Tarot Academy 1: Spells of Iron and Bone

by Sarah Piper

  But then Blue rolls her eyes and says, “Look, girls. It’s Starla I’m-too-good-for-the-coven Milan.”

  “Twinkle, twinkle,” Emory says, gazing down at us from her floating perch five feet off the ground.

  Carly casts aside the water and immediately resets to her default factory setting of uber-bitch. “I didn’t know you were invited.”

  “Really?” I feign concern. “For a self-proclaimed clairsentient, it’s weird that you’re always the last to know things. Maybe you should, like, have your aura cleansed?”

  A few people snicker, but inside, my gut turns hot and prickly. I’m not about to let anyone walk on me, but I really, really hate this petty, pissing-contest bullshit. We have a hard enough time making our way through life as it is. Shouldn’t we be supporting each other? Lifting each other up instead of tearing each other down?

  “Professor Phaines doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with my gift,” Carly says, raising her voice to ensure maximum distribution and attention, though by this point most of the crowd is dissipating, moving on to some new entertainment. “And Phaines would know. He’s a powerful seer, and a personal friend of our family.”

  “How nice for you all.”

  “You’re not the only special little snowflake he’s taken an interest in, either. The girls and I are doing a group independent study with him. He’s helping us enhance our natural psychic abilities. He says our gifts are among the strongest he’s ever seen, especially among first-years.”

  As Carly continues to blather on about her most wonderful qualities, I turn away from her, desperately seeking Ani and our drinks.

  I don’t see him, but it looks like there’s a line and a crowd milling over by a big boulder across the way. That’s probably the beer spot.

  Tuning Carly out, I’m about to make my way over there when I feel a hand clamp around my arm.

  “I said,” Carly says, spinning me back around, “what kind of tricks can you do?”

  I snatch my arm back. “Excuse me?”

  “We showed you ours, Twink. Let’s see yours.”

  “See my what, exactly?”

  The river is just a few feet behind us, and now Carly lifts an elegant hand, making a jet of water jump and swirl into a graceful arch over the crowd.

  The few remaining revelers paying her any mind cheer and clap, shouting slurred praises.

  Emory’s still levitating, and now she bends herself into a yoga pose midair, a few students laughing and trying unsuccessfully to knock her off balance.

  Blue goes for her fire magick again, this time forming a ball of it between her palms, then throwing it up in the air. It explodes in a starburst, raining down around her in a show of beautiful sparks.

  “Sorry to disappoint,” I say, because there’s no point in lying in a situation like this. “But I can’t compete with any of that. I’m still figuring out where my on-button is.”

  A few people laugh, and for a minute, I actually believe Carly and her band of bobbleheads will drop it and go back to their own magickal mutual circle jerk.

  But then a shadow falls over my face, and Emory—still levitating—casts a mean glare from above. “Maybe we can help you find it.”

  “Hard pass,” I say. “But if I ever need help, I’ll know just who to call.”

  She floats down and lands on her feet before me, an elegant dark-haired swan, and the rest of the Claires close ranks around me, including Amelia.

  The Eight of Swords drifts into my mind, and fear prickles across my skin, settling in my belly like ice.

  My eyes dart around for an escape, but before I can make a move or even call for help, Carly and Blue grab me by the arms and drag me over to the river. Somebody—Emory? Amelia?—kicks the backs of my knees, and I go down hard.

  Everything after that happens in a blur.

  I can hear the water rushing behind my head, the air cooler down here, even as the fire crackles and pops in front of us. The music is still going, and a few people gather at my feet, some laughing, some taking photos, most everyone drunk and babbling. They don’t know this is real. That I’m in danger.

  Someone’s pushing against my shoulders, tipping me backward…

  Someone’s sitting on my legs, telling me not to squirm…

  “Don’t touch me!” I shout. “Let me go! Don’t fucking touch me!”

  They’re laughing and I can’t kick out, can’t move my arms, and now the water’s sucking at my hair…

  “Let’s see if we can activate your water magick, you spirit-blessed bitch,” Blue says. Here in the darkness, the fire raging behind her, she looks like a demon. “If that doesn’t work, next we’ll try fire.”

  “Let go!” I shout again.

  Where is everyone? Why is no one helping?

  “Guys,” someone says, her voice small and weak. A flash of curly red hair before my eyes, and I know it must be Amelia. “Maybe we should stop.”

  “Quit fucking around,” Carly says, but she’s yelling at Amelia, not Blue, and Blue’s got malice in her eyes, violence on her breath.

  “Amelia, help me! Please!” I sputter and gasp, the panic taking hold in earnest, but Amelia looks behind her, then back to Carly, as if she’s waiting for permission to do the right thing.

  The water soaks my hair, my shoulders, and Blue pushes harder, impossibly strong. Soon the water’s slipping across my chest, icy cold, sucking me down, and suddenly I’m back in that canyon five years ago…

  Don’t leave me! Don’t go!

  My whole body trembles, and I cough and spit out water, struggling against Blue’s terrible hold, but there are too many hands now, too many angry faces swirling before me, too much laughter, too many camera flashes and the water’s coming and I can’t breathe and I can’t move and I can’t—

  White flame explodes from my chest, and the witches holding me down scatter like mice. There’s a scream, and suddenly I’m on my feet, my arms spread wide, my hair on fire with magick. It sings through my blood, through my very soul. My owl’s wings stretch across the span, and when I raise my arms, I call forth the wind and smolder the fire.

  I let out a howl, a yell, a primal scream from the depths of my darkness.

  The party falls silent.

  Then, as quickly as it appeared, my owl energy dissipates, and a real snowy owl floats to the sky, soaring higher and higher, leaving me a woman once again, wet and shivering on the banks of the river, all the faces staring back at me in drunk, shocked confusion.

  I level an icy glare at Blue.

  “Next time someone tells you not to touch them,” I mutter through chattering teeth, “maybe you should listen.”

  I try to storm off, but the moment I take a step, I lose all coordination. My legs go numb, my body heavy, and I sway on my feet, the whole scene darkening around the edges.

  “What the fuck is going on?” A man shouts from somewhere I can’t see, pushing his way through the tangle of drunk bodies. His voice is familiar—and angry. Ani?

  No. Baz.

  Baz, help me! I try to reach for him, but I can’t move my arms. My heart is beating fast—too fast—and my breathing is much too shallow.

  “We’re just messing with her,” Carly says. “She totally overreacted and freaked out.”

  “Let’s go home,” another says. “This party sucks.” Blue, it sounds like. There’s a smudge of pink hair in my peripheral vision, but everything is fuzzy around the edges.

  “I’ll deal with you later,” Baz says, and then he’s walking toward me. His eyes go from concerned to terrified in an instant, and he starts to run. Sprint. But he’s too far away…

  “Stevie!” he shouts. “Watch it! Somebody grab her!”

  The world tips backward again and spills me into the river, the cold water reaching up to claim me once and for all.

  Twenty-Nine

  STEVIE

  I'm naked.

  Soft, green grass tickles my bare flesh, sunlight sparkling on my eyelids through a l
ush canopy of leaves overhead. Slowly I open my eyes, inhaling a breath of sweet summer air and the fragrant scent of lilies from the floral crown on my head.

  My nude body aches, but it’s the best possible pain, abs and leg muscles burning from some unknown exertion. Between my thighs, heat still pulses. A haze of pure pleasure hangs over me like a soft cloud.

  There’s a rustling in the grass, and I turn to see the source. A man sleeps soundly beside me, his head encircled in a crown of leaves, arms painted with tattoos that swirl in beautiful black patterns across his skin.

  At the sight of his bare flesh, a shock of new, red-hot desire floods my core, the sudden intensity of it making me dizzy. I crawl to him, desperate to caress his skin, to feel his warmth beneath my fingertips.

  He stirs at my touch, his eyes opening to look at me, full of fire and light, much more red than brown in the shifting sun.

  A slow smile spreads across his face, and wordlessly he pulls me on top of him, his hands sliding down to caress my backside, his hard length ready for me once again.

  He grips his cock, and I rise up onto my knees, letting him tease my entrance with slow, tempting strokes. When I can’t take another moment, I finally claim what’s mine, sliding down over his shaft, taking him in deep, one sinfully delicious inch at a time.

  He moans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed, hands gripping my thighs.

  I want to ask him his name, to tell him mine, but I don’t want to break this spell. Instead, I sink into the pleasure of his thrusts, rolling my hips, finding our perfect synchronicity.

  He slides his palms up my ribcage, fingers teasing and tugging my nipples as I ride him harder, faster, deeper.

  I feel like I should recognize him. I know him, know his touch, the sounds of his breathy moans. But when I tried to reach for the memory of his name, it eludes me, chased away by the mounting pleasure between my thighs.

  He slides his thumb between my lips and I lick the tip, tasting the salt of his skin as my body clenches around him, demanding more with every thrust. I lean forward, the crown of lilies falling from my head as I steal a breathless kiss.

  Beneath me, my lover arches his hips, both of us wanting more, needing more, the fire building between us, pushing us farther toward that edge…

  He grips my hips and drives into me, his body shuddering, and I cry out in ecstasy, the birds scattering from the trees, bright green leaves falling like rain in their wake.

  I collapse on top of him, waiting for my breath to return. It’s in that blissful, hazy moment that I know we’re not alone.

  I peer through the mossy trees behind us. There, watching from the shadows, a dark figure looms. He’s twice the size of a man, with massive horned antlers and a long, mossy beard filthy with leaves and sticks. Beneath thick eyebrows, his eyes glow green.

  “Cernunnos,” I whisper. The beast behind us doesn't move.

  I look down at my lover, fear squeezing my chest, but he only smiles, his eyes glinting with mischief.

  “Cernunnos,” I whisper again, but he only pulls me closer, pressing his mouth to mine and rolling on top of me, pinning me beneath him.

  He’s hard for me again, and my core throbs with a fresh ache of desire, but the beast behind us is still watching. Warning.

  My lover breaks our kiss, and I gasp for breath, my heart hammering wildly as the lush, green world around us begins to dim. I try to focus on his face, his lips, the thin sheen of stubble on his jaw, those devilish eyes, but it’s all fading… fading… gone.

  The lush, sun-dappled meadow is a field of boulders in the moonlight, the tittering birdsong a rushing river.

  “Cernunnos,” I whisper again, but the eyes looking back at me now are no longer the eyes of my mysterious lover from the meadow.

  The eyes looking back at me now belong to Baz Redgrave.

  Thirty

  BAZ

  Cernunnos.

  The witch shouldn’t know that name.

  She shouldn’t be looking at me like that either, wide eyes full of desire, lips parted, cheeks darkening.

  But she definitely shouldn’t know that name.

  Hell, my heart’s slamming into my ribcage so hard I can barely think straight, but I gotta ask.

  “What did you say?” I whisper.

  “Cernunnos,” she mutters, delirious, still struggling to break into consciousness. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

  I lean in close, my ear brushing against her soft mouth. “Don’t what, Stevie?”

  “Don’t stop… Don’t stop touching me. Don’t ever stop touching me.”

  Fuck, this woman’s about to give me a heart attack. And on any other night, I might just let her do it, too. But not now. Not like this.

  Where the hell is Ani? I turn around and peer into the darkness, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I sent someone to go find him, but half these drunk fucks don’t know their dicks from their magick wands right now.

  The girls, of course, are gone. High-tailed it right out of here as soon as I pulled Stevie out of the water. Fucking Carly.

  I shake off the anger, turn my attention back to Stevie. Behind us, the river rushes past, the bonfire nothing but ashes. She can’t stay out here like this—she’ll freeze.

  “Wake up, baby. You need to wake up.” Using my sleeve, I wipe the river water from her chin. “Come on, Stevie. Come back.”

  She coughs again, then blinks rapidly. When she looks up at me now, recognition finally dawns in her eyes. “Baz?”

  “The one and only.”

  “I thought I was… What happened?” She tries to sit up, and I slide a hand behind her back to steady her.

  “Careful, Stevie. You swallowed a lot of water.”

  She clears her throat, then presses her fingers to her lips and closes her eyes. “You… you kissed me.”

  At this, I grin. Ah, if only the explanation were that simple, Little Bird.

  She looks at me again, some of the old spark finally returning to her eyes. “Did you seriously try to make out with a half-drowned woman at a party?”

  “Well, when you put it like that… No,” I finally admit. “But I did put my lips on you.”

  The sparks in her eyes turn to a blaze, hot enough to warm us both.

  I raise my hands in mock surrender. “You were turning blue. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  She’s quiet a long moment after that, and I leave her to it, the din of the party carrying on behind us, like someone falling into the river and nearly drowning is no big deal. Honestly, I don’t even think many people saw what was going on. Carly and her cronies are always gunning for attention—just another day in the life for those psychos. Hell, Carly’s been like that since we were kids—nothing new to see here.

  After a few solid minutes of Stevie’s silent brooding, I can’t take it.

  “See, I get that you’re new at all this,” I say, “but the whole idea of skinny dipping is that you leave the clothes behind.”

  “Super helpful, Baz. Thanks.” She strips off her sopping wet sweater, leaving only a thin tank top beneath, her nipples poking against the fabric. She wrings her sweater out into the dirt. Water runs in muddy rivulets behind her. Her arms are covered in goosebumps.

  I shrug out of my hoodie, wrap it around her shivering body. She sighs in relief, the chattering teeth finally subsiding.

  I try to rub some more warmth into her arms, but she tenses up.

  “You’re shivering your ass off,” I point out. “Don’t be stubborn.”

  Slowly, she relaxes under my touch.

  “Don’t try to sneak a feel,” she says.

  “Sneaking’s not my style, Little Bird. When I touch a woman, I make damn sure she knows about it.”

  She shivers again.

  It’s not working.

  “Alright,” I tell her. “This is useless. We need to get you inside.”

  She nods, and I get to my feet, helping her up and keeping an arm around her waist. She leans against me, swaying, our fa
ces close.

  “I had a strange dream before,” she says softly, nuzzling into my warmth, and there goes my damn heart again.

  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom…

  “I was in a meadow, with… with a man. And we were… you know. And there were these mossy trees and ferns and this… this half-man, half-animal, megabeast with huge antlers. He was watching us.” She looks into my eyes, a thousand thoughts swimming behind her gaze. “His name was Cernunnos. I don’t know how I knew that, but I did.”

  “The horned god of Celtic mythology,” I say. “You must’ve come across it in a book or something.”

  “The devil,” she breathes. “I thought he was the devil.”

  Now my heart’s thundering so hard, she can probably hear it too.

  “It was just a dream, Stevie. You were in bad shape.”

  “It felt so real, though. Everything about it.” Her voice is low, her eyes glistening with an emotion I can’t read. She reaches toward my face, and when she speaks again, her soft breath whispers across my lips. “And you… your eyes…”

  I grab her hand, give her a reassuring squeeze. “Just a dream, baby. Come on. Let’s go.”

  She nods and tries to walk, my arm tight around her waist, but after just a few steps, she sways again.

  “Shit,” she says. “Guess I’m not feeling so hot right now.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I got you.” I scoop her off her feet, hold her close to my chest.

  Stevie doesn’t fight me on it. Just puts her arms around my neck, finally allowing herself to relax. “Where are we going?”

  “Common room back at Iron and Bone. You need to be someplace warm, and you should probably eat something, too.”

  “Come on. You’re not seriously going to carry me a whole mile.”

  “You’re right.” I take her a few steps away from the party, the last of the revelry fading behind us. Two jagged boulders jut up beside the river, forming a sort of gateway. Before we step through, I smile and give her a quick wink. “Hold tight.”

  Stevie opens her mouth to speak, but before she can even get the first question out, there’s a blaze of purple magick, and then we’re standing in the middle of the Iron and Bone common room.