by Lan Chan
“You would know if I was torturing you, Sophie.” The way his voice dropped when he said my name made all the hairs on my body stand upright. The witch part of me commanded me to show him my belly. The human part stomped her foot. I chose to be human today. For the first time in a long time.
“You would know if I was trying to poison you, Maximus.”
Gold flared in his eyes. A rumble vibrated in his chest. I’d bet nobody ever called him by his full name besides his mother. By doing so, I had effectively declared myself dominant. That was so far from reality it was laughable. If he chose to go furry, I’d be mincemeat in a second. But in that second, I wondered if I could transmute him into a pile of sludge.
I caught myself before that thread got too deep. Thinking those kinds of things could get a person into trouble. Max tilted his head up to watch me. I really wanted to sit down. The containers of food were heavy. The one holding the lamb stew was burning a scar on my forearm.
“You’re not supposed to be on the junior campus,” I said. We both knew I was clutching at straws. None of the teachers would bat an eyelid if they found Max here. If they kicked up a fuss, he would just use Kai as his get out of jail card. That’s what he did last year when he’d knocked over the wall surrounding the Run.
“Are you just going to quote arbitrary rules to me all lunchtime?” He glanced at the position of the sun. Supernaturals didn’t do well with modern technology. Their aura tended to make things like computers and phones go awry. Bells rang in the clock towers to keep time. Or you could buy a heavily magicked analogue watch from the stores in the supernatural towns. “If I promise not to hurt you, can we eat?”
“I told you this is my food!” My leg was cramping. I had to sit down. He snatched the containers away as soon as I was in reaching distance. “Max!”
He had the hummus container open already. Making a face, he shoved it aside. “I can tell you’re an only child,” he said.
“That’s got nothing to do with it! Why don’t you get your own food? There are mountains of it in the dining hall!”
“I don’t want that food.” He found the stew. And then the cutlery. The steam coming out of my ears was extinguished when he offered me the fork and the container. I froze. No shifter ate before the alpha. Granted we were on murky ground at the moment. It still didn’t change the fact that by offering me the first bite, he was conceding something. I didn’t move. All of my senses were hyper-aware of him looming just steps away.
“Can you eat so I can eat?” he said.
“What the heck is happening here?” I wailed.
He smiled. “You think way too much.”
I thought about smacking him across the head with a piece of flatbread. He nudged my hand with the fork. When I continued to imitate stone, he pressed the fork into my hand and moved it so the fork speared a chunk of lamb. I tried to wrestle away.
He made a frustrated grunting sound. “I’m starving.”
“Go away.”
“Not happening.”
“Why?”
His eyes skimmed over the containers with unabashed longing. “Because your food is just about the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll poison you for real?”
He actually laughed. “I’ve got more chance of being poisoned by my brother than by you. Eat.”
I bristled. “Are you worried about the other kids –” He stuck the fork in my mouth. I sputtered as the savoury taste of meat gravy hit my tongue. Satisfied that I’d taken the first bite, Max used the spoon meant for the hummus to shovel stew into his mouth.
“Mmmm.”
I tried to chew frantically so I could say something contrary but the look of sheer bliss on his face had me pausing. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to share if he really did like the food. I broke off a piece of flatbread and dipped it into the hummus.
“Salad?” I asked, pushing the small container at him. Max’s top lip curled. I yanked the lamb away from him. “No more meat until you eat something green.”
He glared at me in disbelief. “I’m not kidding.”
“You certainly are.”
“I’m the host and I say you’re going to eat some salad.”
Ha! That got him. At home, the wolves ate anything put in front of them. In their culture, it was offensive to turn down a meal. Max’s face twitched. He picked up a single piece of thinly sliced cucumber. “Try again,” I pressed.
“Urgh!” he grumbled, taking the container from me. “You’re worse than my mother.”
He made a face as he chewed on the greens but we were both surprised when he took another mouthful. “What’s in the dressing?”
“Pomegranate and lemon.”
“Not bad.” If he was trying to suck up, it was working. By the time the bell rang, I was no less wary but the edge of distrust was blurring a little.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.
“I’m not cooking for you every day, Max.”
“Why not?”
I gave him a pointed look. “For one, I don’t have that kind of time.”
“Yeah you do, you don’t have any friends.”
Coming from anybody else, that statement would have made me shrivel. But he just stated it like it was something mundane. He didn’t dwell on it like it mattered either. “Not my problem if the kids your age are stupid. See you tomorrow.”
It only occurred to me after he’d waved and left that he’d ditched his friends to hang out with me. Shifters roamed in packs. Eating alone through choice was unheard of. I didn’t even want to think about what it meant. As if my life wasn’t complicated enough.
11
Half of me was still in doubt about Max really showing up the next day. I was sure it was some kind of practical joke. Or a dare. Or maybe he was slowly lulling me into complacency so he could get his revenge.
But when I turned the corner around the fig trees, he was lying on a picnic blanket with a baseball cap over his face. He had to have run to get here before me. I thought maybe he really was asleep. Until I drew closer and he reached up to take the cap off.
“Didn’t you sleep?” I asked, a feeling of unease in my gut. Some of the kids in my Arcane Magic class hadn’t been there this morning. They arrived halfway through citing extreme fatigue. I’d slept fine but woke up feeling as though I’d been fighting a battle in my sleep. My hair showed signs of extreme tossing and turning. It was why I was wearing my grey wig tied into a long ponytail.
“What makes you think that? I was just killing time because your little legs walk so slowly.” I let my gaze slide over him. The two bear shifters in class this morning sported bloodshot eyes that they could barely keep open. Max’s were as alert as always. His attention was on the containers I had in my hands. I passed them over. He wasted no time opening up the containers of fried chicken, coleslaw, grilled corn and salsa.
The mention of lack of sleep made me pensive. That feeling of being unable to grasp at something important overwhelmed me. It was as though something was blocking me from seeing the truth. I hated that.
“Do you have a pen?” I asked Max.
“Do I –” The rest of what he said was drowned out when he opened his mouth and literally inhaled a drumstick. I rustled around in my backpack for something to write with. By the time I found a pen, I’d forgotten why I needed it.
I sat there confused. “What’s wrong?” Max asked. He’d stopped eating for a second at the look on my face.
I scrubbed at the bridge of my nose. “I keep feeling as though there’s something I should be remembering, but whenever I try to figure out what it is, my mind goes blank.”
“Maybe it’s not important.”
The problem was, I had a feeling it was very important. I just couldn’t remember why. For the whole of lunchtime, I sat there with the pen in my hand. I ended up just writing the word “remember” in big block letters on my palm. “You really do think way too much,” Max said.
“As opposed to what
?” He shrugged, leaning back against the tree. “Maybe you don’t think enough.”
He was in the middle of laughing when a pair of girls sauntered around the corner. The smile disappeared immediately to be replaced with taut wariness. The girls had their heads together. They both stopped when they spotted us. One of them was a Fae. The other a shifter. They gave us a long look before disappearing into the gate of the kitchen garden. For a moment I thought they’d been spying on us. The bell rang.
I frowned. Where had lunchtime gone? Beside me, Max had gone still. I tried not to let the rigid set of his shoulders bug me. After all, I hadn’t really fallen for his meek act. He was in this for the food. It wasn’t as though we were friends. Of course he’d be annoyed that he’d been spotted hanging out with me. I tried to convince myself that it didn’t hurt when his head kept turning in the direction where the girls had disappeared.
Without a word, I packed up my things. “Bye.”
He didn’t respond.
I couldn’t help glancing back at where our lunch spot was. He’d disappeared. Oh well. At least now that he’d been found out I could go back to eating lunch on my own.
Some of the kids didn’t show up for our Mystical Creatures class either. We were supposed to meet up in the billabong today to see if we could coax the bunyip out of its watering hole. Professor Allen was not impressed.
“Am I keeping you awake, Sibyl?” he grunted. Sibyl covered her mouth but couldn’t help the yawn that broke through.
“I’m so sorry, professor. I’m just so tired.”
Her lethargy triggered something in me. I glanced down at the word I’d written on my palm. Remember. What was it I was meant to remember?
“Maybe a little less time on the MirrorNet would help,” the professor sniped. A silverback gorilla shifter, his hair was pitch black with white tips. He was always unflinchingly gentle with the creatures he dealt with, but he had little patience for the rest of us.
“I wasn’t on the Net!” Sibyl complained. Her yawning set off a bunch of other kids. In fact, out of the fifteen or so of us, I was the only one who didn’t look like I had gone a hundred rounds with a hexed broomstick.
There were even fewer kids in Weaponry and Combat. Jacqueline turned up midway through and took Professor Eldridge to the side. My ogre sparring partner was like lead on her feet. All the human mythology books had it dead wrong. Ogres weren’t known for their speed on the upshot, but once they got going, their hits were unstoppable.
Olivia was not on her game today. She stumbled and snorted as I darted around her. I was human. Speed was not my strong suit either. Today I felt like a roadrunner next to her coyote. She paused, holding her side. “Gimme a sec,” she said.
“Sophie,” Jacqueline called my name. Olivia huffed in relief. Lowering my staff, I walked over to the headmistresses.
“Hi,” I said.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Do you mind?” Before I could ask what she was intending, she pressed her hands to the side of my face and lifted up my lids.
“Ummm…”
“Are you experiencing any fatigue?”
I nodded. “A little. But it doesn’t seem to last. Especially not after lunchtime.” That was something that had played on my mind. Whether or not I’d woken up feeling like death, after lunch, the ominous cloud disappeared.
As she released me, Jacqueline noticed the scribble on my hand. “What’s that about?”
I stared at the offending note. “I’m not sure. I keep getting this feeling like I’ve forgotten something. It’s not exactly the best reminder if I’m honest.”
“Well, you’ll tell me if you start feeling unwell, won’t you?”
I couldn’t help being startled. She was the headmistress. Minor ailments were well below her pay grade. “Did my parents say something to you?”
But she had already turned on her blue velvet heels and walked away to speak to Olivia. The rest of the class gave up after that. At one stage, Olivia put her staff down, leaned on the end and started snoring. I didn’t know how on Earth to wake her. So I left her in that position until the bell rang.
Determined to figure out what it was I should be remembering, I was like a whirlwind around the kitchen garden. For dinner I ate some leftover chicken and a big salad made from the fresh leaves picked in the garden. I hauled wheelbarrows of compost from the huge bays behind the garden and helped Peter top up the mixes in the newly fixed raised beds.
“You’re full of energy!” Peter observed. “The kids in the last class looked like they were going to drop dead on the spot.” He yawned.
There it was again. That twinge in my gut that made me feel listless. I rushed to finish the job and then bolted to the library. “Remember,” I kept muttering to myself. I was in such a hurry that I turned a corner and ran straight into Professor Mortimer.
He guffawed as we made contact. There was a small smile on his face as he set me right. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a student in such a hurry to get to the library,” he said.
Something about him made the hum of awareness in my blood turn into a buzz. “Professor,” I asked. “Do you still have Kate’s necklace?”
He scratched at his beard. “What’s left of it. Most of the pendant crumbled into dust. Why do you ask?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t sure why. There was no way to explain it. Why was I so concerned about Kate’s cheap souvenir? I excused myself and speed-walked into the library where I proceeded to check out the Book of Beasts for the fifty billionth time. The library assistant didn’t even bat an eyelid. I had a copy of my own back in my room but that was a newer edition. Over the years, some of the stories had been cleaned up a little because the species they belonged to had protested the way they had been portrayed. This book was a first edition. That was why I was issued a pair of magicked gloves to turn the pages. It was also why the book wasn’t allowed off the library premises.
“Remember, Soph,” I kept telling myself. I turned the pages one by one hoping the pictures of the gruesome creatures would jog my memory. Two hours later, I’d gone through most of the book to no avail. I’d even sat there staring at the portrait of my great-grandfather thinking that maybe it had something to do with him.
Outside the window, the moonlight shone through the clouds. It was so bright that I hardly needed the Fae lamp to see. A wolf howled in the near distance. From this part of the library, I could see the edges of the high walls that made up the shifter Run. It was where the shifters could go when they needed to turn. I wondered if Max was there tonight.
Thinking of him brought back the strange behaviour he’d shown when the two girls had arrived. Fatigue washed over me. The way the light slanted made me think it was pretty late. The library was open all hours. Its current clientele of mostly vampires told me I’d stayed way too late. After returning the book, I shouldered my backpack and stepped out into the courtyard.
One of the Nephilim guards flew overhead. I couldn’t tell who it was from this distance, but it was comforting to know they were up there. It was part of the reason why I wasn’t afraid even though I was walking back to my dorm in moonlit darkness. Okay, I was slightly jumpy when the bear’s growl filtered through the expansive lawn. It wasn’t an unusual thing to hear at this time of the month. But something about the sound seemed ominous tonight.
I passed by several vampires on the way. Unlike what popular human culture would have you believe, these interdimentional beings weren’t dead. They were just another species of supernatural. The vamps slept like the rest of us, and these vamps were cranky. One of them ground their teeth at me. I felt the pulse in my neck jump in response.
It lit a fire in my heels. I lowered my head and ran the rest of the way back to the dorm. As I ascended the staircase, an opaque mass appeared in my periphery. To my mind, it looked like a swarm of insects. I tried to turn my head towards it. The thing disappeared when I tried to look at it directly. A cold hand drew
an icy line down my spine.
I reached my door to find it hanging wide open. A whimper snagged in my throat as I took in the scene in front of me. Somebody had ransacked my room. My mattress and pillow were slashed open. Their foam and feather filling lay like ash on the floor. My closet doors had been flung open. All of my clothes were strewn about the room.
They had tried to open the chest and were unsuccessful, so they had instead bashed in the lid with some kind of blunt object. Worst of all were the claw marks on the walls. They underlined the scrawled writing that dripped down the wall. My only consolidation was that the crimson font wasn’t written in blood. It was food die. The expensive kind I’d bought to use for baking.
The message could have been more original. I supposed some messages were classics. It read: Leave or die.
12
When other people got stressed, they overate or slept. When I was stressed, I cooked. “Are you sure you don’t want to just sit down?” Mama asked. I threw her a look. She held up her hands in surrender.
We were inside the Potions lab while Professor Mortimer and the Nephilim checked out the scene in my room. After taking a scraping sample of the food die, I’d walked steadily to Jacqueline’s office. She wasn’t in, of course. It was too late at night for that. I’d pressed my palm to the mirror on her assistant’s desk and left a message. Less than two minutes later, Jacqueline and the professors had swarmed on me along with a small troop of Nephilim guards. My parents arrived shortly after.
Dad sneezed. “Smells really spicy, Soph.”
No kidding. I was chopping up fire breather peppers. They were a special plant from the Fae realm. There were rumours that they were once used to feed dragons. I dropped a few into the chilli I was making and then fed some to Charming. He stood beneath the cauldron stand, his mouth open, blue flames bursting from his throat. The rest of the peppers went to his siblings who were racing around in their enclosure.