by Sarina Dorie
Orsolya happily gave up a dozen gnomes she had caged.
Vega tallied the gnomes she dropped into the purse combined with the ones she had incinerated in the heat of passion and the ones she suspected Ms. Chamapiwa had illegally disposed of. If they had eliminated sixty gnomes, it was possible she only had as few as twenty or as many as ninety left.
She intended to use her time Saturday tricking her three scheduled lessons into capturing gnomes for her.
It would have been enjoyable spending her Friday night dancing and partying at Café All Hexed Up, but Vega needed to strengthen the school wards again. If gnomes could get in, any Fae or Witchkin could break in. The school wasn’t safe without protection. She wasn’t safe from her enemies.
Vega had studied the correct kind of wards to protect buildings from Fae, though she was still learning this skill. She spent four hours at it and only made a little progress. Fixing the school wards would take weeks or an army—neither of which she had.
Vega was ready to drop into her bed like a corpse the moment she stepped into her room. Unfortunately, when she opened the door, she saw someone had gotten to her room first.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Losers Weepers
Vega gaped in shock at the sight of her room. Drawers to the dresser had been dumped onto the floor. Her undergarments were everywhere. Her wardrobe doors were open, and her professional clothes were torn from hangers. The bed had been stripped, and the mattress was askew. Her school supplies had been thrown out of her trunk, and her lessons were a mess.
Wind wafted the curtains in the corner.
Someone had taken advantage of the holes in the school’s wards. Before Vega touched anything, she tested the room for poisons, hexes, and curses. She was fortunate there were no traces of poison left in the room. Possibly that was because she now had the arsenic in her possession.
She closed the window and set her room in order. It didn’t appear her intruder had found the false bottom of her trunk. She left the files on the floor to be organized the next morning. Once her room was tidy again, she opened the hidden portal in the wall to her closet. All her clothes were as she’d left them. It was a good thing.
Anyone who touched her shoes would be on the receiving end of the worst curse she could imagine.
As exhausted as Vega was, she reinforced the wards around her room, hoping the gnomes wouldn’t chew through them and let an intruder in as she slept.
* * *
On Saturday morning, Vega found three notes from the principal asking about progress on the gnome relocation. Vega considered what she could say to the principal to alleviate her concerns and make sure she knew Vega was the best, most responsible teacher she could ever wish to hire.
In her note to the principal she wrote:
Mrs. Gordmayer,
Because I hold Lady of the Lake School for Girls in such high regard, I have personally volunteered my time to collect sixty gnomes and caged them humanely until another relocation expert arrives. Out of the kindness of my heart, I will continue to retrieve the rest over the weekend.
As a former straight-A student of wards and protective magic, and a teacher of wards during the last school year, I have mastered the necessary spells to protect the school from Fae. I am in the process of repairing the school’s wards so that things will be better than new when you return from vacation.
No need to thank me. I am simply doing everything I can to ensure our glorious school runs smoothly. You will not regret leaving me in charge of the gnome situation. There’s no team player who contributes more than me.
Loyally Yours,
Vega Bloodmire
P.S. I did not recommend Mr. Gordmayer wear aviator goggles on the beach.
During Vega’s first lesson at ten a.m., her students captured five gnomes. Afterward, she found a response from Mrs. Gordmayer. The principal’s answer was brief.
Ms. Bloodmire,
I did not leave you in charge of anything. All I asked of you was to make calls and get estimates. Please report any further plans you have to Ms. Chamapiwa and seek her approval before actualizing those plans.
Principal Gordmayer
P.S. Please explain how someone died during your class.
Vega thought this was the least horrible note she’d gotten from the principal thus far in her life. She wrote back:
Principal Gordmayer,
I thought the student died of a stroke, but on closer inspection, I realized she died of arsenic poisoning. I dropped off her body and her vehicle at the DMV. Don’t worry, I’m looking into the situation. I’ll find out whether she accidentally poisoned herself or someone murdered her.
Yours,
Vega Bloodmire
She restrained herself from mentioning the second dead body. She didn’t want to alarm anyone.
* * *
As Vega chaperoned students having the time of their lives playing gnome roundup, she considered how she was going to repair the school wards. She wanted to prove to Mrs. Gordmayer she was capable of executing complex magical wards. If Vega could prove she was competent and capable, the principal would have to acknowledge Vega’s skills in magic. Demonstrating her dedication to the school and her mature sense of responsibility would be in her favor as well.
But these wards didn’t just take time and energy, the complexity of some of the protective spells required multiple witches. Vega supposed she could ask Mr. Reade, but she already felt bad that she’d bothered him once. Ms. Chamapiwa was a Celestor, and bound to be adept at all kinds of magic, but if Vega told the librarian, there was a chance Ms. Chamapiwa might advise her against it.
Of all the irritating things, Mrs. Gordmayer had wanted Vega to ask for Ms. Chamapiwa’s permission. She treated Vega as if she were still in high school.
If Vega had had friends, she would have asked them for assistance, but she didn’t like people. She tolerated others because they existed. If they stayed out of her way, she didn’t consider them enemies. Those who didn’t annoy her and didn’t die tragically, she considered allies.
But friends were dangerous. They died and left you alone feeling more miserable than before. Vega sighed, thinking of those she had lost.
No, she could not do this to herself. She needed to focus. Her closest ally was Amy, her former roommate. For some reason, Amy was perky and nice.
Vega called her on the magic mirror.
Amy answered at once. “Vega! I’m so glad you called. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”
Amy wore her short blonde hair in two stubby ponytails. As usual, she was wearing pink. She looked like a fourteen-year-old.
Vega sighed. “It’s only been a week, and you’ve managed to undo all the good fashion advice I instilled in you.”
“It’s summer vacation.” Amy waved her off. “Principal Simpson said it’s okay to be casual during summer classes.”
That was because Encantado Charter Academy had no standards. It didn’t mean Amy had to sink to that level.
“Summer is no excuse for dressing informally and looking as if you’re younger than your students.” Vega arched an eyebrow at her. “You are still teaching flyer-education classes, I expect.” The flyer-ed classes that Amy had stolen from Vega.
She tried not to hold it against Amy. The principal at Encantado Charter Academy would have given Vega’s job to someone else anyway. At least it was someone Vega didn’t despise.
“Yeah, I just got done with the first week of classes.” Amy smiled, overly energetic, like someone high on life—or cocaine. “No one ever told me how sore I’d be from so much flying on a broom. How do you do it?”
Vega couldn’t believe how clueless Amy was about flying due to her upbringing among Morties. “Get yourself a bicycle-seat attachment for the first couple weeks until you’ve broken yourself in.”
“That’s a great idea! Do you think they make handlebars for brooms too?”
Wasn’t th
is just like Amy to distract Vega by asking for advice? She didn’t have time for Amy’s banal problems.
Vega plunged on before Amy could derail this conversation. “Amy, you owe me a favor.”
“I do?” Her blonde eyebrows rose in confusion.
“Yes. You have a summer job and a boyfriend because of me.” Vega would have added that Amy dressed classier because of her as well, but unfortunately, all her efforts had been derailed in the last week.
“I suppose that’s true. What can I help you with?” Amy smiled, her expression lacking guile or cunning.
Vega hated to admit her flaws—not that isolating herself from others so their loss wouldn’t hurt her was a weakness—but Amy would see it that way.
“You have something valuable I need. Something I don’t have that I require.” Vega swallowed, her mouth suddenly turning dry. “Friends.”
Vega explained the gnome situation and the protective wards she wanted to establish. After sharing an undersized dorm room with Amy for the majority of the year at Encantado Charter Academy, they had few secrets from each other. At least Amy didn’t have any secrets, but in part that was because she couldn’t keep a secret.
Vega had one very large secret. She wasn’t going to reveal her ghoul lineage to anyone. She had other smaller secrets: her ability to transform into a cat, her proclivities toward necromancy, and her dabbling in forbidden magic.
Amy nodded thoughtfully as Vega told her about her problems.
Amy bit her lip. “I’m not really an expert on protective magic like you are. Are you sure this is the kind of magic anyone can do?”
“It’s not that hard,” Vega said. “More than anything else, it’s time consuming. And it would be easier to implement if I had multiple hands.”
“How many hands do you need?”
“If I had a dozen people, it would probably only take an hour or two.” If it was only a couple of people, it would take all night, but it was possible.
“A coven! You need a coven of witches,” Amy said excitedly. “With twelve, plus you, that will be thirteen. It will be like we’re real witches.”
“You already are a real witch. You have powers you were born into.” Vega still couldn’t get over Amy’s naïveté about all things Witchkin.
Most Witchkin practiced magic without being part of an organized group. Only those without enough power to protect themselves needed to rely on a gathering to ally themselves with. Vega was fully capable of protecting herself and didn’t need to join a collective of old women who liked to dance around naked under full moons.
She preferred to dress fashionably as she danced.
“This will be perfect! There’s magical powers in the number thirteen.” Amy continued, nothing able to burst her optimistic bubble. “I’ve never been part of a coven before! This will be so fun. I’m so glad you asked me to be part of this with you.”
As usual, Amy was missing the point. Vega tapped her foot with impatience. “Do you know eleven people who would be willing to participate? Or do I need to bribe them?”
“I have eleven friends.” Amy rubbed her chin, thinking. “I don’t think you need to bribe them, but it doesn’t hurt to offer an incentive. Remember how our classroom-management textbook talked about offering positive behavior reinforcement? If you make this fun, like a party, I bet it will be easier to get all eleven to show up.”
Vega understood where Amy was going now. A bribery party. “I need to provide alcohol and drugs? I can do that, but inebriated magic users never can be trusted to cast spells correctly. I would have to withhold substances until after they finish with the wards. They have to work for the drugs and alcohol if they want any.” She could see this plan working.
It would be as much a reward for them after finishing the wards as it would be for her. She had earned a night of relaxing and dancing.
“Aren’t we doing this at your school?” Amy’s eyes went wide. “You can’t give people drugs on a high school campus.”
“It’s summer vacation. I thought it was all right to be informal.” Vega eyed Amy’s pink blouse, trying not to show her disdain of this double standard.
“You are trying to get a permanent job there this fall, right? Don’t you think you’d get in trouble if your principal found out?” Amy crossed her arms. “Besides, my friends aren’t going to be incentivized by drugs and alcohol. I was talking about pizza and soda. Or cake. Who doesn’t like cake?”
“What about cigarettes and alcohol?” Vega asked. Nothing could tempt her to join a coven without at least the prospect of liquor.
“Maybe if it isn’t hard alcohol, but think about where you’re going to put all the food. Is this going to be in the staff room?” Amy waved her hands around as she spoke, becoming more flustered as she went on. “Don’t you think the principal will find all the bottles and smell a bunch of booze?”
Leave it to Amy to be a wet blanket. Vega had always been such a selfless roommate, never a killjoy, when it came to Amy’s insipid ideas of fun, but here Amy was, the ultimate party pooper.
Vega supposed she would do things Amy’s way.
* * *
The “party” was planned for nine o’clock, just before sunset that night.
Vega knew throwing a party at Lady of the Lake School for Girls was probably a big no-no, but it seemed like the best solution for fixing the wards. She needed to repair the damage and show the principal how noble and heroic she was—even though she was neither.
If she repaired all damage and erased all evildoings of the gnomes, Mrs. Gordmayer would surely see her value as a teacher. At the very least, she would be less likely to fire Vega for messing things up with GRS. Vega would repair the wards, get rid of the gnomes, and Mrs. Gordmayer would never know how bad the problem had gotten.
She also knew that the principal would most likely be in contact with Ms. Chamapiwa and expected her to get the librarian’s approval before executing any of her brilliant plans.
And it was a brilliant plan. Vega simply needed to convince Ms. Chamapiwa of it.
She wondered if dropping off damaged books at the library had been such a good idea right before she wanted to ask a favor. There was a reason she hadn’t stuck around the library or stopped in to see how they were until now. Librarians could be so quick to judge others when they saw damaged books.
Vega went to the library and found Ms. Chamapiwa at the desk. She looked up as Vega strode through the door.
“There you are, dear. Did gnomes get into your room and damage some of your books?” Ms. Chamapiwa’s brow crinkled up in concern.
She hadn’t just accused Vega of being a negligent book owner. So far, so good.
“They didn’t get into my room, but a potential murderer did.” Vega filled the librarian in, generously sharing all the juicy details.
“Oh dear! Another body.” Ms. Chamapiwa stepped back from the counter, growing downright ashen at the mention of a cadaver. “You’re going to have to put it back into the purse and turn it over to the Witchkin Council.”
“I will, but I can’t while the gnomes are in there. They’ll lick away all the evidence.” Or use their pickaxes on the corpse if Janis Meadowcloud had ingested arsenic.
“Just be sure you take care of the corpse before the principal gets back from vacation. You don’t want her to have an apoplexy about all this.”
Vega tried to remember when the principal was coming back, but she didn’t remember if Mr. Gordmayer had told her. “What day do they return from Hawaii?”
Ms. Chamapiwa ran a hand over one of the books on the counter. “Friday or Saturday—if Allegra doesn’t find a reason to return early. She isn’t much of the vacationing sort.”
Vega thought that was plenty of time to get an estimate from a relocation company, assuming the principal didn’t find fault in the way Vega handled things and returned early.
“I plan to have the school in shipshape before the principal returns s
o that she will see what a responsible and invaluable teacher I am.” She held her chin high, projecting confidence she wished she felt. “Such a good teacher that she’ll want to hire me on for next year.” Such a good teacher that she hoped Ms. Chamapiwa would see how selfless Vega was and report back to the principal what an asset she was to the school.
If all went according to plan, Vega would be able to redeem herself and help future generations learn magic efficiently and safely, so that students knew what they needed to survive to adulthood. Unlike Ruth. And Vincent. And her sister. So many she knew had died. As Vega thought back to her interview, she suspected that her passion for education and her reason for teaching might have been the one attribute the principal had found worthwhile.
And her excellent taste in shoes.
Ms. Chamapiwa nodded.
Vega was encouraged enough by that gesture to go on. “In fact, I’ve been studying the kind of defensive magic schools use against Fae. As a protective wards teacher, I’m certain this is a task I can accomplish. Tonight I’ve invited some friends to help me repair the school wards. I thought I would inform you, so it didn’t alarm you that random people were on the school grounds while a murderer is loose trying to get into the school building.”
Ms. Chamapiwa opened one of the books on the counter. It looked like a medieval manuscript.
Vega couldn’t tell whether Ms. Chamapiwa was distracted by the books or her silence was a sign of disapproval.
“They’re all responsible people. Other teachers and such. Most will be Celestors who can handle advanced magic.” She didn’t actually know enough about Amy’s friends, but if they were anything like her, they would be as much of a buzzkill as she was.
“How did you convince your friends to help you with this task?” Ms. Chamapiwa asked.
