Ghoul Problems

by Sarina Dorie

  Vega attempted to keep the panic from her face. She feigned indifference and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  She was aware of the eyes of the nearest girls on her.

  “You’re a. . . .” Jessica drew out the words, snaring Vega with anticipation. “Black Anus. She changed into an animal, just like you do.”

  Vega’s mouth moved before she could correct herself. “I think you mean Black Annis.” She couldn’t keep the disdain from her voice. Vega hardly looked like a blue-faced hag. Though that particular monster from British folklore liked human flesh, she mostly preferred children. She didn’t specifically crave bones.

  Jessica leaned forward, her voice conspiratorial. “Or part Pishachas.” Jessica said.

  Vega squinted at her, trying to figure out if she was joking. That was a monster from Vedic mythology. They ate the living and the dead. But they didn’t turn into any kind of animal. Jessica was just guessing. She hadn’t done any kind of research. This was an entirely new kind of adversary Vega wasn’t used to dealing with—a stupid one.

  How could Vega outwit someone who wasn’t capable of intelligent scheming? She was expected to lower herself to try to outwit the cogitations of an imbecile.

  Jessica must have mistaken Vega’s lack of panic as an invitation to keep guessing. “Or a Nidhogg?”

  Vega was most definitely not a Scandinavian serpent who tore corpses apart. But she could see that Jessica’s ignorance gave her an advantage. If Vega played her cards right, she could misdirect Jessica.

  “You’re part . . . kishi?” Jessica’s eyebrows raised, making her look like a student who hadn’t studied and had been called on in class, hoping to get the right answer.

  Vega was not a two-faced demon with a hyena on the back of her head. However, she had to pretend to be something to throw Jessica off her true tracks.

  “Oh no!” Vega said, attempting to look distressed. “How did you figure it out? What book gave me away?”

  “Books?” Jessica snorted. “Why would I look in a book? I used a magic mirror and asked what kind of creature eats bones.”

  “But magic mirrors aren’t allowed at school.” Vega stabbed her fork into her salad, some of her appetite returning as she realized the worst of the danger had passed. “You could get expelled for having a magic mirror.”

  They were banned because too many students used them to cheat on exams. It was silly, really. Students could still cheat in other ways, like divining the answers, using spells for clairvoyance to read the teacher’s or classmates’ minds, or to use magic to spy in other ways. Then again, these were advanced skills that only witches with superior abilities possessed. Students who could divine the answer probably didn’t need to do so because they were more advanced than other students.

  Jessica smirked. “It’s only breaking the rules if you get caught.”

  “Right.” Vega would be sure to remind Jessica of that one later—after she had bested this wannabe tyrant.

  Jessica drew a red notebook out of her bag and tossed it on the table beside Vega’s plate. “My Latin assignments are in there for you to work on. I have twenty missing papers, but if you do half of them, that should bring me up to a passing grade. And remember not to do it perfectly or else Mr. Reade will know—like you said.”

  Vega wished she hadn’t clued Jessica in on that detail. “Very well. I will do my best to dumb down your assignments so that it appears you have written them yourself.”

  Jessica started in on her pudding, apparently too clueless to realize she’d been insulted. Vega almost felt bad for her.

  Almost.

  Vega stirred the dressing around in her salad. “If this is going to work, I’ll need a sample of your handwriting so I can attempt to imitate your penmanship.”

  “Great idea!” Jessica retrieved another book from her bag and tossed it next to the first one.

  “You do realize this isn’t going to help you pass the final exam at the end of the semester.” Vega flipped through the book full of chicken-scratch handwriting. Her spelling truly was atrocious. Vega couldn’t even make out what some of the letters were. She couldn’t tell whether some of them were ancient Roman or were English and backward. “You’d actually have to study to show competency in the subject.”

  “That isn’t a problem.” Jessica closed her eyes, savoring Vega’s pudding. “Someone has already appropriated a copy of the answer key.”

  Vega sighed, pretending to be forlorn. “I’ll do whatever it takes so that you don’t spread gossip about my secrets.”

  She accepted the notebook, trying hard to disguise her smile. She knew exactly how she was going to outwit her foe.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Who Needs Latin Anyway?

  Vega determined she would not start Jessica’s Latin homework right away. Jessica hadn’t given her a deadline, and there was no way Vega was going to put a bully’s homework before her own—even if she was itching to get started on her plan for revenge.

  Vega first went to the forest and collected ingredients for the potion she had messed up earlier that day, brewed it in the unlocked potions room, and bottled it. Because she hadn’t demonstrated it in class, she wasn’t able to divine the face of her true love. Nor did she have time to waste on such novelties. That potion alone had cost her two hours.

  She studied astronomy and astrology for half an hour and practiced magical wards for class—and because there was nothing more important than wards to protect a Witchkin from her enemies.

  Jessica hadn’t even mentioned the tongue-twister jinx. It could be that she’d constructed wards to protect herself or burned through the magic with a superior spell—or coerced someone else to do so. On the other hand, Jessica might not have even thought of trying to see if she could repeat what she’d seen Vega do. Or she could be pretending to have constructed a ward so Vega would think she couldn’t twist her tongue with a jinx in an elaborate mind game meant to keep Vega guessing.

  Vega kept expecting Jessica’s denseness to fall away and a calculating and cunning adversary to emerge. But perhaps not everyone was genius-level nemesis material. It was entirely possible she truly hadn’t thought very far ahead.

  For one thing, Jessica hadn’t considered what kind of incriminating things Vega would say in her homework assignments for Latin class.

  Assignment 1: Write a two-paragraph essay on someone in the Witchkin community whom you admire. Remember, this needs to be written in Latin. Spelling and grammar count.

  Vega grinned in delight, knowing exactly who to write about.

  I would like to write about the person I most admire, the Raven Queen. She is the most powerful Fae in all the realms, and out of all the courts, has the greatest-sized kingdom. She is known for instigating many crimes in the Faerie Realm against Fae, kidnappings in the Unseen Realm upon Witchkin, and even abductions in the Morty Realm of humans when she can get away with it. I love how sneaky and cunning she is. I wish I was powerful enough I could get away with such deeds.

  Vega listed the heinous queen’s many crimes, including plenty of reasonable errors and mistranslations along the way. There was a certain liberation in writing so freely about a topic without anyone knowing she was the one saying these things. Queen Morgaine, for all the atrocities she had committed in the thousands of years she had reigned, had established one of the strongest armies. She had controlled others through fear and squashed down her enemies before they could rise up against her. The Raven Queen was horrible, but she was also supreme. It was too bad the essay was only two paragraphs, not two pages.

  Vega wished people feared her as much as they feared the Raven Queen—or at least enough to leave her alone. She could never have said that in one of her own papers, but she didn’t hold back here.

  She concluded the essay with:

  I can only hope I will be lucky enough to work for her one day.

  She took great satisfaction in the two paragraphs she had written, e
ven managing to slip remedial mistakes in the text. It was one of the most creative papers she had written all semester. Imitating Jessica’s horrible handwriting was visually painful, but Vega suspected she created a tolerable impersonation.

  Assignment 2: Translate a spell or potion from English into Latin that will help you in one of your other classes. Remember to say which class and how this will better your skills as a witch. This reflection also needs to be written completely in Latin.

  Vega transcribed a spell she had memorized from one of her grandmother’s books, one that would be forbidden in the school. It was titled, “How to Crush Your Enemies and Destroy People.” Vega had considered using it on someone last semester—a bully who had deserved it—but if she had been caught, she would have gotten kicked out of school. The incriminating spell came in handy now.

  Vega concluded that essay with:

  This will help me in all my classes because I have made so many enemies from blackmailing them into doing my homework for me that I need to crush them to keep them in their place. I will use people’s personal information to further my own gain and use spells like this to ensure I survive in this Witchkin eat Witchkin world.

  This was too easy. Especially since she doubted Jessica was going to know enough Latin to even guess at what Vega was saying. In order to not get caught, Vega threw in a realistic amount of errors.

  Assignment 3: What is a magical talisman or object that can help a Witchkin in her studies?

  Vega snorted. She couldn’t believe how easy the beginning-level assignments were compared to her own. And the topics couldn’t have been more perfect to suit her needs.

  A Witchkin needs to do anything she can to survive. My personal motto is “Work smarter, not harder.” A magic mirror like the one I hide in my personal items so I can use it to see the answers on tests is essential for students to succeed. Although having a stolen answer key for foreign language exams is helpful as well.

  Each assignment Vega wrote slandering her enemy brought her more pleasure than the last.

  * * *

  Vega pretended she hadn’t finished three days later when Jessica demanded whether Vega was done.

  “I need more time. This is so much work.” Vega did her best to cower and look submissive—neither of which she felt. She tried to hide her pleasure at seeing Jessica get mad. This was too much fun.

  “If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to tell the entire school that you snickerdoodled in a pen cabinet.” Jessica’s purple eyebrows drew together in confusion.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” Vega asked innocently. The tongue-twister jinx had worked perfectly; Jessica’s words were garbled gibberish.

  Jessica’s face turned bright pink, and her voice rose in agitation. “I’m going to tell Principal Gordmayer that you kicked the soprano’s beeswax practices.”

  Two girls passed by in the hallway, glancing at Jessica, who kicked at the wall. They whispered to each other, their eyes full of wicked delight. It amazed Vega how quickly teenagers took morbid satisfaction in someone else’s misery.

  Not that she could exclude herself from that sentiment. It felt quite satisfying to have the tables turned and for Jessica to know Vega had outsmarted her—at least on one front.

  “Oh, I see.” Vega hid her grin under her hand as she pretended to cough. “In that case, it sounds like I had better hurry up and get that journal to you.”

  * * *

  Vega gave Jessica the journal the next day. Her new nemesis actually showed up during class to turn in her missing work. Vega pretended she didn’t notice Jessica’s whining at Mr. Reade’s desk as he prepared lessons for class.

  “Can’t you just grade it now?” Jessica said. “I need my grade to go up before the progress report is sent home.”

  Mr. Reade shook his head, his expression paternal and kind. “I’m sorry, but I have attendance to take and then a class to teach. I’ll update your grade as soon as I can.”

  Vega couldn’t understand how Mr. Reade could be so unconditionally nice—he didn’t even know Jessica. She rarely came to class. She didn’t deserve his compassion.

  Jessica crossed her arms. “It isn’t fair. I saw you grade someone else’s work when she brought it to you a minute ago.”

  “That wasn’t an essay. It was a parent signature slip and only required a checkmark. Please take a seat and join the class. I hope you will stay with us all class and work on today’s assignment. After class, I will be happy to grade what I can during passing time.”

  Vega wondered whether Mr. Reade ever got a break from students during passing time. He was a Celestor with powerful magic that could aid in antiaging; if he looked like he was in his forties, he probably was older. She glanced at the large glass bottle of water on his desk, half empty. Hopefully he didn’t have the bladder of a ninety-year-old man and need to use the restroom during his break. If Vega was a teacher, she would have made Jessica wait until after school. Or maybe she wouldn’t have accepted late work at all. Mr. Reade was far too nice to students who didn’t deserve it.

  Vega worked on her advanced studies as Mr. Reade taught. It would have been easier to translate the spell book in the library, but she wanted to watch Jessica suffer. Her enemy fidgeted in class as Mr. Reade explained conjugation and made rounds, helping students with their workbooks. Jessica was forced to do her lessons. Vega relished seeing her squirm as she attempted to keep up with the exercises—but couldn’t because she hadn’t practiced.

  The first moment Mr. Reade took a seat at his desk, Jessica leapt up. “Can you correct my journal now?”

  A pang of worry shot through Vega that her teacher might realize Jessica had cheated with Vega’s help. She reminded herself that she had made plenty of beginner mistakes and had imitated Jessica’s angular letters.

  Mr. Reade’s smile remained unfrazzled, as if he was used to impatient students making demands all the time. “Please take a seat. I will correct it after class.”

  Vega lingered as Jessica waited for her journal to be graded during break, packing up her bag as slowly as possible.

  Mr. Reade’s brows furrowed together as he read the first essay. He turned the page, his eyes skimming the next one before flipping to the third essay. “I’m sorry, I’m going to need to spend more time on this. I wasn’t expecting you to have finished so much work.”

  “How much do you think it will raise my grade?” Jessica asked, hardly able to contain her excitement. “It’s half, so that’s fifty percent. That will give me a D, right? That means I’ll pass.”

  “A D is sixty percent.” Mr. Reade kept skimming the journal, his expression growing more pensive. “But you have turned in a couple other assignments this quarter, so it might be in the sixty percent range. I’ll let you. . . . Is this a joke?” He closed the book and crossed his arms.

  “What?” Jessica asked.

  Vega tried not to laugh. She had to hurry to her next class so she wouldn’t be late, but she burned to discover the outcome of Jessica’s essays.

  After school, Vega overheard the gossip. Mr. Reade had met with Mrs. Gordmayer after school to discuss a student, though no one knew who—except Vega. A thorough search of one of the freshman dormitories—the one where Jessica slept—had turned up a crystal ball, magic mirror, answer keys, and a pet snake—all confiscated. Jessica had been called into the principal’s office. Vega suspected Jessica was going to be expelled, and that would be the end to her problems.

  Unfortunately Jessica found her in the cafeteria at dinner, plopping herself down on the bench beside Vega.

  “I suppose I should thank you,” Jessica said. “I don’t have to go to Latin class for the rest of the semester. I get counseling appointments during sixth period instead.”

  If Jessica understood the consequence of missing a class, she might have recognized how devastating that would be in her schedule—and graduation. If she didn’t have enough credits to pass, she would be forced to take
summer school or become a second-year senior. Just as Mr. Reade was always saying, foreign language was the foundation for spellwork. Jessica needed to get the basics to help her in all her classes.

  The smug expression on Jessica’s face told Vega she was absolutely clueless about how this was going to damage her school year.

  “Go ahead. Thank me,” Vega said. If she did, she’d owe Vega a favor. That was the rule. There was a power in promises and oaths in this world—especially when made to a Fae or Witchkin. Vega would have loved for Jessica to owe her something, but she suspected no witch who knew the rules of the Unseen Realm was going to do that.

  Jessica made a face. “Ha ha! You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

  Vega shrugged. She did.

  “Mrs. Gordmayer called me into her office. She assigned me mandatory counseling because the essays you wrote were too disturbing.”

  Vega shrugged. “I didn’t think there was anything wrong with them.”

  Jessica snorted. “She read me excerpts. You’re pretty messed up, aren’t you? I covered for you. I pretended I had written them so you wouldn’t get in trouble.”

  Vega crossed her arms. “Don’t act like you did me a favor. The only reason you couldn’t tell them I wrote the essays was because if you had, you would be admitting that you had cheated. I imagine cheating, on top of all the things they found in your room today, would have gotten you kicked out.”

  Jessica stuck out her lip, resembling a sulky six-year-old. “That’s not true.”

  Vega sighed in exasperation. “Please say you are only pretending to be this dumb.” For all Jessica’s viciousness, she was an amateur bully. Vega could see she had worried for naught.

  Unless this truly was an act. It was what Malisha Bane would have done.

  “Well, they didn’t kick me out. Mr. Reade decided to take me on as his own special project. He’s going to tutor me and spend extra time with me.” Jessica smiled wickedly.

  Vega pretended she didn’t see that diabolical look in the other girl’s eyes. “Lucky you. You’ll get some extra help. You might actually pass.”