Cauldron of Ash

by Dorothy Dreyer

  “Yeah. She was twelve, right? They said it was an accident.”

  “It was an accident.”

  It took me a moment to realize she was talking about herself. My eyes widened. About fifty deaths had resulted because of that fire. Laurel looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, so if she was that little girl, she’d been here for close to six years.

  “Oh, I—” I began, wanting to tell her I believed it truly was an accident. That I knew from experience that witches could do things with our powers that we didn’t mean to do. But she cut me off.

  “I need to go.” She marched toward the door, not sparing me another look. “See you later.”

  As the door closed behind her, I felt frozen in place. All I could do was stare at the door and contemplate how long Laurel’s sentence had been. Surely, it wouldn’t take me six years to leave this place. Surely, I could figure out how to get a jump on this point system so I wouldn’t be stuck here forever.

  The first thing I had to do, however, was train my ferret.

  “Hey, Rascal,” I called, figuring that was as good a name as any. “Time to do some learning.”

  One hour later, the best I could accomplish was to get my curious little ferret to come back to me by releasing a small puff of smoke from my fingers. He would stand on his hind legs and sniff the air, and then rush back to me to investigate my hand. But there was no telling how long his curiosity would last. I could only hope it would be enough to get through the school day so I could spend the evening attempting to get him in line.

  I also had to find out how I could also volunteer to work at the Founder’s Festival. If I didn’t want to stay here forever, I needed to get as many points as possible in the shortest amount of time.

  I was glad to see there were lots of empty seats in Potions class, though each work table appeared to seat two people each. That meant I would probably have a lab partner. For some reason, I thought of Killian, and a small shiver crept over my body as I wondered if he would be my partner. Muttering a curse under my breath, I shook off the thought. My head told me it would be awful to be paired up with a vampire, having to work closely with him every time I had Potions class. So why did I have a flutter in my stomach? That shiver that crept over me—was it a good shiver or a bad one?

  I shook my head, almost rolling my eyes at myself. Vamps were not good news; of course the shiver was bad. If I had to work with Killian, fine. But that was all there would be to it. After all, I was here to get as many points as I could so I could go back home to my family. Not so I could hook up with guys—no matter how cute or how snug their shirts clung to their biceps…

  Reagan, stop it! I said to myself.

  Forcing myself to put the vampire out of my mind, I took a chance and sat in a middle row. Rascal jumped up on the lab table and sniffed around at the vials and tubes sitting in a container. The bell hadn’t rung yet, so there were still students loitering in the hall, a few of them resolving to come into the classroom and take a seat. A black cat jumped up on the teacher’s desk and knocked a bunch of pens onto the floor. A hawk flew past my head and landed on the windowsill. Not everyone came in with a pet, but there were certainly more than a handful of animals.

  I recognized Christine—the girl who’d sat next to me in my first class—as she entered the room. She didn’t have a pet with her. She flashed me a small smile and then plopped down in the chair beside me.

  “Hey,” she said. “I’m Christine.”

  “Hi. I’m Reagan,” I replied. Rascal sniffed in her direction, approaching her slowly. “That’s Rascal.”

  She gave him a quick scratch behind his ear. “I know what it’s like to be the new girl, not knowing how anything works and wondering who all these people could be.” She gestured around the room. “So I thought I’d do the humane thing and introduce myself, as well as offer to answer any questions you might have. It’s a lot easier to adapt to this place if you’ve got someone to talk to.”

  “That’s nice. Thank you.”

  “No problem. Someone was nice enough to offer me her friendship when I got here, so I’m paying it forward.”

  “I appreciate it. Is your friend in this class?”

  The tiniest hint of a frown ghosted her lips. “No, she got out. She’s out in the real world, not having to suffer through Potions class.”

  I let out a small laugh, though I could sense Christine was sad about her friend’s absence.

  I tried not to stare when Killian walked into the room. The black cat on the teacher’s desk meowed at him. As soon as Killian looked in my direction, I turned my focus back on Christine.

  “I do have a question,” I said to her. I wanted to ask about a vampire attending the school, but instead I shifted gears. “What’s the fastest way to accumulate merits?”

  She laughed. “In a hurry to get out, huh?”

  “Kind of. And by that, I mean totally.”

  “You can sign up to help out at all the functions—which we happen to have a lot of—and you can ask the teachers for extra-credit work. If you’re really brave, you could ask Principal Grayson if you could help get her office organized, but I have to warn you that the few who have tried actually fell behind in points for not doing things her way.”

  “Okay, so that’s probably a pass from me. But volunteering for a function sounds good. We have one coming up, right?”

  “The Founder’s Festival, yeah. But I think they might be all booked up with helpers. Doesn’t hurt to ask, though.”

  “Whom do I ask?”

  “Principal Grayson.”

  My face fell and hope drained from me. I highly doubted Principal Grayson would give me a chance. I wasn’t exactly on her good side. But maybe I could change that.

  As the seats filled up, I noticed that my roommate, Laurel, sat next to Killian a couple of rows ahead of us. I lowered my voice and leaned closer to Christine.

  “What’s his story?” I whispered.

  “Who, Killian?”

  I cringed, thinking he must have heard us and was sure to turn around. But after a couple of seconds, he continued arranging the vials at his table, not sparing us a glance.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t aware this place wasn’t just for witches.”

  “It’s supposed to be, but… let’s just say his family has some connections who got him into the school.”

  I studied the back of Killian’s head, telling myself I was stupid for being so curious about him. “What did he do? To get in trouble enough to get in here, I mean. Do you know?”

  “Not entirely, but I know he comes from a good family, one that swore off using glamour for gain. They were struggling financially, apparently. Whatever he did, he was trying to get them out of a rut, and it went sour.”

  At that moment, the teacher—Mr. Peterman—waltzed into the room. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. Everyone quieted down.

  “Hello, class. Today we’re going to be working on a memory potion. One that will make humans forget any magic they may have seen us perform, so as not to have us exposed to the world. If you’ll turn to page fifty-two in your books…”

  With a wave of his hand, thick text books appeared in front of each of us. We didn’t even have to open them to the page he mentioned, as the pages flipped open for us.

  Amazed, I cast Christine a quick look. She didn’t seem that impressed, which meant this was something that happened regularly. As Mr. Peterman went on to explain the origins of the potion, my eyes wandered to a few rows ahead of us, where Killian stretched. I could just catch a glimpse of how his shirt rode up a bit to expose a thin line of flesh above his belt. My skin suddenly became hot, and I averted my eyes.

  What are you doing? I asked myself, fighting not to drop my head on the table with disbelief at how I was acting. This was inexcusable. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn he was using some kind of glamour on me, because try as I might, I couldn’t get my mind off that vampire.


  Chapter Six

  For the next thirty minutes Mr. Peterman read over the inner workings of the potion and spell that were supposed to cause memory loss in humans. The slam of my book shutting shook me out of my slumber.

  “All right. Now let’s put this potion into action,” Mr. Peterman announced to the room.

  I sat up straight, refocusing my attention back to the old cast iron cauldron that appeared in front of me. I couldn’t remember a word he’d said, as I’d been too busy daydreaming about Killian. This wasn’t like me at all. I would never let a guy or anyone for that matter distract me from learning. Reaching out to my book, I quickly opened it up and glanced over the specific potion entry, memorizing it word for word. Ingredients are spread out in front of me, herbs and vials that were filled with crystal blue liquid.

  “Reagan, are you ready to show the class how to perform this spell?” the instructor asked. I jumped at the sound of his voice. He was now at my desk and the whole class was looking my way. I shrunk down in my seat, embarrassed. This would teach me for not paying attention.

  “Oh, yes, sure,” I mumbled, trying to act as if I’d been listening the whole time.

  He knew very well that I hadn’t been listening at all.

  “But my potion isn’t finished yet,” I said.

  His smile mocked me. “You can use the one I prepared.”

  “Oh. Okay.” My chair scraped against the ground as I pushed it back. Making my way to the front of the class, I didn't dare look in Killian’s direction. While I walked, I spent the whole time memorizing the spell over again in my head, making sure I knew what I was doing. Rascal followed me curiously. Once I was at the front, I turned around, looking straight at Mr. Peterman.

  With a snap of his fingers, a figure appeared right next to me. I jumped in shock.

  The black cat, which was apparently also shocked by the figure, jumped off the desk and ran onto Killian’s lap.

  “Reagan, you will perform the spell on this human figure.” Mr. Peterman marched forward and handed me the vial of potion from his desk. “Make him forget that he saw you performing a spell.”

  I gulped down the lump stuck in my throat, and sweat started to form on my forehead. Repeating the spell one more time in my head, I told myself I was ready. Well, as ready as someone who hadn’t been paying attention could be. Swallowing my fears, I repeated the spell out loud to the room. A light shimmer appeared, going from the vial in my hands straight toward the human figure. It covered his body from top to bottom. He looked like a glowing angel, minus the wings and halo. His mouth opened slightly and then closed just as quickly. He looked around the room with confusion written all over his face. It was apparent he had no idea where he was or what had happened. I sighed in relief, grateful the spell had worked.

  “Very good, Reagan.” Mr. Peterman raised a bushy brow. “Especially since you weren’t paying attention. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

  I couldn’t help the smirk that formed on my face. I winged it, and I actually killed it.

  Walking back to my chair, I couldn’t help but glance toward Killian. I was met with the blue of his eyes staring straight at me. But instead of shying away, I kept eye contact. He sat stretched out in his seat, his long legs reaching out into the aisle. One of his arms was draped over the back of his chair, the position causing his shirt to inch upward, exposing a bit of skin at his taut stomach. Curiosity seeped its way into my pores in that moment. I wanted to know more about him. I had this desire to know. Like something kept pulling me toward him, and I could ignore it all I wanted, but I knew that somehow it would get the better of me. It always did. He screamed “bad boy.” But that was what made me curious. I looked toward his black cat that sat on his desk licking its paws.

  “Now, class, I want everyone to perform the spell on the figures I will provide for you.” Mr. Peterman gestured at the glass by waving his hand around. “You will need to work together in groups of two.”

  I partnered up with Christine, who looked pleased at the partnership, and for the remainder of the class, we took turns repeating the spell on our figure. While Rascal made himself comfortable on my knee, he kept sniffing the air watching the other animals. One boy had a snake that had been eyeing Rascal as if he wanted to eat him for lunch.

  Mr. Peterman suggested we tell the figure something about us—like our name or where we came from—and then ask the figure if they remembered it after performing the spell. We were pleased it was working, but then we began to grow bored, so then we started to tell our figure offhand things, like when I’d once tripped at school and sent my lunch flying into the face of the boy I’d liked. Christine told the figure about the time she was supposed to play at a piano recital but had totally blanked and gotten embarrassed in front of an audience. We laughed each time the figure would forget these tidbits of information, but I secretly wished I could make my family and everyone at that restaurant forget what I had done to my cousin. But most of all be able to take it all back, I swallowed back the lump caught in my throat.

  When the bell rang to signal class had ended, I was exhausted. Physically and mentally. I wanted nothing more than to go and crash on my bed. But Christine had other plans for me.

  I gathered up my books and beelined for the door with Rascal sitting in the crook of my neck. Christine caught up to me, tapping me on the shoulder.

  “If you want to get in on the fundraiser event, you should come with me now to the kitchen rooms. A few of us are doing some baking, prepping what we’re going to make for the fundraiser. You would totally get brownie points being there helping.”

  My eyes lit up at her words. This was perfect, and I was grateful to her for being so nice to me.

  “Yes, that would be amazing. Lead the way.”

  Following her out, I was so excited that I didn't see the table right in front of me. I ran straight into it, my toe smashing into the table leg. I couldn’t help the swear word that flew out of my mouth. Rascal flew off my shoulder landing on the ground. Killian’s cat hissed at Rascal, his back arching.

  “Better watch where you’re going next time. These tables seem to have legs of their own.” The deep voice caught me off-guard, but I knew exactly who it belonged to. The one person I was meant to be avoiding. That one distraction that could affect my time here.

  “Don’t they? Stupid things,” I retorted, walking away and trying to catch up with Christine.

  “You can’t keep running from me, Reagan.”

  I stopped in my tracks, peering at him over my shoulder. The way the corner of his mouth curved upward sent a little shiver down my spine.

  “One day you will sit down and actually have a conversation with me. It’s bound to happen; don’t you feel the connection too?”

  My cheeks flamed at his words. Of course I felt it, but I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. He obviously thought he already had all the answers.

  Rascal leaped up onto the table and jumped toward me, somehow managing to land on my shoulder. He nestled in under my hair, making himself comfortable.

  I quickly turned back toward the door and ran to catch up to Christine. She led me down the hall and down a dark stairwell toward what I hoped were the cooking facilities.

  Before I reached the landing, something nipped at the hairs in my ears, like a whisper coming from behind me. Rascal squealed pushing himself further into my hair, trying to hide himself. I stopped and turned, squinting my eyes. The stairwell was so poorly lit that everything looked shadowed. My eyes were playing tricks on me, making the shadows move. I waited a moment to see if someone was there, but when nothing happened, I figured it was just my imagination.

  By the time I turned back toward Christine, she had disappeared inside the kitchen rooms. Taking a few deep breaths, I followed in after her. The door slammed shut behind me, causing every eye to turn to me. Avoiding everyone's stares, I rushed forward, joining Christine at one of the kitchen benches.

/>   The home eco room was set up with a dozen benches all equipped with cooking and washing units, everything you needed to cook up a storm. Thankfully, everyone quickly resumed what they’d been doing, focusing their attention elsewhere. Just the way I preferred. I couldn't afford to get distracted while here. If I kept attracting attention, that would make me a target, and that wasn’t good. I had one mission and that was to get as many points as possible as quickly as possible so I could get out of here for good. No way would I put myself in a situation that would land me here again. My freedom was what I missed the most. Being able to go down the street, catch up with friends. Here, everything was set to a schedule.

  Christine was busy collecting the ingredients laid out on the table for us. She passed me some flour, eggs, and milk and pointed to the recipe book. I glanced over, looking at what we had to bake. Peppermint chocolate cookies. Easy enough, I thought. No way I could screw this up.

  For the next hour, Christine and I baked over a hundred cookies. At one point, I leaned back against a cupboard, letting out a loud sigh.

  “Remind me again why we’re doing this?” I asked Christine.

  I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smile on her lips, but when I looked again it was gone.

  “Because we want to get out of here, that’s why. And trust me—that’s enough of a reason.” She lowered her voice. “You’ve only been here a few days; you have no idea how bad this place can be.”

  Her words had me intrigued. What else went on here that I wasn’t aware of? It must have been bad if she was that eager to get out. Something told me there was more to it than just lack of freedom.

  After washing up and handing in our cookies to the teacher on duty, we made our way back to the dorms, flour in our hair and egg yolk staining our clothes.

  “Let’s grab some dinner from the cafeteria. It should be quiet in there now.”

  As she led the way, my tummy rumbled, which caused Rascal to move across my shoulder and nip at my ear. I swatted him away playfully. I followed Christine down the corridor. She stopped at the double doors that lead into the cafeteria, she peered through the glass. I stood beside her wondering what she was checking for. She let out a sigh then pushed the door open. I stepped inside to find the cafeteria fairly quiet apart from two tables that had a group of guys in deep conversation. They glanced up at Christine as she marched toward the bains-marie. I quietly followed behind her.