It wasn’t his real name, of course. He’d come up with it back when he’d first started advertising his mystic services online, since people were far more willing to take “Lee Amaranth” seriously than his birth name, “Eldon Brock.” Potentially, they could still trace his pseudonym back to him, but it wasn’t as though Lee actually planned on committing any crimes other than trespassing. The slight insulation the false identity gave him from whatever mischief he got himself into would probably be enough.
“I am Lead Instructor Mattis,” said the woman. “I handle admissions for all new initiates. I’ll add you to the provisional list, Lee.”
She shook his hand, giving it a surprisingly strong squeeze, and looked up toward the sky. The weather was overcast, but she seemed to read something in the clouds, almost in the same way a regular person might check a pocket watch.
“Hmmm, the hour does approach,” said Mattis. “There’s no point in sending you back to the lodge. You may wait here with me for now, Lee Amaranth.”
“Thanks,” he said.
He wasn’t sure what to say. Asking too many direct questions about Zoe might give his ruse away. Asking questions about the university itself, in the same vein, might reveal that he was suspiciously ignorant of some critical piece of information or obvious fact that he would have otherwise known.
He rubbed his hands against his cold ears again and took in his surroundings. As his eyes passed across the wall surrounding the campus, Lee saw something that made him suck in a quick breath.
Ghosts tend to stand out when seen through a mystic’s eyes. This one caught Lee’s attention instantly. It was the ghost of a girl in a wide, flowing dress, walking along the top of the wall, gazing down at the snow below.
His palms went clammy as his mind immediately jumped to the obvious conclusion. But no, it wasn’t Zoe. The ghost had long hair, while his sister had always kept hers short. Zoe had been unusually tall for a girl, but the ghost had a petite figure.
Mattis frowned at Lee and followed his gaze upward. Part of him had been expecting the mages of Primhaven to have some sort of secret skill for mimicking his own ability and sensing spooks, but if such a thing was possible, it wasn’t an extension of the Lead Instructor’s talents.
“What is it?” asked Mattis. “Did you see something on the wall?”
Lee opened his mouth, but before he could answer, a girlish giggle came from above, followed by a large clump of snow being dislodged. Mattis was quick enough to get partially out of the way, but some of the snow still struck her on the shoulder. The giggles turned into a full, rolling laugh, high-pitched, like a beautiful bell. Lee couldn’t resist letting out a chuckle of his own as he glanced up at the petite ghost and saw the way she was grinning and leaning over the wall’s lip.
“Do you find the falling snow amusing?” asked Mattis.
Her tone was challenging, but not sharp or incisive. Lee shrugged and tried to ignore the awkwardness left in the wake of the moment as Mattis brushed snow out of her hood. Luckily, he didn’t have to endure it for long. A group of thirteen people slowly began making their way out of Gillum and up the gravel path toward Primhaven. They were all more appropriately dressed for the weather than he was, and it seemed as though at least some of them knew each other already.
There was another aspect about them that stood out to Lee, as someone who’d spent most of his adult life reading the posture and body language of both people and ghosts. They all looked resolved, almost as though they were heading into battle and were each wearing their guarded emotions in their stances.
A tall man on the far left of the group walked with an indignant air about him, chest puffed out, chin held high. A shorter teenager had his hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped, despair visible in the way his gaze stayed locked on the snow in front of him.
Most of them were around Lee’s age, but there were a few outliers. A plump woman in a heavy white winter coat looked to be in her early thirties, and there was a boy who couldn’t have been older than twelve or thirteen, based on his body proportions.
As the group closed the last few feet, a cute girl with strands of auburn hair poking out of her pink coat came to stand next to Lee. He gave her a nod, and she returned a smile.
“Did you just arrive?” she whispered. “I haven’t seen you in town.”
“Yeah,” said Lee. “Very last-minute. Lee Amaranth.”
“Eliza Willis,” said the girl.
They didn’t have time to exchange more than their names, as Lead Instructor Mattis was already clearing her throat and gesturing for silence. Two of the new arrivals, apparently also instructors rather than students, had joined her on either side.
“Welcome to the Primhaven University of Arcane Arts and Magical Sciences,” said Mattis. “As I’m sure many of you already know, Primhaven has served as an alternative academic institution for magically gifted students outside of the traditional education loop. I see no need to beat around the bush. You’re all here because you’re either too old, have special needs, behavioral concerns, or various other mitigating factors.”
Mattis slowly let her gaze drift across the group. Lee found it extremely hard to hold eye contact with her. He opted to look back up at the wall instead, searching for the pretty ghost he’d seen before but not finding her.
“Simply put, this is the end of the line.” Mattis let out a tired, somewhat vulnerable sigh. “In recent years, the Order of Chaldea has become deeply concerned about the danger presented by untrained, uneducated mages outside of their control. Those of you who fail the admissions test or wash out during the academic semester before achieving disciple status will be forced to undergo the Cropping.”
A murmur passed through the group, despite Mattis’s intensity. Lee frowned and leaned his head in close to Eliza.
“The Cropping?” he whispered. “What the hell does that mean?”
Eliza didn’t answer him with words. She turned and met his eyes, mouth open, face pale, and shook her head slightly.
It was in that moment that Lee remembered one of the other important lessons he’d learned in his time as a freelance mystic. There are certain questions that you should always, always say no to.
CHAPTER 3
The hair on the back of Lee’s neck stood up straight, and it wasn’t because of the cold. The other two instructors who’d initially been standing with Mattis at the beginning of her speech had moved to position themselves behind and on either side of the group. It didn’t take much guesswork for him to figure out that they were intentionally penning the potential initiates in, ready to swoop on any of them that tried to run.
“Tell me,” Lee hissed to Eliza. “What does it mean to go through the Cropping?”
Eliza was about to answer when the instructor standing nearest to Lee held a finger up to her lips and shushed them into silence. The instructor was a surprisingly young blonde woman, tall and curvaceous, beautiful to the point that it was almost annoying. Next to her, Lead Instructor Mattis had taken a list out of her jacket and was carefully examining it.
“I will call you forward in the order of your initial arrival,” she said. “Kristoff Gusman, you will be first.”
The tall young man Lee had seen walking with puffed-up confidence earlier strode forward. He was closer to him in age than he’d initially thought, probably within a year or two of Lee, just out of high school.
“To answer the question that I’m sure you all have on the tips of your tongues, yes, my father is the great Olaf Gusman,” said Kristoff. “The only reason I’m at this frozen shithole is because of the recent change in policy by the Order of Chaldea on accepting home-schooled students. I am as capable in my spellcraft as any of the alumni of Stonepath Academy.”
“That’s quite enough,” said Mattis. “The test is simple, Kristoff. Please demonstrate a basic spell from one of the five primary schools of magic. Elemental, nature, conjuration, illusion, or alteration.”
“Can I cast one from each?�
� Kristoff let out a forced laugh. “I suppose there’s no need.”
He held his arms out in front of him in what almost looked like a combat stance, a way of standing that would have fit easily into a fluid, momentum-based martial art. Then, Kristoff exhaled, whispering something under his breath as he shot an arm forward, palm first. A small plume of flame burst forth harmlessly into the open air, similar to a blast from a flamethrower.
Kristoff grinned and took a bow. Lee couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He watched as Kristoff took a single step toward the university’s gate before proceeding to fall head over heels as his foot slipped on the ice. A tiny giggle came from behind Lee, and he looked over his shoulder to see the petite ghost girl holding her hands over her mouth.
“Very good, Kristoff,” said Mattis. “That is acceptable. And in the future, watch your step while walking outside of the university. The ice is treacherous.”
Kristoff swore under his breath as he rose to his feet. Mattis continued down the list, calling another student forward. It was the older woman, who gave a resolved nod and made her way forward without hesitation.
Outside of a few words spoken by the Lead Instructor and each of the potential students taking the test, the area outside the university was silent. The howl of the icy wind was the only ambient noise, and it fit Lee’s mood perfectly, as his intuition caught up with the situation in which he’d placed himself.
He couldn’t cast any spells, and it wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried before. When Zoe had first discovered that she had the Potential at the tender age of 12, Lee’s childish envy had pushed him to attempt to follow in her footsteps.
He just didn’t have it in him, which he’d come to consider to be a blessing after a while. Mystics were exceedingly rare in the supernatural world, seemingly ignored and overlooked by the Order of Chaldea. He’d never had to disguise his abilities or think of the consequences of applying them for his own gain, given how minor and benign they were. Up until that moment, there’d never been a situation when he’d felt like he actually needed the power to cast arcane spells.
“Toma Fujino,” said Mattis.
A few others had been called up while Lee had been lost in his thoughts, and they’d all managed a spell without much trouble. The next in line to take the test, the teenager named Toma Fujino, seemed to drag his feet as he made his way forward.
“Uh, alright,” he muttered. “A spell. Just need to cast a spell.”
He rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath. Lee caught a glimpse of Toma’s face and immediately felt a stab of sympathy. There were deep bags under the boy’s eyes from lack of sleep, and his brow was heavily furrowed.
“Whenever you’re ready, Toma,” said Mattis.
Toma nodded his head. He assumed a different casting stance than Lee had seen from the others, bringing his hands up to either side of his face almost like blinders. He continued taking loud breaths, sucking in air and coughing slightly as he exhaled. A vein became visible in his forehead, and Toma made a low, grunting noise.
“The goal is to cast a spell, not shit your pants,” called Kristoff.
Toma’s face turned bright red, and he lost his footing as though someone had physically pushed him. Lee found himself rooting for him as he started over, setting his hands into his casting stance and putting every ounce of his will into the act of casting his spell.
His grunting grew even louder. Kristoff made another joke which set a few of the students who’d already passed their exam into a raucous round of laughter. Toma ignored it this time, and after a few more seconds, a tiny sphere of light appeared in front of him, no larger than a marble, but glowing bright.
“There!” gasped Toma. He fell forward onto his knees. “Is… is that enough?”
Lead Instructor Mattis sighed.
“Yes, that should do,” she said. “This only gives you Initiate status, Toma. You’ll need to make a significant amount of progress moving forward, if…”
She didn’t finish her sentence, which brought the Cropping and whatever it entailed back to the front of Lee’s awareness. The way Toma broke into desperate, almost addled-sounding laughter as he made his way over to stand in line by the gate only further emphasized the stakes.
Lee turned to Eliza, interested in getting a genuine answer out of her concerning what happened if—when—he failed the admissions test. She was already stepping forward in anticipation of her own test, however.
“Eliza Willis,” said Lead Instructor Mattis.
Eliza only took the time to pull her hood back before crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a quick exhale. A shimmering field of blue energy composed of tiny, glowing spheres began spinning around her, causing her hair to flutter, and preventing the windblown snow from getting any closer to her. It was even more impressive than Kristoff’s casual display of talent, and Lee wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“Impressive,” said Kristoff. “You’re probably the best here, outside of myself.”
“That’s more than enough, Eliza,” said Mattis. “Thank you.”
Eliza looked visibly relieved as she let her spell subside. She held a hand over her heart and made her way to join the line on shaky legs. Lee rubbed his sweaty palms together. It was just him and one other potential initiate left.
“David Johnson,” said Lead Instructor Mattis.
The teenager standing next to Lee took a step back, shaking his head.
“I… I can’t,” he said. “Please! I didn’t choose to be here. My magic doesn’t work like the others, it’s only when I’m angry!”
“David,” said Mattis. “You need to take the test.”
“But I’ll fail it!” he shouted. “I know I will! Then you’ll force me to undergo the Cropping, and I’ll forget my brothers, my dad. Damn it, even the girl I love is associated with the Order.”
“Harper, if you would,” said Mattis.
The blonde, female instructor that had been standing behind Lee pushed her way by him. She held one hand out, grasping at her wrist with the other, and sharply exhaled. A set of purple bindings appeared around David’s wrists and began dragging him forward. Lee’s anxiety got the better of him and he couldn’t help but ask the crucial question.
“What’s he talking about?” he asked. “What does the Cropping do to a person?”
Surprisingly, Harper was the one that replied. She had intense blue eyes, as cold as the snow and the ice, and she let them settle on Lee for an instant while still maintaining the spell that held David.
“How is it that you don’t know already?” she asked.
Lee shook his head, not liking the way Harper’s gaze narrowed in suspicion. She wasn’t that much older than he was, maybe in her mid-twenties, and scarily beautiful in the way that only a few lucky women are.
“It’s a necessary precaution,” said Mattis. “There is no way to truly remove the Potential from a mage. The Cropping is a regiment of dream weaving, illusion magic, that selectively destroys certain parts of a person’s memory.”
“You’re saying you can make someone forget that they can cast magic?” asked Lee.
“It’s a… broader process than that,” said Mattis.
“The Cropping removes any memory even tangentially related to the supernatural,” said Harper, in a flat voice. “You’ll forget everything you know about Primhaven, magic, and any memories you have of any mage you’ve encountered. Regardless of whether they’re friends, family, or minor acquaintances.”
Lee’s hands went to his head even as he tried to stifle his reaction. For five years, he’d searched for Zoe and made barely any progress. He was so close now, so fucking close, and he’d put himself in a situation where he’d end up quite literally forgetting all about her.
He’d come looking for closure, and the version of it he was about to get was like having his heart ripped out.
CHAPTER 4
David Johnson’s test involved a significant amount of begging, screaming, and outrigh
t sobbing. Lee only managed to watch for about five seconds before looking away, though he wasn’t the only one. Most of the initiates who’d passed the test turned their attention elsewhere. Kristoff, however, had a sadistic grin on his face as he watched the turmoil of David’s failure, as though it confirmed something fundamental to his worldview.
“Instructor Constantine, if you would?” said Mattis.
“No!” shouted David. “Please! Just let me go! I promise I won’t use my magic. It’ll be like, like…like…”
The other Instructor, a bald, aged man with a thin build, held his hands up on either side of his face. He exhaled, and David stumbled in mid-sentence, his eyes closing as he collapsed to the ground.
“What did you do to him?” shouted Lee.
“He’s just asleep,” said Mattis. “Instructor Constantine will work the dream weaving over the next few hours, and David will be sent to some of his distant relatives. He’ll go on to lead a normal life. He’s actually kind of lucky.”
Lucky? Lee wanted to throw up. It wasn’t lucky, it wasn’t even fair. He rubbed his fingers against his temples, trying to focus on his breathing. He couldn’t handle the idea of forgetting about Zoe.
What would that even mean in terms of what he’d lose? All the situations where she’d gone out of her way to protect him when they’d been bouncing around foster homes. The time when she’d literally refused to let go of him when the social workers had attempted to move them to separate families, thousands of miles apart.
Zoe had risked it all by running away with him, using her wits and occasionally her magic to get them back into school in a new district. She had faked the existence of their grandparents with clever optical and audio illusions, stolen food for them with telekinesis. She had taken care of him, had all but revealed herself to the Order of Chaldea in doing so, which was why she’d had to leave for Primhaven in the first place.
Lee wanted to cry. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d cried, but he was on the verge of it now.
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