by S. W. Clarke
I didn’t know if I believed deeply and absolutely in anything. That isn’t true, I thought immediately. You believe in Mom and Tamzin’s love. But everything after that had been fraught, uncertain. “How deep and absolute are we talking here?”
“The sun is ninety-two million miles from the Earth, but you must believe you can touch it.”
Touch the sun? This was a bit too much hoo-doo for me.
We had been walking for a good twenty minutes, and were passing into the deep woods now. The canopy had grown thicker, sunlight streaking through in smaller and fewer shafts. The chill deepened.
“And why are you taking me to the academy?”
“For you to enroll, Clementine. I admit, my designs are selfish, too. I seek to protect you from the forces of darkness, but I would also have you grow into your power under proper guidance.”
So I can fight them. That last part she didn’t say, but it was implied. “And why are there no more witches?”
Headmistress Umbra let out a slow sigh. “That is a long story, and perhaps one for another time. Suffice it to say, child, we are losing. Badly.”
“We?”
Her eyes met mine, glassy with feeling. “The forces of light. We who defend the upper realm from the denizens of the lower realms.”
“But aren’t witches kinda…you know, evil-ish?” I half-smirked, my own discomfort with her earnestness seeping out. “Historically speaking. And mythologically. And, well, in every way.”
“Some. Just as some humans perform evil acts.” She raised a hand, touched my shoulder. “But this academy is for those who do good. And I assume you mean to do good.” She stared hard at me then, her eyebrows rising.
Expectations were written all over that gaze.
I cleared my throat. “Sure.”
There were a lot of qualifiers to that, especially since adolescence. I mean, I swore. I used to lie as easily as breathing. I’d shoplifted in the past. And then of course, there was what I did to my former boss in the back room of Corner Mart Grocery.
That was when the Spitfire had emerged.
But he deserved it, a small voice returned. Maury was asking for it.
Did he deserve to have his nose broken, though? the voice of reason returned. And to have his face punched eight times?
Eight times. Apparently I’d counted. I hadn’t realized that until now.
Meanwhile, Headmistress Umbra was still staring at me as though she could see the thoughts rippling across my mind.
“I mean it,” I said with more sureness than I felt. “I mean to do good.”
She stared at me a moment longer, and then with one gratifying and decisive nod, she turned forward. “Good. Because we’ve arrived at the academy.”
Chapter Five
Before us stood…a whole lot of nothing.
I saw lots more forest, yes, and oodles of enormous trees. But other than that, no academy. Not even a cabin in the woods.
“Uh.” I raised a slow finger. “Unless it’s underground, there’s nothing here.”
Her face shifted into amusement. “Oh, there most certainly is.” She started forward, turning around to walk backward as she addressed me. “The academy is protected by deep magic. You can only see it if you look right.”
I started after her, but she had already turned back around. She kept walking, and no matter how fast I walked, I seemed to be losing her.
“Umbra?” I waved a halfhearted hand. How was this woman moving so fast? “Hello?”
She didn’t wait up. She disappeared behind a tree, her last words coming to me on the breeze. “This is your second test, Clementine.”
When I came around the tree she’d vanished behind, she wasn’t there. So I walked the full circumference of the tree. She wasn’t anywhere.
“Well, Loki, that woman left us.” When I came back around, he was seated on his haunches and cleaning his left ear with his paw. “Why don’t you look more concerned?”
He cleaned a few seconds longer—probably just to make me wait. Finally, he separated his toes to inspect his claws before lowering his paw to the ground. “Why should I be? She said it’s a test. So now I spend the next month hunting mice while I wait for you to complete that test and get us into the academy. And I’ll have you know, I’m an expert mouser.”
I barked a laugh. “There’s no academy here. There’s nothing at all but trees. You can see for yourself.”
Loki regarded me with lidded eyes. “Gods, you’re dreadfully square.”
I’d preferred it when I couldn’t understand him and just assumed his judgmental eyes were part of his natural appearance. Now I knew his resting bitch face was totally intentional.
I pointed at him. “I don’t need this from you. I’ve had kind of a terrible night, you know. And I still don’t have any shoes.”
He yawned, lowered down to his belly. “Did I say a month? More like a year.”
One thing about my cat: he knew how to motivate me. I hated failing.
My mouth pursed to the size of a raspberry, and my arms shot out with wordless exasperation, gesturing to the vast wilderness of nothing around us. But when Loki lowered his head and broke eye contact, I knew I wasn’t getting his sympathy.
“Fine. I’ll look for the academy.” I stalked away from my cat like we were a bickering couple and I needed some air. I made a long circuit through the trees, looking all around for anything—anything at all that wasn’t bark, trunk, or dead leaves.
Nothing. Nada.
When I finished my circle—God, my ankles and feet hurt, which I supposed was better than no feeling at all—and came back to Loki, he had fallen asleep. He had always been good at falling asleep fast, no matter the time of day or what was going on around him.
So much for my familiar coming to my aid.
I couldn’t walk much more without shoes. Frankly, I couldn’t walk much at all. Not after that fall I’d taken.
So I did the only thing left to me to do.
I sat down next to Loki, crossed my legs, and contemplated how to be done with this purgatory.
You can only see it if you look right. You can only see it if you look right.
I had no idea how to “look right.” Frankly, I hated tests. Even if I liked a good puzzle, calling it a “test” sent my brain right into rebellion. Ever since the foster system, I hadn’t been very good with people telling me what to do.
So I sat there for the next five hours, brooding in Umbra’s cloak. At some point Loki climbed into my lap and continued napping. Eventually the sun began to fall low, the forest darkening around us.
And it was in the growing darkness that I heard footsteps.
I went completely stiff. In my lap, Loki tensed, all the fur along his back and tail rising.
Before me, a small but intense light had emerged from the darkness. It swayed back and forth, creaking as it did.
I started to my feet, and Loki leapt from my arms. He took up a stance in front of me, his back arching high and his ears tucking to his head.
My fingers curled and I stood, ready to fight.
I was about to call out when a young man’s voice echoed through the forest. “Are you Clementine Cole?”
I exchanged glances with Loki, who gazed up at me with wide, uncertain eyes. An unspoken thought passed between us: More creatures of darkness?
But that voice hadn’t struck me as evil. Not even faintly.
I tried to sound menacing anyway, but all that came out was, “Yes?”
The bobbing light approached, growing in size. Out of the almost-dark, a young man materialized with a lantern held high. He was about my age and at least a head taller than me. Well, he didn’t look like he belonged to the forces of darkness. For one thing, I could see his eyes. They were brown under his glasses.
But I wasn’t about to take chances. I needed to confirm.
“Hey”—I pointed a finger straight at him—“good or evil?”
The guy stopped, the lantern still swaying in
his hand. I could see him looking down at his own body, which was still coltish and lanky with adolescence. He was dressed in slacks and a blazer, his shirt buttoned to his neck—which made him almost a classical nerd.
He finally lifted his face. “Good. If you don’t include my overdue fees at the library.”
Definitely a nerd.
In any case, that was enough for me. Frankly, I was getting a little desperate for company that didn’t have claws and a tail. And I really wanted shoes.
I lowered my pointing finger, still playing at haughty distrust. “Well, what are you here for?”
“I’ve been sent out by the headmistress to find you.”
I made a noise of disdain. “She was the one who left me out here.”
He lowered the lantern, took a few steps closer. By this time, Loki had decided he wasn’t an acute threat and approached on cat’s feet. “That’s right.” The guy leaned down, one hand reaching out toward Loki. “It’s part of the entrance test. But it normally doesn’t take so long for new students to get in. She grew worried.”
Oh, that got my blood right up. “How long does it take a normal student, then?”
When Loki veered away from his hand, the guy straightened. “About two hours.”
Loki snickered as he came back to my feet. “And we’ve been out here for seven.”
Thanks, wingman. I took two steps closer to the student. “Listen, until seven hours ago I was living halfway across the world. Then I was kidnapped by the ‘forces of evil,’ who tried to throw me in a river. Now I’ve been made to sit out here in my pajamas. What kind of people are you, anyway?”
The longer I spoke, the more I convinced myself of the severity of my own suffering. It was actually kind of nice to feel a little adrenaline in my veins—it reminded me I was alive. So I ended my rant with my hands thrown up, which really just caused a little kerfuffle inside my cloak. Because I forgot I was wearing it.
I was much cooler in my non-magical life.
To his credit, the guy waited until I was done speaking, watching me all the while. At the end, he smiled and notched his glasses up his nose. “I wasn’t mocking you, but I am taking notes on how easy you are to rile up.”
That riled me up even more. “What’s with the outfit, anyway? Got something to hide under all those buttons?”
He laughed at this, a musical sound through the forest. “You should get used to buttons. You’ll have your own ridiculous kit to wear soon enough, provided you can get in.”
Provided I can get in. There was no way I wasn’t getting in now. Not with this guy and my cat taunting me. “So are you going to show me the way in?”
He half-smirked. “Afraid not.”
I took a step closer, allowing a lock of hair to fall effortlessly over my face. “Please?”
A promising smile tugged his mouth up before it dropped back into solemn place. “No.”
I groaned. “But I’m the last witch in the whole world. It’s not very responsible for the headmistress to leave me out here—barefoot—to fend for myself against the forces of evil.”
His brown eyes gleamed in the soft light from the lantern. He was smiling at me again. “Deep magic protects this forest. No forces of evil lurk here—except maybe a barefoot witch.”
“Oh, you mean me. Because I’m a witch. That’s funny.” I tilted my head at him with as nonplussed a face as I could muster. I had a point to make. “You can go, then.”
I sat back down on the ground, cringing the whole way. The frigidness of the earth bit into my legs, even through the headmistress’s cloak and my pajama pants. But my irritation helped my resolve.
After a moment, the guy came around and sat down next to me. “I’m supposed to stay with you until you figure it out. Oh, and bring you this.” He set the lantern down between us.
I swallowed, but didn’t say anything. I stared straight ahead, silently grateful for his company.
Loki was too, it seemed. He approached the student in that slow, meandering way cats do, finally allowing him to scratch him under his furry chin.
“Betrayer,” I whispered.
Loki gave me a mischievous look. “He scratches where you don’t. Right under the jaw.”
The guy looked between us. “Sounds like you and your familiar have a…dynamic relationship.”
I glared at Loki. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Another way of putting it,” Loki said as he climbed into the guy’s lap, “is love-hate. You love, I hate.”
Despite myself, I laughed. I’d always thought as much; now I knew Loki did, too.
As I stared into the darkness, the headmistress’s words floated back to me once more. You can only see it if you look right.
Look right.
“No way,” I whispered.
Could the test really be as simple as that?
I glanced to my right, but saw nothing in the darkness.
I grabbed the lantern, stood up. “You can only see if you look right,” I repeated.
The student said nothing, but I could feel him and Loki watching me.
I walked back to the spot the headmistress had left me at, right next to a tree. I set my hand to the trunk, feeling the bark and walking clockwise around its enormous circumference.
As I came around the side, I looked to the right. And there, in my peripheral vision, was something built into the tree that I hadn’t noticed before.
A door.
Chapter Six
I stepped closer to the door. It was inlaid with an intricate carving, and I held the lamp out to see properly. Someone had carved an enormous sun, its rays spreading like a beacon over the carved trees below.
“Hello you,” I whispered. How did I not see this before? It seemed so obvious, built as it was right into the tree.
My hand went to the knob, and I turned it. It slid with ease, and I pushed the door open.
And what I found on the other side wasn’t the inside of a tree. It wasn’t even in the inside of anything.
I simply came out on the other side of a door into more forest.
I spun, staring. Behind me sat the same tree with the open door, and through it I could see only the same forest—and Loki, who came trotting through.
The brown-eyed guy followed Loki through the door, closing it behind him. In this light, his crop of hair shone chestnut in the light as he turned back to me. “Welcome to Shadow’s End Academy, Clementine.”
He swept a hand out, and I stared after it. As I did, lights flicked on through the forest, illuminating all the trees before me as high as I could see. A small path appeared, leading into a clearing with a large amphitheater and a vaulted roof overtop it.
Up in the trees, curved walkways spiraled around the trunks and made rope bridges. People moved around up there. And flew. I definitely spotted someone with iridescent wings float from one tree to another.
A strange tugging feeling had begun in my chest from the moment I’d seen that old woman with her staff, and I recognized it now for what it was: the physical acknowledgement that my world had changed.
My life was fundamentally different than it had been before. I would have to accept a new, momentous reality.
Magic was real. This was all real.
“Look right,” I said again as Loki trotted up to my feet. This time, I didn’t sound so breathless—more dismayed. “All I had to do was look to the right?”
The student glanced back at me. “Sort of. You had to look at it the right way, too. The headmistress doesn’t have patience for people who lack imagination.”
People who lack imagination. Why did imagination matter so much? I wanted to know more—later. Right now, my insides were fizzing with pure pleasure.
I had passed the test.
I had found the academy.
And maybe, just maybe, I could get some shoes.
I lowered the lantern and started down the path toward the amphitheater. “So who are you?” I called over my shoulder.
; The student fell into step beside me. “Aiden North. I’m a first-year, and the student ambassador.”
“First-year what?” I tilted my head. “Not a witch. I know that much.”
“I’m a mage.” His eyes drifted away from me in a sure signal that he didn’t want to be pressed on that point. Which meant, me being me, I had to press him.
“Ah, so you’re like Umbra. White lightning and all that.”
“She’s a wizard. Mages don’t exclusively use air magic.”
“There are different types of magic?”
On my other side, Loki let out an audible groan. “I do not know her.”
Aiden side-eyed me. “How much do you know about supernatural creatures? Lore? Mythology?”
I shrugged like it was nothing. “I read The Hobbit in high school.”
He laugh-groaned. “I guess that counts for a primer. Suffice it to say, your world’s about to be tilted.”
As much as Aiden’s know-it-allness bugged me, it was also vaguely charming. He reminded me of my sister. Of course, I’d never tell him as much. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve moved past ‘tilted’ and gone right into rocked-like-a-snow-globe.”
“Oh, Clementine.” He turned us right, leading us toward the largest tree of all, right behind the amphitheater. The tree bore a carving above a set of double doors, but I couldn’t make out the lettering. “This is only the beginning.”
My eyes rose the visible length of the tree trunk, some thirty feet into the air before it seeped into darkness. “The beginning of what?”
Aiden set one hand on my shoulder, veered me past the enormous double doors toward a smaller tree—it was still, of course, enormous—with a winding staircase built into its side. “Of the rest of your life. This way, to your dorm.”
My first thought: The rest of my life. That sounded final, full of commitment. I needed to get back to my life in DC...didn’t I? But Umbra might know things about my mother and sister. She could have the answers to the questions I’d spent years asking.
I needed to stay, if only to find out as much as I could.
And, as I glanced at Loki trotting alongside me, I wondered if you could ever go back to your previous life once you’d had a conversation with your cat in which the cat talked back.
