Enchanter Witch Academy

by Paige Stonebank

  “Who can tell me how the bond between caster and magic works?” Mr. Henry’s voice brought me back to the present. I was vaguely aware of my chewed pen as I pulled it from my mouth. What the hell was he even talking about?

  Margot was the only one who put her hand up. In typical Mr. Henry fashion, he sighed and nodded for her to answer. It was apparent that he didn’t like her very much, either, and it made for good entertainment in class. She didn’t seem to notice, though. In her mind, everyone liked her.

  “I like to think of the magic as a servant. It has to do what we want it to,” she said, popping a chewing gum bubble nearly the size of her head.

  Mr. Henry contemplated her answer. “It’s different for every person. Who else wants to take a shot?”

  To everyone’s surprise, Wendy put up her hand. “If it’s different for everyone, why are we even discussing this? I mean, wouldn’t it be more beneficial if we learned how to actually use it? Aren’t you the one who is supposed to teach us these things?”

  A note dropped onto my desk, neatly folded with my name scribbled on the front. It was Damien’s handwriting. I looked over at him, where he sat at the front of the class. He was looking at me, his eyes searching my face for something. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but I knew he wasn’t going to find whatever it was.

  Opening the note, I found nine words. Nine words that made my stomach drop.

  “You look pretty, as always. When can we talk?” I looked back up at him, then shook my head. I needed him to stop. I needed him to back off for a bit. If only for a little while.

  Mr. Henry chuckled at Wendy’s answer, catching me off guard. I broke eye contact with Damien to look at Mr. Henry. “I’m asking you this because I want to understand how everyone sees their magic. Once you understand your magic, you will have more control over it.” He then turned to me, smiling. I wanted to melt into the chair. “Miss Strange, what’s your bond with your magic?”

  I shook my head, silently begging him to pick someone else, but he just nodded persistently. I sighed. “Magic isn’t a servant, it’s an extension of oneself. You have to get to know it before you can manipulate it.” I turned my head toward Margot, addressing her directly. “It’s not something you control. It doesn’t belong to you. It is you.”

  Margot laughed and rolled her eyes. “Is that why you have so much control over your magic?” The jab hit me hard, but I pretended as if I didn’t hear her.

  “Interesting,” Mr. Henry said, obviously amused by the fact that I’d used his own words to explain my magic to him. He was about to open his mouth when the door to his classroom opened and a seething Mrs. Finnick came rushing in. Her face was red with anger. “Glenda, what can I—”

  “Where is she?” Her voice seemed higher than it usually was. She turned to face the classroom, then her eyes locked on me. I felt like a zebra who’d suddenly come face to face with a crocodile. There was nowhere to run from its deadly maw, no way to escape death.

  I’d never felt true terror more than in that moment. She marched toward me, every footstep angry and audible. It almost sounded as if she were walking in a cartoon. It sure looked like it.

  “You little witch,” she accused, waving her finger in my face. I swallowed. “I know it was you.”

  “Me?” I asked, my voice a little cracked. “What is it that you think I did, Mrs. Finnick?”

  “Glenda,” Mr. Henry intervened, interrupting her as she was about to say something else. “This is highly unprofessional. Whatever happened, I am sure there is a logical explanation for it.”

  I smiled weakly at Mr. Henry, a silent thanks.

  Mrs. Finnick’s eye twitched. “This girl set the entire greenhouse on fire. There’s nothing but ashes left!”

  Anger took over every other emotion I felt. It was one thing to accuse me of something that I could have possibly done, but this? How stupid did she think I was?

  “You think I did that?” I got to my feet. I didn’t know whether I should be mortified or insulted, and settled somewhere in between. “There’s a whole academy full of students. How does it being a fire prove that it was me? I don’t just go around snapping my fingers, setting greenhouses on fire for sport, Mrs. Finnick.”

  “You are the only one with that sort of magic, girl,” she hissed, disgusted.

  “Glenda.” Mr. Henry was walking toward us now.

  Mrs. Finnick didn’t pay any attention to him; instead, she was fully invested in staring me down. I didn’t back down. There was no way that I was going to admit to something I hadn’t done. It could have been anyone, it could have been an accident.

  “Yes, and there are no matches in the entire school,” I countered, feeling my nostrils flaring. The ballerina was now on my shoulder again, her arms crossed.

  “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?” she demanded.

  I shrugged. “I’m not suggesting anything. Not like you, blatantly accusing me of something without having your facts straight.”

  “And who do you suggest it was, hm?”

  “There’s a whole academy that wants to see my head on a stake,” I said. “Take your pick, Mrs. Finnick.”

  “Are you just going to let her talk to me like this?” She turned to Mr. Henry, who merely shrugged.

  “To be perfectly honest, I probably would have said something much worse if I were in her shoes. I’ll ask around and see if anyone saw anything suspicious, but I can assure you that it was not Miss Strange. She isn’t stupid enough to leave her signature after doing something like that. Either someone is trying to frame her, or it was merely a prank that has gone too far. Either way, I would like you to leave my classroom now so I can continue with my lesson.”

  Mrs. Finnick gave me one last glare, huffing before she marched out of the classroom. I sighed with relief. “Thank you,” was all I managed to say.

  Mr. Henry patted me on the shoulder. “We’ll discuss this later. Take a seat. We’re not done with today’s lesson yet.”

  All eyes were on me now, Margot grinning like a cat who ate a canary. I felt my fire rise in my chest. A small hand tugging at my hair was the only thing that kept me from leaping out of my chair and attacking her. I was certain it was her, certain she was trying to get me into trouble. I wouldn’t put it past her. But, then again, she wasn’t nearly clever enough to pull that off. She relied on brute force. She wasn’t sneaky. At least, not this sneaky. It must have been someone else. It had to be someone who was trying to get me expelled—to get me alone—or it was just another high school prank. I was willing to bet on the former.

  There was no chance that this was an accident. The more I thought about it, the more malicious the entire situation felt. How could it have been an accident? The smallest fire would have set off the sprinklers. No, this was someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Someone, perhaps, with the same magic as me. Someone who wanted to get my attention, to let me know what he was capable of.

  Everything fell into place, then. It must have been Sebastian. I couldn’t think of any other explanation.

  The rest of Mr. Henry’s class went by in a blur and when the bell rang for lunch, I decided to skip the rest of the day altogether. What use was school when I was probably being tracked at that very moment? I had to talk to Sebastian. I had to confront him and perhaps, if I was lucky, get some answers from him. I ignored every call of my name; I ignored the way the ballerina had to hold on to my hair as I made my way to my tower. I didn’t have time to talk to anyone. I didn’t have time to explain what I was going to do and why I had to do it. I fully intended to blow off my afternoon practice with Mr. Henry, as well. There were more pressing matters at hand.

  The ballerina didn’t say a word as I locked the tower door, opened the window that Sebastian had climbed through the last time he’d visited, and waited. I sat like that for hours, brooding, wallowing in self-pity. Things had been going so well. Things were going so bloody well, but it took only one act of malice to screw it all up. I wasn’
t going to stand for it. I was not going to let this boy ruin my life. I was going to confront him, to fight him if I had to. And then, I was going to fight anyone else that came my way with their whips and threats of death. I was not going to die. I’d been pushed around enough. I’d had enough to deal with concerning my magic alone. I had to sort this out before it piled up.

  I wanted a normal life after all of this was over. And the first step toward that was sorting out this mess with the greenhouse.

  Chapter 18: A Date With Mischief

  He was on the floor as soon as he planted both of his feet in my tower. I held him down, wearing gloves of flames on my hands. Sebastian swore colorfully. I heard another string of curses from behind me and turned to see the ballerina was holding down the phoenix, as well.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he said, his own hands erupting in flames.

  “Me?” I asked. “You’re the one who set the damned greenhouse on fire, you maniac!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he said, his brows furrowed in confusion. In a split second, my anger vanished and I realized what I was doing and where I was. I had waited hours for him to come, plotted everything I was going to do to him, and now… Now, I wasn’t so sure of myself anymore. He wasn’t fighting me—in fact, he was laying perfectly still beneath me. This caught me off-guard more than anything else.

  “I know who you are, Sebastian. You thought you could just come in here, pretend to help me, and then hand me over to your father?” If my body wasn’t burning hot, I probably would have cried. Not because I was sad or angry, but because I was so, so frustrated.

  This seemed to have an impact on him and he flipped us around, pinning me to the floor instead. His grip was vise-like around my wrists and my nostrils flared. “I came to you for help, Cornelia. Not to hand you over. Damn, what kind of guy do you think I am?”

  “The sort with an evil father,” I spat. His face flashed with something that resembled hurt, but it vanished as soon as it appeared. “The heir to the Dark Brotherhood?”

  “Fair enough,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll explain everything, I swear. But I have to let go of you first. Promise me that you won’t try anything stupid?”

  “I can’t make any promises,” I hissed, but it was enough for him.

  He peeled himself off of me, then held out a hand to help me out. I refused it, shaking the dust from my pants.

  “I want to see my father dead as much as the next guy. Perhaps even more.” His voice was low, laced with something more than just hate. It was an emotion I’d never seen before, an emotion that I hadn’t even believed existed. “I am not on his side, Cornelia. I came to you for a reason. If I wanted to hand you over to him, I would have done so the first night we met. I am not your enemy.”

  “Why would you want your own father dead?”

  He pushed a hand through his hair, chewing on his bottom lip before turning to face me fully. “He killed my mother and little brother, okay? They wanted to run, to get away from him, and he shot them. They didn’t deserve to die, but he does. I don’t care how I have to do it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this the other day?” I was a fool for asking that. He didn’t owe me his sad story, then—hell, he didn’t owe it to me now, either. It was personal and it was dark. And I was a stranger.

  “Because I didn’t think it really mattered,” he admitted. “I want him dead. He wants you dead. I figured the enemy of my enemy is my friend, or whatever.”

  “That was stupid,” I said, sighing. It was only then that I realized the ballerina was still trying to keep the phoenix down. I chuckled. “You can let him go now.”

  She almost looked disappointed, pointing two fingers at her own eyes before pointing them at the other familiar. It was very amusing seeing such a small creature saying she had an eye on a damned glorified bird.

  “What happened to the greenhouse?” he asked, looking at the phoenix as it landed on his shoulder.

  “Someone set it on fire,” I said. Someone, not Sebastian. I had that feeling again, that feeling of trust. He could have been making everything up, but he could also be telling the truth. I chose to believe him. I had trusted my gut the first time, and for some reason, I trusted it again this time. “One of the professors thought it was me.”

  “And you thought I did it because?” He waited for me to finish his sentence. I sighed.

  “Because it’s the only logical explanation.”

  He nodded. “That, or someone was trying to prank you. Or the Dark Brotherhood has someone at the school that is trying to alienate you from the rest of the academy. If they think you’re dangerous, they will push you aside.”

  “I don’t even know where to start looking for such a person,” I said, plopping down on my bed. He shrugged.

  “Maybe start with the person who hates you the most,” he suggested. “If it isn’t that person, it must be the Dark Brotherhood.”

  “I don’t think it will be someone on the inside,” I said, thinking back to try and remember a single suspicious person at the academy. “The headmistress is very particular about who she hires. She won’t allow a spy into the academy.”

  “The thing about a good spy is that you don’t know he’s a spy.” He was making good points. I hated it.

  “Are you saying that there are Dark Brotherhood members in the academy? Could they be students?” Students would have been the logical answer. The teachers were voted for by the parents of the students, and they wouldn’t vote in a teacher they didn’t trust.

  He shrugged. “It’s possible. They have people everywhere. But no, I don’t think it’ll be a student. It’s not my father’s style to employ anyone below the age of 20. He says we’re too soft, too easy to manipulate. I don’t even know who his right-hand man is. He’d rather have older soldiers.”

  “So, if there were someone here,” I began, pushing the list of students out of my head and instead bringing up one of the teachers. Still, I couldn’t imagine any of them actually doing something like that. “It would have to be a teacher.”

  “Hey, that’s a very far stretch. I know you have enemies here, and—”

  “How do you know that?” I interrupted.

  “You did your research on me, I did my research on you.” He shrugged. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he spied on me.

  I nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “My point is that it could be one of them.”

  “I don’t know.” The idea that someone would have gone to those lengths to get to me was a bit hard to believe. Especially as a stupid prank. “Margot doesn’t seem like the sort of person who would set a greenhouse on fire just to spite me.”

  “Margot?” Sebastian snorted. “Any person named Margot is bound to plot evil things.”

  I sighed. “Why are you even here?”

  “I came to see you,” he said, a look of confusion in his face. “I had to find out if you were in or not.”

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged, toeing the floor with my boot.

  “You don’t know?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Why?”

  “Because how do I know I can trust you? My life is at risk, here. I can’t just go around trusting every boy that slips into my bedroom through my window and tells me that he needs my help to kill his father.”

  There was a whole list of reasons why I shouldn’t have trusted him, but I did. That wasn’t the real reason why I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know, because an hour ago, I was still certain I was going to kill him with my bare hands. I was also afraid. I had tried not to be, but I was. If I agreed, everything would become a reality.

  “Hey,” he said, holding his hands up. “If you say it like that, you make me sound like some sort of creep.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Listen,” he said with a chuckle, “I can’t convince you that you can trust me. It’s just something you are going to have to decide for yourself. I am not going to beg you for your hel
p. You don’t strike me as the type of girl who would take kindly to begging, and to be honest, I’m much too good-looking to beg. Yes, I need your help, but I will find another way to overthrow my father and take down his organization if you refuse. And if we don’t work together, you’re not going to stand a chance against my father and his men. That much I can guarantee you.”

  “So, if I help you, you’ll help me?”

  He nodded. “You scratch my back and I will scratch yours. In this case, if we kill him, it solves both our problems.”

  I turned to the ballerina, hoping to find the answer in her eyes. I didn’t. I only found her staring at the phoenix. She didn’t blink. I nudged her with a foot. “What do you think? Can we trust them?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t like them, but just because I don’t like them doesn’t mean we can’t trust them. I don’t sense anything that would make me think they were here to hurt us. Usually, we can sense danger but with them...” She trailed off, shrugging again. “Nothing. I sense more danger from that friend of yours than these two.”

  “Damien?” I laughed. She really didn’t like him.

  She nodded. “Besides, if they do betray us, we can turn them both to ash.”

  Sebastian laughed, then frowned and swallowed. “She’s serious?”

  “I am,” she responded. I fought back a grin. The control he had over his magic was far more advanced than I had. I could sense it. I could sense the wildness in his magic. It was wild, but it wasn’t restless. It was nothing like mine.

  The phoenix narrowed his eyes at her, and she beamed. I still wasn’t sure if he could talk, but he did have a personality. Which meant he must have been like the ballerina. And he had a name. If Sebastien knew the name of his familiar, he was a few steps ahead of me. I hoped it was just a name he made up.

  “Fine,” I said, “I’ll team up with you. But no more secrets, and no more digging around in my business. I also expect all the information on my family.”