by Helen Harper
“No, but, he didn’t know that would happen. I mean, I didn’t know that would happen either, but that doesn’t mean he’s to blame.”
“He kind of is,” said Mary, gently. “That’s why he’s there, to make sure that nothing goes wrong.”
Yeah, but he didn’t know that he had a fucking Draco Wyr who had no idea what she was capable of in front of him, did he? Now I had the guilt of making him look bad to add to everything else. I turned off the tap again. “I need to see Thomas.”
Mary ignored me and rummaged inside the kit, pulling out a small bottle. “Here’s some disinfectant.”
“I mean it, Mary.”
“He won’t see you. He said that he’s busy or something, and that I should make sure you’re all cleaned up and that you get some food, and then some rest.”
I bristled at Thomas’ seeming solicitude. Yeah, he was a wanker. One minute he was forcing me to shave all my hair off and the next he was pretending to look after my well-being. I trusted him more when he was just being nasty. I grabbed the disinfectant from Mary’s hand and rubbed it on, hissing slightly at the sting, then took a pristine white bandage and wrapped it tightly round my hand and wrist.
“When was the last time you ate?” Mary enquired.
My stomach growled in answer.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she said. “You didn’t even have lunch, did you?”
I could feel myself getting annoyed. The last thing I needed right now was to be mothered by a teenager. She beamed at me. “Let’s head down to the cafeteria. It’ll have just opened so the food’ll be fresh.”
I pasted a smile onto my face, forcing the corners of my mouth to curve upwards. “Fine.”
I took a surreptitious look at the lump on my bed where the books were as we left. If Mary had noticed it, then she hadn’t thought to mention it. I mentally crossed my fingers and prayed it was going to be alright, along with poor Higgins. As we walked down to the cafeteria, Mary gushed away about her day, and the success she’d had in conjuration with “like, making a dryad appear in the middle of the room.” I briefly wondered whether I should tell her just how painful it was for a dryad to be even a short distance away from the trees they called home, then decided it would serve little purpose now. Clearly responsibility towards the rest of the Otherworld wasn’t something that was high on the mages’ agenda.
I was getting quite sick of the wave of silence that seemed to precede our journey to the canteen with every room we passed. It was even worse when we entered the dining area itself, as at least forty pairs of eyes immediately swiveled in my direction and then quickly looked away as if to pretend that they hadn’t seen me. One swaggering teenager stood up and walked towards us as if he was going to say something to me, then brushed past, his elbow barely catching the edge of my robes. The group sat at the table that he’d emerged from sniggered nervously.
“Ignore them,” said Mary confidently at my side. “It’s just truth or dare. All the Initiates play it at some point.”
“Let me guess – I’m the dare?”
She flicked a rueful glance at me. When the teenager twisted back for a return shot, I couldn’t help myself from snapping right and snarling animalistically in a manner that any of my old shifter buddies would have been proud of. He was so startled that he half fell backwards, skidding on the polished floor. I tried not to laugh, but it was a struggle. Then I reminded myself soberly that I had to start giving off a better impression of myself.
We joined the back of the queue for some food. The smells wafting up were delicious: homemade bread, something pungent with garlic and tomatoes and, if my sense hadn’t completely deserted me, coffee. Realising how hungry I was, and how much better some food would make me feel I began to relax. That’s when Mary tapped the shoulder of the Initiate in front of us, who turned stiffly and awkwardly.
“Hi Mary,” he said nervously.
“Hey Brock! Have you met Baldilocks?”
The guy muttered something inaudible then stuck out his hand limply. I only just barely worked out that Mary had been referring to me, so I was momentarily frozen until I got hold of myself and managed to reach out and shake his hand back. He muttered something again and then turned back to face the queue.
“Baldilocks?” I hissed at Mary.
“Yeah! D’you like it? I think it suggests a sense of humour, but reminds people that you’re just a girl and not, like this big scary ogre or anything.”
I curled my nails into the palms of my hands. “It’s great.” I said through gritted teeth, “But I think Mack actually suits me better.”
“No way, like I said, a nickname will do wonders for your reputation! Everyone will realise that you’re actually kind of fun.”
“I’m actually not kind of fun,” I growled back at her, but she missed it as she leaned over to give her order to the serving lady.
Once we both had piles of steaming food on our plates, we headed to sit down. I veered right, making straight for a nearby empty table, but Mary tugged at my sleeve instead and irritatingly took me to a table filled with Initiates who looked to be about the same age as her.
She introduced me to them all, yet again as ‘Baldilocks’, to which I was barely able to repress a shudder. Mary then proceeded to keep up a stream of chatter the entire time. I watched her for a few moments, mouth half-agape at the bubbly enthusiasm that never seemed to quite abate, then my stomach growled loudly again, making the kid to the right of me jump almost half out of his seat. So instead I smiled pleasantly, and began to dig in.
It was virtually impossible for the table to remain silent and stony under the onslaught of Mary’s chatter. By the time we were done, I knew all the Initiates’ names and backgrounds. I knew that Brock, the poor boy who’d been forced into an introduction with me at the dinner queue, was particularly gifted at Evocation, but that he really, really wanted to do well in Kinesis instead as that was his family’s business. I also knew that Deborah, whose family bloodline ran all the way back to the Pendle witches in the seventeenth century, had a huge crush on Thomas (I found that particularly difficult to fathom but managed to refrain from commenting further) and that Aqmar had travelled all the way from Indonesia to chilly England to train here because this academy was meant to be one of the most prestigious in the world. I managed to deflect many awkward questions about my own background, well aware of what Mary had said earlier in the day about shifters, and instead gave the teenagers the chance to talk about themselves. Inevitably, however by the time we were all finishing up, the conversation drifted to Protection.
“I hate it,” groaned Aqmar. “All we ever do is work on protecting ourselves and defense spells instead of how to actually fight back.”
“Mmmph,” agreed Deborah through a mouthful of food. “I’ve got Mage Atterton for Protection and he’s a complete waste of space. Now if I had Mage Thomas,” she said with an arch look in my direction, “things might be different.”
Mary bounced up and down in her seat. “But that’s perfect!” She exclaimed. “Baldilocks, you can teach us Protection.”
My eyes widened in alarm. “Um, I’m not sure that’s a very good…”
“That’s a great idea! You’ve been out into the real world, you know what it’s really like,” cried Aqmar.
Deborah joined in. “And you can show us what Mage Thomas shows you.”
“I don’t really think…” I began again.
“We can do it on Saturdays when we’ve got, like, time off,” Mary suggested. “Out in the old field. You know the one that never gets used any more.”
“Let’s do it!” Aqmar’s eyes were shining.
I looked from one face to the other and sighed inwardly. “You’ll need to get permission first,” I finally conceded. “I’m not sure that I’m really allowed to do this.”
“Brock can go to the Dean - he’s like the pet Initiate.”
“I am not,” he spluttered. “I just know him from outside the academy ‘cos I�
�ve met him a few times at family things that’s all.”
“Yeah, but you’ll ask him, won’t you?”
He looked uncomfortable but Deborah put a perfectly manicured hand on his arm and purred up at him. “Come on, Brocky.”
He shot me a quick look from under his eyelashes and then gave in. “Okay, I’ll go talk to him. I’m not promising anything though.”
“Yes,” I agreed hastily, “I’m not convinced that the Dean would be happy with me contaminating your young minds with thoughts of violence.”
“Tosh! Don’t you worry, Baldilocks, he’ll agree.”
I winced yet again at the ridiculous moniker. I figured rationally, however, that having some of the academy’s best and brightest on my side couldn’t do any harm. I was fairly certain that I could put them through their paces without getting them to do anything dangerous, and I supposed that at least it would keep me busy. With that, I made my excuses, and left them to it, all of them jabbering away at poor Brock to sort out exactly what he’d say to the Dean to make him acquiesce to their request.
*
When I got back to my little room, I flipped over the sheet and stood staring down at the books for a moment. The night was already drawing in, so I flipped on the light switch, allowing the bare bulb that was hanging from the ceiling to flicker on with a faint buzz, then I propped up the pillows at the edge of the wall and sat down, pulling the Fae text towards me. If anything, the tingling sensation when I picked it up seemed to have intensified, as if the book itself knew that I was finally going to have the chance to read it properly.
Shifting uncomfortably on the narrow lumpy bed, I carefully turned over to the first page, glancing yet again at the illustration. There was no telling where it was from, whether it was even of this plane or not. Carefully, I turned the page again to the first Fae rune that loudly proclaimed the title. I hadn’t realised that I’d been holding my breath until my lungs started to ache. I slowly exhaled. Tracing the rune with my finger, I reached over for the dictionary to begin the laborious process of looking it up.
It was a simple rune, as far runes go, with merely two strokes inked in next to a teardrop shaped etching, so after several moments of flicking through the dictionary, I found what was I looking for. When I read the definition, I sank back slightly into the pillows, considering. It translated directly as ‘fire’. And yet, the picture on the preceding page clearly was not one that suggested death or violence or fiery hell, but rather tranquility and mother nature. I’d certainly have to hope that was the case. I didn’t need any more death or destruction in my life.
Turning the page again, I was confronted by a considerable amount of closely written text. Heart sinking, I realised that working out what all this meant was going to take more than just one evening with a Fae dictionary. I pondered my alternatives. I could potentially see if I could sneak the book out when I went to anger management counselling tomorrow. Then, I might be able to find a way to contact Solus and pass him the book for translation. But I might not be able to get hold of him; I might not get any time alone even if I could contact him; in fact, I might even get caught with the book itself, and I was pretty sure that it would be harder to explain away how it ended up in my possession outside of the academy’s walls than inside. No, I would just have to do it the hard way. Feeling a wave of exhaustion flood through me, I closed my eyes briefly, thinking that I’d just grab a quick catnap and then make a proper start on translating it. Even if I only managed the first page tonight, it would be a start, and I reckoned I’d probably get more adept at it as I went along.
It was probably the ache in my neck that woke me several hours later, still full clothed in the blue robes, and with a trail of drool leading to my shoulder. The Fae book remained open on my lap, at exactly the same page that I’d left it at. Angry with myself for letting my physical weaknesses get in the way of what I needed to do, I pushed the book off to the side and stood up, stretching, then padded over to the window and looked out.
The night sky was a deep midnight blue, with a considerable amount of cloud cover preventing any stars from shining through, and although I could just hear the night calls of some distant animals, everything else was quiet and still. I sucked the air deep into my lungs, appreciating the moment of peace, and gazed upwards. The wind must have picked up at that point, as the clouds suddenly cleared in one corner, revealing the bright luminescence of the moon underneath. I could feel my bloodfire leap into my heart for just one brief moment as it registered deep within me that it was a full moon. That meant that every shifter, all over the country, was right now outside enjoying the night. I could picture it in my mind’s eye almost as clearly as if I was there with them myself. Even though I’d obviously never been able to shift myself, I had still always appreciated the freedom and abandoned joy that the full moon had provided. I’d go out with the pack and, while they shifted into their weres, I’d run and playfight and feel.
Fuck it. I shoved my feet into my shoes, and quickly covered the books with my sheet again, then opened my room door slowly, trying to be quiet. The spiral staircase, and then the corridor that ran along the other dorm rooms were both as silent and still as the world outside my window had been. Nonetheless, I tiptoed along, wary of any creaks that the old floorboards might yield up as my weight landed on them. However I managed to sneak my way down and onto the ground floor with the minimum of sound. Trying the handle, it became clear that the front door was locked and that I’d need to find another way out, so after thinking for a moment, I slipped along to the cafeteria.
The tables and chairs, that had been so full just scant hours before, lay dark and empty. The moonlight, now fully bared, drifted in, creating eerie twisting shadows amongst the utilitarian furniture. I picked my across the room, until I was standing in front of the large windows that looked out over the driveway. Pulling up one chair, I stood on it and reached up for the clasp, just managing to grab it enough with the tips of my fingers to flip it over. Then I hopped up, hands curling over the frame, and head-butted it open as I dragged my body over to follow. The wounds in my hand throbbed as the window banged against them, but I paid them little heed and focused instead on squeezing myself out.
Eventually making it out into the cool night air, I took another a deep breath and filled in my lungs. The damp earthy scent of dew and soil and just sheer goodness rose to my nostrils, and I closed my eyes briefly, savouring the moment. Then I took a quick glance around, registering the absolute stillness of the night and the fact that I was, indeed, truly alone. Moving forward ever so slightly, my foot caught the edge of the crumpled Initiate robes that I was still wearing. I barely hesitated before pulling them over my head and leaving them in a pile beside my feet. I still had my underwear on underneath, if the unlikely happened and I ran into someone while I was out here. Personally, I doubted whether anyone would be all that keen to view my greying and now somewhat holey smalls anyway. Besides, just for now, for this moment, I needed the sense of freedom and the connection, however tiny, to my old life.
And then I took off. The mage issue shoes weren’t really designed for running, but it didn’t matter. I was out and in the open. Life was good. I jogged at an even pace round to the back of the house, occasionally jumping over the odd bush. Once in the garden where I’d taken the oaths, that somehow seemed almost lifetime away now even though it had actually only been a couple of days, I skirted round the statue and sped up, sprinting now. I passed perfectly planted rose-bushes, void of flowers now it was the dead of winter, but with thorns still gleaming in the moonlight; and pruned hedges and carefully raked soil just waiting for the first sneaking sign of spring before being sown and tended. There was no wind, but the cool night air still brushed arrogantly past my naked skin as I continued to pound my way around.
After a while I veered off left and ended up on the cobbled pathways, which twisted through the buildings that housed the different disciplines. I reached out and scraped my fingertips along the
rough walls as I ran, almost as if I was double checking that they were real. When I reached the door that led through to Illusion, I slowed for a moment. The gateway remained firmly in place this time. Then I dismissed it and continued on.
By the time I got back to the windows of the cafeteria, I was breathing hard. My skin and muscles felt pleasantly tingly all over as the enjoyment of exertion rippled through me. I felt better than I had done in a long time. Picking up the robes from where I’d left them, I decided not to bother trying to strain myself to clamber back inside them. Instead I jumped up and clung onto the edge of the window frame and shoved them through, pushing myself after them. The sleeve of the robes caught against something so I tugged hard without thinking, realising too late that had been a dumb move as the fabric ripped violently. Oops.
I yanked them off whatever had snagged them and peered down in the darkness, trying to ascertain what damage had been done. The moon took that opportunity, however, to sneak its way back behind the clouds. Shrugging to myself, I balled them up in front of me and headed back to my room to sleep.
Chapter Seven
When I woke again a few hours later, I stretched out lazily like a cat, enjoying the slight tautness in my muscles. Then, humming to myself, I sprang up and padded over to the sink, splashing my face with water. My night-time jaunt had clearly done wonders for my mood, and I felt lighter and more carefree than I had done in a long time.
Craving several cups of dark chewy coffee, I picked up my robes from where I’d left them in a haphazard heap on the floor and shook them out. The only other replacement robes I’d been given had already been sent to the academy’s laundry room the previous morning, and I knew from what Mary had said that I could expect them back by Saturday, but, even in this era of attempting to conserve energy and water by not continually washing, I felt that I – and everyone else in fact - deserved at least one other outfit. All these magic lessons involved exerting a lot of energy, often surprisingly physically so, and being surrounded by adolescents going through sweaty puberty did not exactly offer much opportunity to enjoy an odour-less society. I gave the robes a sniff, but fortunately my foray into the front gardens had somehow imbued them with the soft but not unpleasant smell of damp grass. Less happily, they had the appearance of having been crumpled into a ball and left for several hours – which of course they had. Sighing, I smoothed them out as best as I could and began the daily routine of contorting my body so I could put them on. At the very point of achieving success, and completing the final maneuver of yanking my head and neck through, I distinctly heard the sound of another fabric rupture.
