Broken Wand Academy

by Marisa Claire

  The next tug ripped me right off my feet. I slammed to the wooden floor, pain shooting through my elbow and hip. Dad bent over me, terror plain on his face, but before he could so much as touch me, I was skidding on my back toward the stairs.

  “Meena!” he shouted, chasing after me.

  The force dragged me upward, every sharp stair edge rattling my bones as I bumped my way to the top.

  “Meena!” Dad lunged and caught me by one ankle. “What’s happening?!”

  “I don’t know!” I shouted even though I did. We had clearly been caught. Braden was a jerk, but he would never manhandle me with magic like this. “But you have to let go!”

  “Never!” Dad growled, throwing his weight backwards.

  I yelped in pain. The force that had me by the finger was as solid as a wall, and my father’s attempt to yank me downstairs had only pulled the muscles in my overstretched back. I kicked out at him. “Don’t! Let me go!”

  Dad tried to grab my flailing foot, but I flew out of his reach like a fish being reeled inexorably into the boat. As the magic whisked me down the hallway toward my room, I rolled onto my stomach and tried to find the string. If I could break it—

  But no. That would leave Braden all alone with the consequences of our actions. I couldn’t do that to him. I had to go back.

  “I’m coming!” I shouted again, digging my toes into the carpet just enough to slow the pull and get my feet under me.

  My father reached the top of the stairs, slapping on the hall light just as I was standing. “Meena!”

  “Go back!” I yelled, pointing at the stairs. “Don’t follow me!”

  “Meena, please, you can’t go back there,” Dad begged, ignoring me and coming closer. “Stay with me. I’ll keep you safe. We’ll run if we have to.”

  The force yanked, digging the silver string so deeply into my finger that I feared it might sever it clean off, but I grabbed my bedroom door frame. “There’s no running, Daddy,” I whispered. “I have to go back. But… they say I can come home for Thanksgiving.”

  The string pulled again. This time, I cried out. Blood pooled around the string where it bit deeply into the flesh of my finger.

  Seeing this, my father’s face twisted with rage, and with a bellow I’d never heard the likes of before, he charged toward me. “Let my daughter go!”

  Realizing that nothing would keep my father from following me through the closet now, and knowing nothing good could happen to him on the other side, I threw up my hands and shouted, “Dad, stop!”

  A burst of purple magic lit up the hallway.

  My father’s scream ripped straight through my heart. The magic’s afterglow had left my eyes burning and blind, but my ears caught the thump of flesh against the floor.

  “Daddy!” I shrieked, lunging forward in spite of the swarm of purple spots clouding my vision. “No!”

  But the silver string yanked, whipping me off my feet. My chin slammed hard against the door frame, and the spots before my eyes congealed into darkness.

  Chapter 6

  I opened my eyes, but the darkness remained.

  Leaves crunched under my elbow as I lifted my right hand to my throbbing jaw. The moist crust of a large, half-formed scab greeted my fingertips, causing them to recoil into my palm. I let my fist fall beside my head and emitted a low groan as I poked around at my teeth with my tongue to make sure they were all accounted for. Luckily, it seemed their roots had all held firm.

  As my eyes adjusted, a spray of stars came into focus on the black canvas of night stretching overhead. I deduced that the darkest, jagged areas at the edges of my vision must be the tops of trees circling the clearing.

  How had I wound up back here? I squeezed my eyes shut and wracked my brain for the memory.

  Ah, yes. Braden and I opened a breach to retrieve my wand.

  My thumb pressed against the base of my ring finger, searching for the silver thread. I breathed a sigh of relief when it was right where it should be. If I’d lost that, Chancellor Singh would know I’d removed my ring, and this would be my last night at Broken Wand Academy. I’d be on the first magical transport home—

  Home!

  I bolted upright.

  Dad!

  The true memories rushed back in, forcing all the air out of my lungs. I wasn’t here to retrieve my wand. I was here… I had no idea why I was here. But I knew the last place I had been was my own home. I knew the last thing I had done was use magic to hurt my own father. The thud of his body echoed in my mind over and over, louder even than the drumming of my own pulse. I refused to consider the possibility that he had been more than hurt.

  “Good morning, Sunshine.” The speaker paused to chuckle. “Or should I say, Moonshine?”

  I froze, hands planted flat on the forest floor. I knew that voice. It was the same unnaturally deep, distorted voice that had presided over the attempted sacrifice Braden and I had witnessed.

  It was the voice of the man in the golden bird mask.

  Lifting my eyes, I found that very mask peering down at me, the long beak glinting like a sword in the moonlight. The head tilted in the comical way of a bird studying a seed on the ground—or in the less comical way of a vulture studying a piece of roadkill.

  The tall man withdrew a thin wand from a holster at his hip and waved it lazily through the air before my face. Absurdly, in that moment, I was most afraid of him poking me in the eye.

  “Meena Song, daughter of Kim Young-Mi,” he drawled. The tip of his wand pressed into the wound on my chin. “The shifter whisperer.”

  “Say what?” I hissed, pulling my head back.

  The wand whistled for the briefest of seconds before it slapped me across the cheek. I yelped, and the image of doing the exact same thing to Dash last night flashed behind my eyes, bringing with it a surge of guilt. But in the space between pulse beats, that guilt became rage. The bird man had plucked me out of the breach, meaning he had been in Braden’s room, meaning someone must have told him he could find me there.

  Dasharath had ratted me out.

  My heart pinched more than I thought it would.

  His irritating affection had never been sincere. Was this the real reason he had goaded me into throwing my wand away last night? He’d meant to disarm me so I would have no defense, not even the staff I’d used to defeat the cult the first time. He must have been among their ranks that night, just like Serenity.

  “Braden,” I choked. “If you hurt—”

  “Relax,” the bird man intoned. “I would never waste a perfectly good Proteus unless I had a perfectly good reason. And you haven’t given me one yet.” He stroked the cheek he had just struck with his wand. “Shall we keep it that way?”

  I snapped my teeth at his gloved hand.

  He jerked back, laughing seemingly in delight. “Fancy yourself a wolf, hmm, girl?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I growled. “Where’s Braden?”

  The man shook his head, metallic beak swaying side to side. “Your boyfriend—”

  My leg shot up and out, connecting with the man’s knee. As he doubled over, I leaped to my feet and wrapped both hands around that ridiculous beak. “Dasharath, if that’s—”

  A flash of magic illuminated the clearing, followed by a sensation like an electrified baseball being lobbed into my back. My limbs froze in place, legs slightly off balance, hands still gripping the beak.

  As the magic faded, I tried to blink away the afterglow, but my eyelids were caught in limbo, too. Terror welled in my chest, but the fact that my heart could still race and my lungs could still heave soothed it some.

  The bird man took a long step backward, easily removing his nose from my clutches. He straightened the mask, then smoothed the rumples out of his heavy black cloak.

  “Thank you, my dear,” he oozed at someone apparently standing behind me. “But you may release the spell now. I can handle her myself.”

  “If she does to you what she did to me…�
�� a female voice replied with uncertainty, causing my eyes to flutter shut with regret. I had only thought to worry about what Serenity might tell Chancellor Singh or Professor Yates, but of course she had reported back to the bird man.

  His beak pointed off to the side of my left shoulder, and at this distance, I could see the whites of his eyes gleaming behind the holes in the mask. “Then we will know she has the power we seek.”

  His gaze swung in a slow arc, passing over me like I wasn’t even there, and I realized Serenity was not the only member of the cult positioned behind me. They all were.

  “In that event, you must continue the ritual without me so that one of you might restore me to my present glory.”

  My lips pulled back in an expression of yikes.

  The bird face tilted to the left, and then the right. The movement was so uncanny that, for a moment, I allowed myself to consider the possibility there was an actual bird hidden beneath the cloak and mask. If people could be wolves, then why not birds?

  “You believe I am Dasharath Singh?” the man asked in his strange, distorted tone, returning his attention to me. “That is all you think of me?” He gestured at his body like it was something to behold, even though none of it could actually be beheld under all that cloak.

  “Oh, that’s not all I think of you,” I muttered, glancing away from the imposing figure. He was too tall to be Dash unless he was back in his glamour. It was only the disdain in his voice when he’d said the word boyfriend that had made me make that guess. That didn’t exactly make it an educated one.

  “I am not some simpering child chasing at his aunt’s apron strings,” the man seethed, drawing himself up to an even taller height. “Soon, if the rumors about you prove true, I will be the most powerful witch on the planet. Show some respect.”

  He flicked his wand and my knees buckled, dropping me into a subservient bow. Some sort of hard nut or stone dug into my shin bone, and I grit my teeth.

  “See how she growls!” the bird man roared, lifting his hands. “Like a beast of the moon!”

  A low murmur of excitement rose from the group stationed behind me, and a chill trickled down my spine. Why did they seem to believe I was some sort of shifter myself? I wasn’t, was I?

  Or was that the secret everyone had really been hiding from me? Was it only a matter of time before I would transform?

  “Brothers and sisters!” the bird man bellowed, growing taller still. “We began this year with the same hope as always: that we might grow strong enough to bring witchkind out of the shadows and into the light. But the opportunity that presents itself tonight may be far beyond our wildest imaginings. To possess the moon magic—” His voice broke off, as though he’d been overcome with emotion. “Bring me the test subject.”

  Test subject? That was the language of a scientist. Could this be Professor Phorm? The body types didn’t match up at all, but perhaps he wore a glamour to disguise his recognizable, everyday form. Who on campus would be more interested in possessing moon magic than the man who kept a shifter woman as a pet?

  The bird man glided backward with a flap of his cloak, and suddenly, I realized his feet were hovering a good eighteen inches above the forest floor. He came to rest on a large stump—the same stump I had seen him standing on once before. This was the clearing where they performed their human sacrifices.

  I gulped. That seemed… not promising for my future.

  Two more bird-masked figures strode past me on the right, one draped in a ruby red cloak, the other emerald green. I knew the girl in red was Serenity, but I wasn’t so sure about the one in green. The cloak reminded me somewhat of…

  I shook the thought away immediately. The important thing right now was not their identity, but that of the person squirming in the large black bag that floated behind them.

  My heart clenched. It had to be Braden. That poor, drunk mess hadn’t stood a chance when these monsters burst into his room. I should have taken him with me. Then we might have both escaped by cutting the strings. A life on the run was better than no life at all.

  “Let him go!” I tried to fill my voice with the authority of someone who possessed a rare magic. “I will cooperate. Just let him go.”

  The masked girls flanked the bird man, and the black bag hung suspended in the air before him. The heavy fabric muffled the timbre of Braden’s voice, but the swear words were unmistakable.

  “Let him go!” I tried again. “Did you hear me? I will cooperate.”

  “Child, you don’t even know what we need,” the bird man said with mirth.

  “I don’t care,” I said, surprising even myself a little. “Just let him go! He’s not part of this! He’s not—”

  The bird man gave a careless toss of his wand, and the black shroud unraveled from around the writhing form.

  “—Braden,” I whispered softly, staring at the boyish-but-not-boy figure floating where I had expected to see my friend.

  Professor Castle twisted her neck and jerked her chin at me as though we were just running into each other on the street. My hand flew to my mouth. She had said too much. Chancellor Singh had been listening, just as she feared. Which meant the Chancellor…

  “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. My voice faded away, leaving me mouthing the words, “I’m so sorry.”

  “S’okay, Eggplant,” Castle grunted. “I knew the risks. Didn’t like working there anyway.”

  “Let her go,” I choked out, tears stinging my eyes. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

  Castle scoffed. “Meena, don’t sweat it. You can’t let these ass—”

  “Silence!” the bird man thundered, and Castle’s voice vanished, even though her lips kept moving.

  When she realized what he had done, she twisted her head and spit on the hem of his cloak. With another lazy flick of his wand, she crashed to the ground. Her mouth twisted with a muted roar of pain.

  “Your task is very simple, Miss Song,” the bird man said, spreading his gloved palms. “The other Proteus will survive the night if you can turn this person into a wolf.”

  Chapter 7

  Castle’s twisted expression of pain smoothed into a slack-jawed look of shock. She managed to push herself up on one elbow, even though her wrists were bound in a manner that pressed her palms and finger together as if in prayer. I didn’t need to be a lip reader to guess the expletive at the end of her mouthed, “What the—?” I was thinking the exact same thing.

  “I can’t do that,” I stammered, backing away from the stump until I smacked into someone’s solid chest. Strong, gloved hands encircled my upper arms, holding me in place. A quick glance over each shoulder told me resistance was futile. It seemed an entire flock of colorful bird people had landed in these woods to watch the show.

  From atop the stump, their leader shook his wand like a teacher chiding a student—which I supposed made perfect sense given that he was almost certainly a professor. “Come now, don’t be shy. You’re among friends, my dear. Family, if you wish.” He rolled his shoulders in a way that might have been comical under different circumstances. “Loosen up. Show us what you can do.”

  “Or you’ll kill Braden?” I scoffed, fighting the urge to struggle against my captor. “Some family.”

  The bird man thoughtfully scraped his wand along the side of his golden beak, as though it were flesh capable of itching, but the motion produced a faint metallic scratching sound that set my teeth on edge.

  “A family should be a wellspring of motivation for its members to drink from,” he said at length. “You may think our methods cruel, but I assure you we aim only to inspire. Now. Go on. Change her… him?” He made a show of inspecting Castle’s prostrate form. “Her?”

  Castle bared her teeth and jerked at the ropes binding her wrists and ankles. The bird man flicked his fingers, lazily tilting his wand in her direction without moving his hand. Red magic glowed at the tip like a smoldering cigarette.

  I lurched forward, and my obedience so far paid off. The
hands that gripped my shoulders had grown complacent, and I easily broke free. Even as I did so, I knew it was stupid. Pointless. Hopeless. But every instinct in my mind and my magic commanded me to save the only person I felt I could well and truly trust in this entire hellish place.

  My hands rose of their own accord, pulsing with the heat of an unknown spell. Serenity and the figure cloaked in green did the same, gliding protectively in front of their deranged leader. I stopped short as my eyes locked with the second girl. There was something familiar about the rage radiating from behind her impressive mask. Colorful jewels lined the eye holes, and a spray of iridescent feathers adorned the crest. Her beak was long and narrow like a hummingbird’s, and sharp enough to double as a sword.

  She made a sudden violent pecking motion in my direction, and I shrank back, wanting to avoid death by skewer even more than I wanted to ascertain her identity.

  Looming over them on his stump, the bird man shook his head and made a gesture of parting curtains. The girls glided back to their original positions, calling into question how much free will this man’s followers could actually claim.

  A new anger welled inside me. I knew the second girl had to be a second-year like Serenity, or maybe even a first like me, because she wielded no wand. I wondered how many of the cloaked figures gathering behind me were also only half-trained classmates. Professor Phorm had refused me entrance into his program—not that I had actually wanted it—because I was apparently too much like my mother, who didn’t have the heart for it. Was this what he really meant? Was the entire department just a front for this cult?

  A shiver crawled over my skin like a swarm of icy-toed spiders. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that classes here were cut-throat, but how could it be that so many kids were perfectly fine with performing human sacrifice? Was it possible they hadn’t all chosen to be out here, participating in this? Was Phorm pulling all the strings with the help of a few loyal subjects like Serenity?

  I remembered something Braden had said during our first run-in with this crowd, something about Serenity’s family being involved in dark stuff. Was that why the two of them broke up?