fae magic on me at the moment.”

  “You’re late to the party,” he smirked. “Most Vampires have been draining our magic from the school grounds all morning. There are dozens of them down at the grottos as we speak. You best be careful.”

  Ivy nodded before she sprinted away to find Felix. She didn’t have long before the magic took root in her skin and hair. And, while River had pointed her in the right direction, Ivy knew that he could reverse the magic himself. Yet, he didn’t. Even the kind Fae were wicked that way.

  Ivy found Felix in the very spot River had said. Felix, Samael and Noah Starlight lurked outside of the lavatory, stealing Fae magic from the singing flowers on a shelf.

  Felix caught her scent and glanced down the corridor. It was then that she remembered they were in a fight-phase of their volatile relationship.

  Felix stepped back from the shelf and faced her. “Why is it that you are covered in some foreign substance every time I see you?”

  Samael and Noah traced his gaze, and Noah made no attempt to stop the guffaw of laughter that rumbled through him.

  Samael remained indifferent, as usual.

  “Felix,” she hastily pleaded. “Pretty please, with pixies on top, reverse this.” Her navy hands gestured to the powder varnishing her entire body. “I’ll do anyth—”

  Swiftly, Felix closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her sapphire hair. As the magic was on her, a Vampire, Felix couldn’t drain it, but he could push it out. It trickled down her body like wax down a candle, and pooled onto the red runner rug beneath them.

  “Who did this to you?” he asked, overpowering the magic.

  “Harriot,” she mumbled, feeling his stolen magic rain down over her. “I smeared blood on her back yesterday. She got me back.”

  Blue stained the carpet in a circular puddle. Not a drop remained on her body. Both she and Felix stepped out of the pool and watched it seep into the fabric of the rug.

  “I’ll sort it out,” said Felix, pinching her ivory nose.

  Suspiciously, Ivy narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s the price?”

  “Nothing,” he said, shrugging.

  Ivy hummed sceptically.

  “Honestly,” laughed Felix. “I don’t like anyone else messing with you. That’s my job.”

  “Great,” she beamed, turning her back on him. As she pranced down the corridor, she called out over her shoulder, “Thanks a bunch, butt-face!”

  The second she entered the Assembly Hall, a bright burst of brilliant ambiance enveloped her.

  Circular metal tables, and their attached metal benches, littered the area. The tables were covered in colourful mounds of foods for all other species but the Vampires, who fed on blood and hearts. The splendid scent of blood wafted in the air, mingled with the fresh aroma of fruits and juices, toasts and jams, yoghurts and chocolate milks.

  Cloaked Videer Knights loitered between the pot plants, watching the students interact with one another. The teachers and Principal ate at the only square table in the room, positioned in the centre, surrounded by the boisterous and excited students.

  Ivy joined Addie and Penny at their table.

  “You’re cutting it close,” observed Addie as Ivy dropped onto the bench. “Breakfast is almost over.”

  “But I made it, didn’t I?” retorted Ivy, pouring herself a generous serving of espresso blood.

  “I told you,” said Addie to Penny. “She sleeps almost as much as the Fae.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes and sipped the warm blood. Penny said, “You missed the announcement.”

  Ivy spoke into her mug. “What announcement?”

  “The Sanatorium in the Apricot Alps was raided,” she explained.

  “By …?”

  “Shifters,” said Addie gravely. “At least a dozen of them attacked the Sanatorium. Killed the Shaman and Knights.”

  Horror swarmed in her white eyes as she gaped at Addie. “How … How did that many of them get in?”

  “That,” said Addie bitterly, “is a good question. It’s not as if there was only one Shifter slipping through the glittergates. There were too many of them to enter unnoticed. They must’ve had help.”

  “Why did they attack?”

  “Why do they do any of the dreadful things they do?” Addie placed her cup on the table. “All that the authorities know right now is that a patient was kidnapped. Canyon Clover, they said. He’s a Vampire, like Laundelle. Whether he was taken as a hostage or leverage …” Addie finished with a light shrug.

  “Something needs to be done,” said Penny. “They’re attacking more often, and nothing has changed—”

  A wretched croak tore through the Assembly Hall. The chatter softened as everyone fell silent and looked around for the source of the odd noise.

  Ivy’s gaze locked onto Harriet Rosado. Her body trembled on the bench, two tables down. Ivy cringed as Harriet released another dry retch. Her body heaved, her head lurched forward, and a stream of stomach bile poured from her lips. The vomit splashed onto the table as her friends scrambled back.

  Ivy watched in disgusted fascination, like every other person in the Assembly Hall. “Yuck,” she whispered, repressing a shudder.

  Harriet, bowed over the table, clutched her churning tummy and wheezed. But it wasn’t over for her yet. The stomach pile blackened and hardened; stray strands of what appeared to be straw seeped out of her open mouth. Each black strand was coated in slime, either from her stomach or magic, Ivy didn’t know. Tremors rippled down Harriet’s back as she violently jerked and expelled an object that others retching themselves.

  Even Ivy grimaced and shuddered at the sight.

  A giant hairball plopped onto the table from Harriet’s soaked lips, dripping stomach acid and black sludge.

  Shivering in disgust, Ivy turned her face away from the grotesque scene. Broken bursts of laughter rippled over the students. Some erupted into outright laughing fits. The teachers merely observed and continued to eat. Ivy, however, cringed from the sound.

  But, as she looked away, she noticed a dispersing trail of black smoke, leading from under Harriet’s seat to the entrance of the Hall.

  Ivy looked up at Harriet again.

  The hag delicately pulled ropes of her from her mouth. Twisting in her seat, Ivy’s gaze traced the vapour to the grand double doors.

  Leaning against the door frame, Felix smiled as he admired his handiwork—Harriet pulling never-ending strands of hair from her throat. Slowly, his eyes swerved to Ivy, and locked onto her questioning gaze.

  He winked smugly, turned, and left.

  Ivy snatched her satchel and darted out of the Hall after Felix, leaving Addie and Penny to giggle at Harriet.

  Ivy caught up with Felix on the first-floor landing.

  “Hey!” she hollered, taking two steps at a time. “Wait up!”

  Felix waited patiently, hands in his pockets, and stifled a yawn. “Enjoy the show?”

  “Yeah,” she said before she shook her head and frowned. �
��I mean, no … It was a bit extreme.”

  “Extreme?” he echoed, baffled. “What is this strange word you use? I do not know the meaning of it.”

  Rolling her eyes, Ivy sighed. “Thanks for sticking up for me. I appreciate it, and, yeah, she deserved that, but … I’ve only ever seen that magic once before, and it was a Fae who cast it. Where did you get enough magic to do that?”

  “Around,” he replied, glancing at the walls and staircases. “Fae magic is everywhere. It’s in the curtains, the rugs that pull out from under your feet, the shelves that dance around every day. You should drain some before it’s all gone.”

  “No, thanks,” she said snootily. “I’m not in the business of stealing Fae magic.”

  Felix threw his head back and barked a derisive laugh. “Not in the business? You’re a Vampire, Ivy. It’s your right to take their magic.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she snipped. “Just because you can take something, doesn’t mean you should. What do you even need that much magic for anyways?”

  Felix pinched her nose and smirked. She whacked his hand away. “Nosy, nosy,” he said before he disappeared up the second flight of stairs.

  The brass bell in the tower clanged out. The near-deafening sound vibrated off the walls.

  Ivy groaned and spun on her heels.

  She had a meeting with her mentor.

  The crooked cellar stairs, made of rough and uneven slabs of stone, led to the basements. Not many classes took place down in the cellar, but all teachers had their offices down there, and the sickbay was somewhere in the maze. It made for a spooky labyrinth of hallways and dead ends, Ivy realised as she jogged down a dim, narrow passageway. An alien sensation twisted in her gut as she scrambled onto a connected corridor. It was so strange, she mused, for a part of the bustling Academy to be so … abandoned. That’s how it felt, at least. Abandoned and desolate, void of any tardy students and proudly marching teachers.

  Picking up the pace, Ivy broke out into a run as her gaze raked over the doors she passed. Already, she was late—wholly her fault, considering she’d indulged in a quick toilet trip after the bell had rung. That time of the month, and all. You know how it is.

  Long pale hair whipped as she puckered her lips in annoyance, hurriedly veering left onto an attached corridor—

  Ivy was knocked off her feet. With a thud, she landed on the stone ground in a heap. Her body thumped loudly upon impact, and books spilled out of her bag.

  “Ow,” she groaned, groggily sitting up.

  As she he rubbed her head, her white eyes slewed up at the solid object she had collided with.

  A striking tanned man stood in front of her, his head tilted to the side curiously and a smirk on his lips as he observed her with clear amusement. Shadows showed on his cheeks, above his chiselled jaw.

  Tight-fitted combat attire hugged his body, and weapons were strapped to his thighs and waist. A sword strap ran diagonally over his defined chest, a belt hung loosely on his hips with various types of daggers secured within it, smooth and jagged, long and short.

  Immediately, she recognised him to be the Videer she’d run into at the marketplace.

  He smirked down at her, his right hand gently clasped onto the handle of a forked dagger dangling from his belt.

  “Are you always this clumsy?” he asked silkily. “Or is this your way of flirting with me?”

  Ivy simply gawked up at the student Knight. Her narrowed eyes smouldered with outrage and bafflement. Videer weren’t exactly known for their humour, or talkative nature.

  Additionally, he had failed to help her gather her belongings, which caused her white eyes to almost glow with indignation. He wasn’t much of a gentleman, she decided.

  Ivy snatched her textbooks and fountain pens and rammed them aggressively into her bag. Quickly scrambling to her feet, she swung her bag strap over her shoulder and hmphed haughtily. Her upturned nose raised in the air as she barged by the Videer. As she stomped down the corridor, the sound of his light chuckle reached her.

  Glancing over her shoulder to scowl pointedly at him, Ivy faltered. He was no longer there. She scowled at the spot he had stood in moments before. A pensive hum shook her vocal cords as she journeyed further into the labyrinth of corridors.

  The classroom door was already open when she arrived, so she slinked through the gap stealthily and eyed the room before making her presence known. The coach sat on the corner of the only table in the otherwise empty classroom, reading a folded copy of the Chronicle, and a steaming Moscow mule mug of plain old blood was placed beside him.

  “You’re late,” Coach Aldon said without taking his eyes off the newspaper.

  “Sorry, Coach,” Ivy mumbled, and walked into the classroom. “I got lost.”

  “I didn’t ask for an excuse, Ivory.” He tossed the newspaper onto the table before he retrieved his mug of blood. Ivy’s fangs slowly extended at the sweet scent of the blood he drank. “You can put your bag down and close the door.”

  Ivy nodded as her tongue fiddled with the sharp tip of her left fang. She did as he instructed, and kicked her foot back to slam the door shut whilst dropping her bag to the floor.

  “Stand in the centre of the room,” ordered Coach Aldon.

  Se shuffled to the middle of the room. Her tongue still distractedly danced over her fangs, and moved from one to the other as her gaze rested on the mug of tempting blood.

  “Have you fed this morning?” Coach Aldon asked.

  “I had one mug of espresso blood.”

  “I see,” Coach Aldon said thoughtfully, placing the mug down on the table. “I have gone over your file.”

  Ivy nodded lazily, her fangs finally receding back into her gums. Only traces of the blood lingered in the air, but not much. He must have finished the entire mug.

  “It is unusual for a Vampire your age to not have any success in summoning spirit magic,” observed Coach Aldon, his tone and gaze pensive. “Are you able to drain Fae magic?”

  “I have no issues with that. It’s easy. But, with my spirit magic … It’s like trying to grab air.”

  “Meaning?”

  Ivy bit her lip and glanced up at the ceiling. “I don’t feel it. I can’t touch the magic within me, because it feels like it isn’t even there, sir.”

  Coach Aldon smiled softly. “I’m sure you’re merely a late bloomer, Ivory. Your magic is inside of you. It’s inherent, in your blood, but dormant.”

  “How do we … wake it up?” she asked curiously.

  “I have methods,” he said. “In this case, I think we should jump straight to the most effective method.”

  “And that would be …?”

  “A blood ban,” he said bluntly. Ivy blinked at him. “Don’t worry, it isn’t permanent. We can’t have you wasting away, now, can we?”

  “When you say blood ban,” hesitated Ivy. “Do you mean rations—”

  “No blood,” he interrupted. “At all. Not a lick or a drop of it. We’ll see how your dormant magic responds.”

  Lips parting in horror, Ivy merely gaped at the torturer in disguise. She decided she didn’t like him, not at all.

  “Good,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I will write to your father about our planned methods. He has requested constant updates on the progress of your training.” He added, “Your father isn’t too pleased that you’re last in your class, you know.”

  She wasn’t surprised. Felix raked in top grades, while Ivy struggled to scrape by with a mere pass.

  “You are dismissed,” he said, and strolled back over the table before he perched himself on the edge.

  “Already?” Ivy frowned, and observed him curiously.

  “You were late, and I have another student to train in a few minutes. My time is precious.” — Ivy hung her head in shame, and her poker-straight hair fell down the side of her blushing face. — “Consider today’s session as your introduction.”

  Just as she reached her bag by the wall, the door to her right
swung open and almost whacked the side of her body.

  Snatching her bag from the floor, she swung it over her shoulder and turned to face the door. Samael Valac stood in the threshold, his cool gaze instantly boring into her eyes. He was obviously the student Coach Aldon was to meet after her lesson.

  Grateful for the presence of a faculty member, Ivy took comfort in the knowledge that he wouldn’t tease her with Coach Aldon there. She stuck out her tongue at Samael before barging past him and into the labyrinth of corridors.

  She almost felt his hateful intentions radiate from his pores and follow her down into the maze of halls and passageways.

  5

  “It’s coming.”

  Pulling the quilt over her head, Ivy tried to tune out the murmurs.

  “When the sun is at its farthest.”

  Ivy grumbled under her breath and buried her head beneath a pillow.

  “The hunted will be become the hunters.”

  Ivy smacked her pillow in frustration and rolled onto her back.

  “The hybrid they seek at the solstice—”

  Ivy had had enough. She sat up in the bed, snatched her pillow, and hurled it across the room. It whacked Penny’s face, but the sleep-talker didn’t flinch. Penny still spoke in her sleep, though the words were now muffled by the pillow.

  Looking over at Addie on the third bed, Ivy saw that she was, too, fast asleep. How anyone could submerge themselves in a deep slumber with Penny rambling nonsense was beyond Ivy.

  She hadn’t had more than three decent nights’ sleeps since they’d arrived at the Academy, weeks ago.

  Flinging the quilt off her body, Ivy huffily climbed out bed. She went downstairs to the den.

  As it was the middle of the night, the den was relatively quiet. Only a dozen or so Vampires loitered around, mostly by the crackling fireplaces. Samael Valac pored over an old tome at the bar, settled on a rickety stool, and a steaming mug of plain blood beside him. Ivy could smell it, the bland coppery aroma.

  She trotted over to the bar and ordered herself a caffeinated drink.