Ghoul Problems

by Sarina Dorie

  Her words stung, mostly because Vega knew they were true. Even a stranger saw her for the monster she was. It was no wonder Vega’s mother had told her she had to stay with her grandmother during most holidays.

  Vega was determined not to let her suffering show.

  She nodded to the girl’s purple hair. “That’s calling the kettle black.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t eat dead people.” A predatory smile laced the girl’s lips. “This is what you’ve been hiding, isn’t it? You didn’t want people to see what you were eating because you like to eat bones from the graveyard. You’re some kind of cannibal. What kind of creature are you?” It wasn’t fear in Jessica’s eyes but revulsion.

  Vega swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. This was Vega’s worst nightmare come true. It was what her mother always warned her against. The only silver lining in this cloud was that this girl didn’t know what Vega was yet if she was asking. That, and her mother had taught her how to diminish the gray from her skin and reduce the smell of death rolling off herself. But all this girl would have to do was look up creatures that ate people in the school library to find out what she was.

  Of course, if Vega got to the library first and checked out all the books about creatures deemed to be dangerous, demonic, or socially unacceptable, there would be nothing left for Jessica to find.

  Vega attempted to push down her panic and behave as though she truly didn’t have any concerns.

  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?” Vega asked. “You aren’t supposed to ask another Witchkin what she is.” Most didn’t like revealing their ancestry, even those who had nothing to be ashamed of.

  “My mother is a Morty.” Jessica crossed her arms.

  Vega struggled for some kind of solution. There had to be a spell for silencing one’s enemies. Technically, cursing and hexing other classmates wasn’t allowed, but it didn’t stop many students from jinxing each other with minor spells that could impede them. On the other hand, that was because that was about all most students could do with their remedial spellwork. Most of the students at the school hadn’t been taught curses by their wicked-witch grandmothers like Vega had.

  Unfortunately, a true curse to make this girl swallow her own tongue was hardly allowed. Nor did Vega particularly want to kill her—she would get kicked out of school if she were caught. A tongue-twister jinx was probably the most practical. Vega didn’t think she had practiced the jinx enough to perform it without the incantation—not with a bone in her mouth anyway. She’d have to spit the bone out and reveal what she had in order to form the words properly.

  Wickedness filled Jessica’s eyes. “I wonder what the other students are going to do when I tell them what you are.”

  Vega couldn’t imagine any way her life could get more horrible than it already was after the months of bullying she’d endured last term with other teenage girls sneaking bacon bits, lard, or morsels of meat into her food to force her to transform. So far, they’d figured out she was a freak they could force to change, but they hadn’t realized what she was.

  Yet the new ways her peers would torment her once they found out would be secondary to what the adults did when they discovered she was a ghoul. She would be kicked out of school, her family disgraced, and her mother’s secret revealed.

  Vega crossed her arms, trying to conceal her panic. “What do you want?” That was how the world worked. People always wanted something.

  “I hear you’re good at Latin.”

  Vega sighed, knowing where this was going.

  “My Latin is adequate.” Vega glanced at the path that headed toward the school. “I need to get back. Fifth period is starting soon. Unlike some people, I don’t cut class.”

  “You’re taking an independent study because you’re so advanced. You’re going to raise my F to an A in Latin class.” Jessica kicked at a tombstone, and a piece of it crumbled away.

  Vega stared in shock at what Jessica had just done. “Watch it. You’re breaking someone’s grave.”

  Jessica kicked at the stone harder. Vega winced. It cracked down the middle. Jessica’s smile was vicious. Vega wished she hadn’t spoken. Jessica probably would have grown bored if she hadn’t known Vega cared about the headstones here.

  Vega looked away, pretending she didn’t care as she retrieved her tray. “Mr. Reade isn’t stupid. It’s going to be obvious you’re cheating if suddenly every assignment you turn in is perfect.” Discreetly, she spat the bone into her palm and clutched it as she walked away.

  Something cracked behind Vega, and she willed herself not to turn and stare in horror at whoever’s tombstone Jessica had defaced now.

  “Good point.” Jessica trailed after her. “I don’t need an A anyway, just a passing grade.”

  Vega wished she had kept her mouth shut and allowed Jessica to get caught. She was now stuck doing her own homework and someone else’s. Vega’s shoulders slumped in resignation until she remembered she was a Bloodmire. Her grandmother was the Witch of Nightmares.

  Vega had conquered her bullies in the past. She would do so again. she just needed to figure out how.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Past—Vega’s Freshman Year: Survival 101

  The first thing Vega did to outwit her enemy was perform a tongue-twister jinx. She cast the spell on her way to class, drawing the spell in the air as she walked.

  If Jessica tried to talk about seeing Vega in the graveyard—or what she’d said Vega had tried to eat—she would only speak gibberish. It wasn’t a foolproof method. Someone could ask Jessica yes or no questions. She could still nod and shake her head. Someone patient could ask enough using process of elimination to figure it out.

  Worse yet, Jessica could look up the clues in a book and show it to other students.

  Vega had to get to the library. But there was no time if she was to make it to Advanced Potions. The principal had awarded her a seat in that class even though she was only a freshman. Vega didn’t want to get kicked out. She needed advanced classes so that she could always be one step above her enemies. Also, she was better than remedial classes.

  Vega rushed to the cafeteria to dispose of her tray before hastening to fifth period. The entire time she was in class she was distracted, thinking how a student like Jessica who had no problem cutting class was probably checking out all the books with incriminating details before Vega could get to them.

  Sixth period was Vega’s independent study with Mr. Reade. She just had to make it until then. He would allow her to go to the library. Perspiration soaked her shirt, making it stick to her back. She watched the clock incessantly. She was so distracted, she misread the directions on the potion she was making to see a vision of her true love.

  “Tsk,” the old crone of a teacher said as she shuffled by. “The mushrooms are to be diced, not minced.” Ms. Suarez turned her disapproving gaze on Vega. One of her eyes was brown, the other pale silver.

  Vega always had the feeling her potions teacher could see into her thoughts when she turned that eye on her.

  Vega stared down at the knife in her hand about to slide practically pulverized red-and-white fly agaric fungi into her cauldron. She froze, realizing she had almost ruined her potion.

  “Oh, no! May I have another?” Vega gazed longingly at the tray of supplies on the table next to the teacher’s desk.

  “No, you may not,” Ms. Suarez said vehemently, clumps of her straggly white hair swinging from side to side as she shook her head. “I only have enough for one mushroom per person. If you want another, you’ll have to collect it yourself on your own time and perform the spell again.”

  Vega set her cutting board down. “But I already started. What about the rest of the ingredients?”

  Ms. Suarez arched a white eyebrow upward. “I suppose you’re going to have to make your own rose water, gather your own lavender, and wade through the swamp for your own leeches, won’t you, dear? I doubt you will make this mistake
again, will you?”

  No, Vega would not.

  “It looks like someone isn’t going to be seeing visions of her true love,” Malisha Bane tittered from behind Vega.

  Other girls in the class giggled.

  Vega turned and glared. She wanted to slap that smile off her classmate’s face. She didn’t care about seeing a vision of her true love’s face. She just wanted to get an A+++.

  “Ms. Suarez! My cauldron is boiling over!” another teenager in the class called.

  Ms. Suarez hobbled away, leaning on her cane to get herself across the room.

  Vega slumped into her seat, reading her textbook and doing her homework. The clock slowly crawled toward the end of the period. She thought about what her mother would do to her if she outed the entire family. Her father would probably disown them, as her mother had always suggested he would do if he discovered what they were. Vega slumped lower in her chair. She couldn’t believe how stupid she had been to let herself get caught in the graveyard. She should have used magic to test the forest for the presence of one of her classmates.

  More importantly, she shouldn’t have put that bone in her mouth. She shouldn’t have tempted herself by going to the graveyard, trying to prove to herself how strong-willed she was when she wasn’t. Probably she shouldn’t have saved the bone either, but she didn’t want to throw it away in the school trash for Jessica to dig it out later.

  Instead, she’d tucked it between the pages of her Latin book to save until she was alone.

  Vega rushed to sixth period, snatching up the passes to the library from the teacher’s desk, and filling out her name on the pad of paper. Mr. Reade always allowed her to study in the library whenever she wanted so that she didn’t have to listen to him explain word order difference between English and foreign languages, grammar, or the case system that most freshmen still couldn’t grasp. Vega was certain that when she had learned Latin at the age of seven, she had somehow had a better understanding than the fifteen-year-olds in her class.

  Mr. Reade, a middle-aged man with brown hair and glasses over his owlish eyes, shook his head at Vega. “Not today. We have a special guest coming in.” His smile broadcast his enthusiasm.

  “Mr. Reade, I need to go to the library.” Vega eyed her classmates shuffling through the door and taking their seats. She didn’t see Jessica. She lowered her voice. “I have to get some library books. It’s a matter of life or death.”

  “Everything is always so dramatic to you teenagers!” He laughed and shook his head in exasperation. “I’m certain the library will still be there during passing time or after school. But today’s presenter will be talking about one of your favorite subjects, and you won’t want to miss it!”

  “What?” Vega stared at him in horror. Was he talking about corpses? Death? Fantasies involving slow and painful deaths of her enemies? How did he know those were her favorite topics?

  His smile faltered. “What’s wrong? Weren’t you just saying last week it was too bad students couldn’t hear a native speaker of Latin? I invited a friend of mine who lives in the Faerie Realm to visit. And he’s going to speak to the class about the practical application of Latin for Witchkin career paths! All in Latin!” His enthusiasm bubbled over as he talked about his favorite subject.

  “Oh yes, right.” Vega forgot that Mr. Reade, for some reason, thought she was a decent human being—and one who liked Latin as much as he did.

  Vega trudged to her seat. The entire world seemed to be thwarting her every attempt to save her reputation. She considered taking the restroom pass and going to the library, but there was no way she could gather all the books with incriminating descriptions of her people in that amount of time. If only time-slowing spells weren’t so complex that they were banned for student use at the school on account of all those accidents that happened when incompetent students used them.

  Vega’s grandmother used time magic. Baba had taught her plenty of advanced spells. How hard could it be?

  With nothing else to do, Vega settled into her chair for the presentation.

  Mr. Reade’s guest speaker, Adorjan Cicero, was a Merlin-class Celestor—a trained Witchkin with an affinity in star magic. Not only were celestial abilities one of the most difficult to master, using stars for divination, clairvoyance, and protective wards, but his Merlin-class status meant he was a master of these skills.

  Despite the direness of Vega’s situation, she felt a moment of excitement to meet an actual Merlin-class Celestor. The only person in the school with that status was the principal—and she wasn’t an approachable matron who welcomed personal questions.

  Mr. Cicero’s ears were pointed, poking out of his yellow hair. The light hue of his hair contrasted sharply with the dark blue of his skin, highlighting his otherworldly features. He was striking for being an older man. From the sparkle of glamour surrounding him, Vega suspected he camouflaged his true age—or unsightly blemishes.

  As the guest speaker cheerfully droned on in Latin, Vega considered the skills in her arsenal of spells that she could use on the latest idiot bully in her life trying to make her existence more miserable than it already was. There were three possibilities that Vega had to prepare for:

  Jessica would remain ignorant of Vega’s ghoulish ancestry—and pose no real threat.

  Jessica would find out but be happy bullying her into doing menial tasks for her like homework.

  Or Jessica would put the clues together and expose Vega.

  It was only the latter scenario that posed a problem.

  Mr. Reade walked between rows of students, whispering to the ones who were trying to sleep or pass notes. Vega tried to at least look attentive, even if her thoughts were elsewhere. She probably would have been interested in analyzing the cadence of a natural speaker’s dialect if she had been able to focus. Mr. Cicero wove in and out of Latin with ease, his second language of English so smooth and natural she wouldn’t have known his native tongue was the father of romance languages.

  When Mr. Reade laughed and spoke in Latin next to her desk, including her name in his sentence, her ears pricked up.

  “Oh? A star pupil?” Mr. Cicero asked in Latin. “Go ahead, ask me a question about the presentation. But I hesitate to correct anyone’s grammar. That’s Mr. Reade’s job, not mine!”

  Vega tried to infer from the snippets she had heard what she could ask. It was obvious Mr. Reade wanted her to show off her skills.

  She responded in Latin. “I do not have questions. You covered all topics I would ask.”

  “No questions at all?” The man’s yellow eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I only spoke about three career paths for bilingual graduates. Don’t you want to know about other jobs available?”

  Vega understood the man wanted her to ask a question so he could hear himself speak. She had seen this before—mostly from her father.

  She inclined her head in thanks without breaking the cardinal rule of Witchkin and thanking him—that would mean she owed a favor. “It is so kind of you to share your time with us today. Please tell us more about jobs proficient speakers can expect to find.” The foreign language rolled off her tongue with practiced ease.

  A few girls in the class rolled their eyes like Vega was showing off.

  One of the freshmen in the class behind Vega whispered in English. “How about jobs for Latin speakers who don’t want to be Catholic priests?”

  Mr. Reade didn’t act as though he had heard the comment. He nodded at Vega, clearly pleased she had enough skills to ask a question in Latin.

  The man continued.

  “This doesn’t just apply to Latin, but all your foreign language studies. Being proficient in more than one language opens career pathways for you. You can live anywhere you like with greater freedom.”

  “Anywhere?” Charlotte Winters said, crossing her arms. “Knowing Latin isn’t going to save someone from getting abducted and enslaved in the Faerie Realm.”

  Cha
rlotte was fair, with corn-silk hair and blue eyes. She was an obvious ice or snow affinity, even if her last name didn’t give it away. Surnames like Frost and Winters were as common among ice affinities as Murphy and O’Sullivan were among leprechauns.

  Mr. Reade’s smile faded as he stepped toward Charlotte. Vega expected him to chide the girl. Instead, concern filled his eyes as he crouched beside the other student’s desk, saying something softly that Vega couldn’t hear.

  “It’s true, Latin probably isn’t going to save you from being snatched.” Mr. Cicero ran a hand through his yellow hair. “But if you decide to live in a village in the Unseen Realm or one of the larger cities in the Faerie Realm, knowing multiple languages is going to make you savvier and more aware of your surroundings.”

  Tears filled Charlotte’s eyes. “Right. Tell that to the Geamhradh.”

  Vega knew that was the name of a Fae court, but she couldn’t remember which one.

  Charlotte left her seat, snatched up the hall pass, and sniffled as she exited. Vega wished she’d thought of that—feigning tears to get out of class.

  “The best use of your Latin now is mastering it to help you with spells,” Mr. Reade said with his usual enthusiasm for language. “You’re going to advance in your studies and be able to read and translate more accurately if you can conquer the basics. Foreign language is a foundational skill for every graduate. It will help you create better wards of protection, and that will keep you safer from Fae and Witchkin who would do you harm.”

  Any skill that helped one learn more magic to protect oneself was welcome in Vega’s mind.

  Mr. Cicero nodded. “I had to master multiple languages, just like you are learning now. I remember when I was learning French, I mispronounced one of the words as I was reciting a spell in front of everyone and accidentally turned my nose into a carrot. It was quite embarrassing.” He laughed.

  “I think I remember!” Mr. Reade said, patting his guest speaker on the back. “Old Mr. Cheval said he would leave your nose that way until you mastered the proper pronunciation. Whatever happened to our old teacher? Is he still at Merlin’s Academy for Boys? Or has he retired?”