I was disappointed to find that Professor Pickwith’s lecture was similar to every other history class I’d ever been in—which is to say that it was excruciatingly boring. I genuinely wanted to learn about witch history, since I knew next to nothing about it. However, try as I might to follow Pickwith’s broad overview of what would be covered throughout the course, I could not get myself to focus.
Oliver elbowed me and raised his eyebrows several times during the class, signaling his eager anticipation regarding some period of witch history or another. I smiled as if I shared in his fascination, but truth be told I hardly even heard any of what Pickwith said.
I perked up a little at the mention of the Salem Witch Trials, the only piece of witch history familiar to me, but the rest of the lecture more or less failed to register. Instead, I ran over the events of last night in my mind and glanced at the clock over the door, counting down the minutes to when I could return to the Medical Wing and check on Braden.
Oliver raved about the course syllabus as we filed out of the lecture hall, though I barely heard him. I tried not to be rude as I excused myself to head toward the Florence Nightingale Center for Restorative Magic. My lack of enthusiasm for magical history left Oliver a bit discouraged, but he was ultimately sympathetic towards my preoccupation, and sent along his regards for me to deliver to Braden on his behalf.
One of Madam Petrovich’s team of healers, a similarly austere woman named Ursula, led me down a hallway off of the large room I had woken in this morning. She informed me that I was permitted to stay for only twenty minutes before leaving me at a closed wooden door.
My body tensed as I knocked on the door, and a soft, incomprehensible reply issued from within. I reached for the handle, but hesitated, remembering my unfortunate introduction to Leia in our dorm and the risks associated with presuming to enter a room without explicit permission. I knocked again, hoping to elicit a clearer response, and was met with a weak but audible, “Come in.”
I ducked as I entered the room, an impulse that struck me as strange, but common. I supposed that people employed the odd gesture to minimize the effect of their reluctant intrusion into a room in which they might not be fully welcome. I hoped it wasn’t necessary in this instance, and straightened my posture as I stepped further into the room.
Braden was propped up in a bed similar to the one I had found myself in this morning when I woke from my disturbing dream. I noted with a twinge of curiosity that the details of the dream remained oddly crisp, given the tendency for dreams to slip from consciousness shortly after waking.
“There she is, my hero.” Braden grinned at me, but his complexion was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. The bite of his sarcasm was dulled by his lack of energy. Understandable, of course, given his recent blood loss.
“Hey, how you feeling?” My eyes drifted to the spot where his wound would be, even though his body was covered by a blanket from the chest down.
“Never better, thanks to you. Hey, eyes up here lady.” I returned my gaze his face and found him frowning at me. “You couldn’t see it anyway. Madam Petrovich wrapped me up real good. Probably got about ten yards of fabric around my stomach here.” He gestured towards his midsection. “And the lovely Ursula’s been taking real good care of me. Not exactly the most colorful gal, though. Or gentle.” He laughed and immediately regretted it, judging by his wince and the grunt of pain he let out.
“Yeah, you know, I didn’t get a particularly tender vibe from her?” I chuckled despite my concern as I settled into a chair next to the bed.
“Who? Petrovich or Ursula?” He pursed his lips as he shifted in the bed to sit up a little straighter.
I smirked. “Neither.” I didn’t want to come off as callous, but I got the sense that Braden wasn’t the type to want a solemn atmosphere, despite his present state.
Something I learned visiting my grandmother when she was sick was that sometimes, the best thing to do for someone in the hospital is to just act like yourself and treat them like a regular, healthy person. According to her, it got old really fast having everyone tiptoe around you and act like you were made of glass.
“Accurate.” He laughed again, this time a thin, reserved chuckle that was probably intended to cause him less pain. It didn’t seem to work, though, as evidenced by the grimace he made as he clutched gingerly at his side.
“Jeez will you stop doing that?” I leaned forward in my chair, unsettled by Braden’s pain.
“What, laughing?” He quirked his brow and sneered at me. “I’m not dying, Meena.”
“Well, it’s obviously hurting you.” I glanced at the bedside table to avoid his gaze. I hoped it wasn’t too obvious how flustered I was by his discomfort, and I smiled in an effort to mask some of my concern. “I guess I’ll just have to dial back my dazzling wit.”
“If you can.” He raised his eyebrows as he gestured at me. “Not an easy task for someone of your comedic talents, I’m sure.”
“I’ll do my best.” I shrugged and raised my hands. “I never realized what a hazard it could pose in such a situation.” A hot blush crawled up the back of my neck, source unidentified.
“What a terrible burden.” His lips turned down to form a frown. “And here I thought I would be the one getting all the pity.”
“And here I thought you might be humbled by this whole ordeal.” I pressed my lips into a sly smirk and shook my head, mimicking Braden’s mock disappointment.
This time his chuckle gave way to a small fit of coughing, and our little back-and-forth lost all its charm.
“Are you okay?” I lurched from the chair and grabbed a glass of water off the side table, holding it out to him. “Here, drink something.”
He took the glass and drank from it, tipping it back carefully as he continued to let out small grunts. He swallowed and the coughing diminished.
“Want me to go get someone? Ursula? Madam Petrovich?” I half-rose from my seat, but he waved me off.
“No, no, it’s fine.” The words came out garbled as he cleared his throat, struggling to swallow the water and catch his breath. “I’m fine.” He closed his eyes and gulped. He stayed with his eyes closed for a few moments, taking in deep breaths. When he opened them again, he appeared to have regained his composure.
I held his gaze, all joking and playful banter set aside. “Are you sure you’re alright, Braden?”
Not for the first time, I noticed that there was a palpable energy when our eyes met, and I wondered if it was magic-related. It felt vaguely similar to my other encounters with magical energy, a tingling, powerful current that seemed to hang in the air around me. Could it be because we were both Drifters? I was curious if he felt it, too, but this didn’t seem like the time or place to ask.
“I’m fine.” He closed his eyes again and took in a few more deep breaths, then flopped his head onto his shoulder and regarded me earnestly. “Thank you, Meena.”
“Yeah, it’s no problem. No worries.” I gestured toward the pitcher of water on the bed stand as I reached for the glass in his hand. “You want some more?”
Braden snorted, an amused smile on his lips. “Not for the water, dummy.” His expression was grave when he looked back to me. “I mean really, thank you. You saved my life. If you hadn’t got us out of there, I don’t even know.” He drifted off and stared down at the empty glass as he grazed his finger over the lip.
“Yeah, well, I kind of convinced you that we had to do something, so I guess it was the least I could do.” I glanced around the room to avoid his gaze, which I could feel on me.
“Doesn’t matter how it happened. The point is that I got myself in trouble, and you saved me.” I turned back to him and found his expression still somber. “I owe you one. Seriously.”
“Bah, I barely even did anything.” I let out a nervous chuckle, uncomfortable with the sincerity of the moment. “It’s Leia you should really be thanking. I basically passed out as soon as we ended up in the tub. If it wasn’t for her,
you’d probably be toast.” I winced at my lack of delicacy.
“I’ll have to do that when I get out of here.” His intense demeanor shifted, and I let out a breath as the tone of the room lightened. “Petrovich says I’ve only got to stay here a couple days, then I’ll be good to go. Thank Leia for me until then, will you?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“I guess I owe both of you big time, then.” I was relieved to see his mischievous grin, even though I suspected he was about to say something obnoxious. “Kind of lucky for you guys. I’m an extremely good person to have owe you a favor.” He winked at me as his grin widened.
I scoffed. “Laid up in a hospital bed with a stitched-up belly, and yet you are still so full of yourself.”
“Psh, you think I’m going to let a little scratch get me down?” He furrowed his brow and smirked. “I know you don’t know me that well yet, but you still ought to know better than that.”
“Yet, huh?” I raised one brow at him. “And what makes you think I’m going to end up knowing you well at all?”
“Just a feeling.”
The air between us seemed charged as he held my gaze, and the flicker in his eyes made me wonder if he felt it, too. The tension dissipated as we both turned away, but another rush of heat crept up the back of my neck.
“Anyway, what classes did you have today?” Braden asked, interrupting the awkward silence, and I was relieved to see his expression of casual interest.
“Basics of Restoration and History of Magic 101.” I rolled my eyes, recalling the lackluster classes.
He scowled in pity. “Oof, snoozefest.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. But at least the boredom was briefly interrupted by the very uncomfortable meeting I had with Chancellor Singh in between.”
“Shoot, really?” Braden sat up as his eyes widened. “What’d she say?”
“Well, she wanted to know why I took off my class ring last night, and how you ended up in the medical wing.” I watched him closely to gauge his reaction to the Chancellor knowing about last night’s events.
“Crap.” He scowled and glanced to the side before turning back to me. “What’d you tell her?”
“I told her you were showing me some martial magic stuff to help me defend myself and fell on your own knife while we were training.” My initial impression was that he seemed pleased with my lie.
“Not even through your first day of classes and already lying to the Chancellor of your new school, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and flashed a conspiratorial smile. “You know, I may have misjudged you, Meena Song. You’re kind of a badass.”
As much as I hated to admit it, it felt kind of good to be called a badass. “You think it was the right choice?”
“Eh, I don’t know about ‘right’.” He shrugged and chewed his lip as he gazed off in contemplation. “But given how little we know about those masked freaks from last night, I think it may have been smart.” He turned back to me. “I think the less people that know about what happened last night, the better.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Speaking of self-defense, are you taking any actual Martial Magic this semester?” Something in his face suggested this was a leading question.
“Yeah, tomorrow morning, actually. Why?” I answered hesitantly.
Braden evaded my question with a falsely innocent smile. “And you have Professor Yates, right?”
“I do.” I narrowed my eyes in an effort to penetrate his façade of naivete. “Why does it feel like you’re setting me up for something?”
He scoffed and waved a hand as he looked away. “Oh, don’t be so suspicious. But…” He glanced back over to me.
“Yeah, uh-huh. We all knew there was a ‘but’ coming.” I chuckled, though I was developing a mild wariness regarding the current thread of conversation.
Braden raised his eyebrows as his tone grew more solemn. “Well, do you still want to find out what really happened to Lucas?”
“Of course I do, why would you even ask that?” I scowled despite my effort to control my emotions. Just the mention of Braden’s dead friend set my palms to sweating as I imagined him trapped within the circle of masked people, as Braden and I had been last night.
“I just mean, after what happened last night, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to bail.” He gave a wince and shrugged. “It’s obviously going to be pretty dangerous, and who knows, next time it could be you stuck in the Medical Wing. Or worse.” He pressed his lips together and looked off. “I’d hate to see anything happen to you, Meena.”
“Ugh, so patronizing.” I stuck out my tongue and frowned in disgust.
He quirked his head at me, his features contorted in confusion. “What?”
“That whole ‘it’s going to be pretty dangerous, little girl, I’d hate to see you get hurt’ thing,” I imitated in a condescending, hyper-masculine voice. “I hate that. Like, you’re the one who ended up in the Medical Wing? And who was it again that saved you? Oh that’s right, two women. Three, if you count Madam Petrovich. So don’t worry about poor little me, Braden. I want to know what happened to Lucas, and I’m not going to let anything scare me off.” I set my jaw and held his gaze to communicate my determination.
“Ha, okay, noted. Do not condescend Meena.” He held his hands up in innocence. “Alright, great, you’re in, you’re tough, I get it.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Anyway, if we’re going to find out what happened to Lucas, Professor Yates is a decent place to start. He was his faculty advisor, and they were pretty tight. I think Lucas worked with him some over the summer, so Yates might know something about what really happened.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can find out.”
I pressed my lips together at a hard knock at the door. Ursula came bustling into the room.
“Time to change dressing.” She spoke in a harsh accent similar to Madam Petrovich’s as she held up a roll of bandage and some gauze. “Visit’s over now.” She jerked her head toward the door as she moved to the other side of the bed, and her severe demeanor left no room for argument.
“All right, I’ll see you later, I guess. Feel better.” I gave Braden a weak smile.
“Good luck, Meena.” His mouth curled into a mischievous smirk. “I’ll be out of here soon, and then I’ll be able to help.”
I grinned as I stood and moved toward the door. “Who says I even need your help, Watson?”
“Just be careful, Meena.” His expression was grim as Ursula folded the blanket down from his chest to get at the wound dressing.
“I will.” I pulled my gaze away and stepped into the hallway. His concern was absolutely valid, if a little redundant, given the implicit warning of his current condition.
Despite the tediousness of my first two classes, I knew that Broken Wand Academy was an incredibly dangerous place, and I suspected that my first Beginner’s Martial Magic class tomorrow morning would more than make up for today’s lack of excitement.
Chapter 6
Of course she would be here.
My spirits dropped as I entered room number 212 in LeFay Hall, the site of my Beginner’s Martial Magic class. They hadn’t been particularly high to begin with, but I had been excited by the prospect of learning some actual magic, despite the disparaging criticisms Leia had leveled at the Department of Martial Magic over breakfast.
However, my excitement soured upon entering the student-filled classroom, and quickly fermented into a potent, fear-tinged animosity.
Serenity leaned against a small desk set off to the side at the front of the room. She was holding the rapt attention of a handful of students, who gazed at her admiringly from their desks.
I scowled at her from the doorway as I clenched my fists and imagined how it would feel to grab a handful of her straight brown hair and yank her right off that desk. I knew Leia wouldn’t approve of such aggression, and she was probably right to shun violence and strive for inner peace and all that good stuff, but the thought still broug
ht a smirk to my lips. Maybe imagined violence was my path to inner peace.
I put my head down and slipped toward the back of the room in an effort to avoid notice. No luck. Though she continued to address her little crowd of admirers, my neck prickled as I felt Serenity’s gaze land on me and follow me back to my seat in the mostly unoccupied last row. I glanced up and saw that she had returned her attention to the students in the front row, but the corner of her mouth drew up in a sneer as her eyes flicked over me.
I turned away to hide my interest and contempt. Attention, be it positive or negative, only gave people like Serenity more power and control. The best way to hurt someone like her was to ignore her completely. Clearly that was easier said than done, however, especially if she was causing you actual bodily harm. In that case, the best thing to do was to grab a fistful of hair and yank as hard as you could. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though. Or did I?
I was jarred from my fantasy by a shiver that ran fully up and down my spine. A hush fell over the room as a tall, slim man took his place behind the large desk at the front of the room. He nodded to Serenity, now seated behind her own smaller desk, before addressing the room.
“Welcome, New Wands, to Beginner’s Martial Magic.” His charcoal grey cloak swayed as he spread his long arms apart and pulled his thin lips into a smile. “I am Professor Dirk Yates, Head of the Department of Martial Magic.” He waved his left arm to indicate Serenity. “This is Serenity Walker, my teaching assistant for the semester.” Serenity inclined her head in acknowledgment as Yates turned back to the class, sporting a severe expression. “As such, she is to be given the same respect you would show myself or any other professor at the Academy, understood?”
He was answered by scattered murmurs and nods, the loudest affirmations coming from Serenity’s admirers at the front of the room.
“Excellent!” He clapped his long-fingered hands as his smile broadened and his eyes glimmered. “What say we get out of this stuffy classroom? Can’t learn much martial magic in here.”
Broken Wand Academy Page 15
