Junior Witch

by Ingrid Seymour

  We hurried across the landscape at a fast clip, a sense of urgency about Irmagard’s pace. I followed, staying just behind her billowing cloak, my eyes scanning the distance. Were we safe here? Could Nyquist find us? I wanted to ask but there wasn’t time.

  The group approached Elspeth’s cottage, but instead of going in, we followed a footpath to a side entrance where the doors were already thrown open. Glowing white light blinded me momentarily, but then I was once again inside the futuristic library.

  I’d spent so many summer hours here I should feel a sense of welcome, but all I felt was shaken. My eyes scanned the many rows of shelves curving around the room in concentric rings. Books fluttered their pages like birds being disturbed from a slumber as we streaked by and through another set of doors that had always been closed before.

  This room was smaller and also stark white. Following the rest of the building’s architecture, the meeting space was also ringed, but not by shelves, but by benches that circled the room and rose up four rows like amphitheater seating.

  Everyone took a seat on a bench while Irmagard stood in the middle, clasping her hands at her waist and watching the procession file in.

  Fedorov sat next to me and gave me a nod. He was singed and hunched over, holding his bandaged middle. Yet, his hair still looked great.

  “Alright, Professor Fedorov?” I asked.

  He nodded at me as if we were fellows-in-arms. “Nothing sabbatical and vodka can’t fix. Are you in health?”

  I shrugged. “I guess so.”

  He gave me an appreciative look. “You do good work back there.”

  Opening my mouth to speak further, I saw Irmagard was waving her hands to quiet us down. Once everyone was seated, she lifted three fingers and brought the door closed behind us.

  “Thank you for coming, those of you that had a choice. We have very little time, so we need to come to a consensus on our next plan of action.”

  “What happened?” a gruff-looking man with a huge tuft of black hair on his chest asked. Did they not have buttons where he came from?

  “There is little time to explain, General Demir. Someone will fill you in later. Let’s just say, Nyquist was not defeated. He still has the Loopers and did indeed use them.”

  “Others used them as well,” Professor Middleton added. She looked pale and withdrawn, holding her arms around her tattered robe, the skin around one eye darkening to an awful shade of purple.

  “Yes,” Irmagard confirmed. “It seems Nyquist had doled these poor people out like party favors.” Her mouth turned down as if the thought of that was more than she could bear. Then, she straightened her shoulders and continued. “We also know he is in league with Mystro Ponomarenko.”

  There was a gasp from a few of the people I didn’t recognize. I wanted to ask who this Mystro Ponomarenko was, but Nurse Taishi spoke up before I could.

  “Where are the fae?” he asked.

  Irmagard nodded. “They were successful in their escape, taking both young fae prisoners back with them.”

  Both young fae prisoners had to be Sinasre and Anama. That gave me some relief. At least they were safe and with their father.

  Tempest’s hand shot up in the air. Her face was hard, challenging. It was as if she wanted someone to question her presence so she could lash out at them, but no one did. Rowan sat beside her still not looking at me. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of catching me staring, so I let my eyes bore a hole in the white tile floor instead.

  “What is Nyquist going to do with the Loopers?” Tempest asked.

  Irmagard sucked in a deep breath. “That is what we do not know. We know he is using their powers to control the portals. Since Loopers can manipulate space as well as time, he’s using that aspect of their power to do that, allowing only those he deems worthy to travel that way.”

  “So he controls the portals. So what?” Many of us can teleport. We don’t need the portals,” chest hair man said.

  Irmagard locked eyes with him. “As you well know, only the most powerful can travel via teleportation spells. There is also travel to the fae realm—only portals make that possible. I’m also afraid of what else he might be planning. Portals connect our magic. Having full command of them will put much in Nyquist’s control, including the regents who want to be close to power. It will put the Academy and its sister schools in his control as well. As of now, the only powerful portal that is safe is at this Academy. It is too ancient to be controlled.”

  “Does that mean he can’t come here?” I asked, my anxiety spiking.

  Heads turned to me, faces curious, some unkind. Why was everyone looking at me like I was a freak?

  “Unfortunately, he can come here, dear,” Irmagard replied, “but he would be very foolish to do so.”

  I wanted to ask more, but Rowan was the one to interject. “Where is Charlie? She wasn’t at the battle, but if I know her, something has to be wrong. She wouldn’t just sit aside when a fight like that was raging.”

  He was asking where was Charlie? Was this some sort of game?

  I expected Irmagard to check Rowan for brain damage, but instead, she nodded at Fedorov. He pulled out one crumpled, blackened hand and moved his fingers, slowly forming a spell. Then he waved them over my face.

  My skin tingled and stretched as a spell worked over my features. I touched my face, throwing a frightened glance at Fedorov. “What are you doing?”

  He patted my shoulder. “No fear, Charlie. You are you again. I change your face and keep you safe.”

  “What?” I asked. Glancing around, I caught Rowan’s gaze. He stared at me as if I’d just entered the room.

  Fedorov had done something to my face just before we burst out of Nyquist’s dreamscape.

  Irmagard took a step closer to me. “We had to alter your appearance so that Nyquist wouldn’t know it was you. Fedorov and I agreed on that before you went into the cottage.”

  Shit! It seemed my excursion with Fedorov had needed approval.

  ”If Nyquist had seen you working with us,” she continued, “he’d know you could not be trusted and your time at the Academy would be over. As it is, you can go back. That is one of the many things we need to discuss.”

  There was a small rumble from the crowd. I clutched my cheeks, wanting a mirror to make sure all my features were in the right place. Was the room hot or was I just freaking out a bit? All of this was too much.

  “It isn’t just the portals we are concerned about,” Irmagard continued. “We are also very concerned with Nyquist accessing the Loopers’ ability to travel through time. It is a much harder skill, one that usually takes Loopers a lifetime to perfect, but we have word that Nyquist is determined to use it.”

  “For what means?” Professor Middleton asked.

  Irmagard locked eyes with her. “That is what we need to find out.”

  Then she turned to me. “Charlie, we have something very big we need to ask of you.”

  “Lynssa, I do not agree,” Fedorov said in a fatherly tone.

  I was about to reach over and pat his hand when I stopped. Had he just said… Lynssa?

  He must have been mistaken.

  My eyes traveled up to Irmagard and time seemed to stand still.

  The long hair was hers, but the outfit was all wrong, too plain and boring. And when had she ever been without Gerald, her ferret? Plus, she’d used so many amazing powers during the battle.

  No, it couldn’t be.

  I stared into her face which softened as she gazed deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry, dear. It had to be done.”

  “What?” I said, stumbling up. My ears were ringing and my head spun. “Who… who are you?”

  “It’s me,” she said quietly. “It’s Lynssa McIntosh.”

  The room tilted wildly, or at least that’s what it seemed to do as her words bashed into me like a pounding wave.

  “You’re dead.”

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “No,” I staggered up
and then back.

  Then I turned and bolted out of the room.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  SPRING SEMESTER

  MID-MARCH

  I ran blindly for several minutes, ending up in some sort of pasture. Coming to a large boulder, I leaned against it, then sat and clutched my head in my hands.

  How could Dean McIntosh be alive? How?

  No one else seemed shocked. Was I the only one who hadn’t known? I’d cried for her, mourned my heart out. Had she known how much it’d hurt me? She had to have known how I cared for her. Still, she’d let me believe she was dead. Ripped my goddamn heart out.

  Fuck.

  Tears streamed down my face. I felt… betrayed. I felt angry. So so angry. How could she? She’d been like a mother to me.

  “Hey,” a voice said.

  I looked up and found Rowan.

  Swiping tears across my cheeks, I glared at him. "What are you doing here?"

  “They sent me,” he said softly. “But I wanted to come.”

  “Did you know?” I shot at him.

  “About Lynssa?”

  My glare answered. “Of course, you did. Everyone did. Everyone but idiotic Charlie.” I fisted my hands and pressed them to my thighs. I wanted to hit something. Blast it out of existence. My cuffs flashed in agreement. How could I not have seen? Was I that blind?

  He stepped a little closer but knew well enough to stay out of striking distance. “She had to keep it from you, Charlie. She had to keep it from all the students. To protect you from Regent Nyquist. He’s a bad man and was trying to force the school’s board to join him with some pretty nasty, underhanded tricks. He wanted to undo what my father had accomplished with non-wizards as well as bring back outdated practices that have been abolished for decades.”

  “She could’ve just left then. Gone to Romania or something.”

  He sighed. “She tried that. Remember? She faked her own kidnapping to stall the Board. They couldn’t hold a vote without a dean. Then Nyquist doubled down on his efforts to find her. He sent some bad people to look for her. We think they killed Lynssa’s assistant, Priscilla Fordyce. Fedorov helped Lynssa fake her death after that. Nyquist had to believe she was dead so she could work at keeping all of us safe. She had no choice.”

  “We all have choices,” I said bitterly.

  Rowan tilted his head. “If it means anything, I tried to tell you at the party, but you didn’t want to hear it.”

  “Oh, so, it’s time for ‘I told you so’? That’s perfect.” I turned my face away and stared at a blue feathered chicken pecking in the dirt. How simple its life must be. No one you loved and trusted lying to you, making a fool out of you. I wanted that life right now as crazy as that sounded.

  “Charlie, I want to explain everything. The dean wants to explain everything, but there’s no time. They need you to come back. There’s something they want to ask you to do. And I’m here…” he dropped his eyes to the ground, “I’m here to ask you not to.”

  “What?” I glanced up at him.

  Pain etched into the lines of Rowan’s devilishly handsome face. “What they’re going to ask you to do is dangerous. More dangerous than anything you’ve ever done times a thousand. Trust me, I know. I’ve shared some of your crazy escapades.”

  I blinked up at him, waiting for more.

  “It’s a suicide mission. Do you hear me? I don’t think you should do it.” His eyes crinkled as he watched for my response.

  “What do they want me to do?” I said.

  “They want you to go back to the Academy and become a spy, to convince Nyquist you’re a neutral party, maybe even on his side, and to find out exactly what his plans are with his remaining Loopers.”

  When I said nothing, he continued. “You know he’ll see right through you. He knows your loyalties are with the dean.”

  “Does he?” Right now, I didn’t feel very loyal to the woman who brought me so much pain.

  “Fedorov doesn’t want you to do it,” he added.

  I stood up, staring at Rowan’s concerned expression. Deep into his dark eyes. “And why don’t you want me to do it?”

  “Because it’s stupid. It’s too dangerous. I don’t…” He looked away and then back. “I don’t want to see you hurt. Not ever again.”

  I took a step closer. My heart was pounding for all kinds of reasons. “You don’t want to see anyone get hurt or you don’t want to see me get hurt.”

  He reached out and carefully took my hand, his touch still electric.

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt. You, Charlotte Rivera. Only you.” His thumb caressed the back of my hand softly.

  I held his hand for a moment. “I like that you care. That’s something at least.” My body reacted on its own, warming, wanting.

  But then I thought of the other Loopers I’d seen trapped in the dreamscape. Some were only children. I thought of Nyquist, of his face as he killed teachers who opposed him. I thought of the damage he could do if he used the portal’s vast power.

  In the end, the decision was easy to make.

  “Take me back there,” I told him. “It sounds like I have a job to do.”

  I awoke in a bed, a pounding at the door.

  Disoriented once again, I glanced around. I was back in my dorm room. In my bed.

  I touched my chest, my legs. All there.

  Dean McIntosh had transported me back after I’d agreed to spy for them. I hadn’t spoken to her, barely looked at her as she wove her transportation spell over me. I could tell she was sorry for what she’d done, but I wasn’t ready to forgive. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  Fedorov was different. Him, I’d let pat my back and whisper advice in my ear. Then he pressed the little silver box I’d seen him use in Nyquist’s house into my hands.

  “Use carefully,” he’d said in his accented English.

  “I will. You heal,” I’d told him.

  Back in my room, the pounding sounded again. “Charlie! Are you in there?”

  It was Disha.

  I glanced at the clock. Four AM. What in the world was she doing outside my door at this hour? Then I remembered that everyone was probably up, roused by the battle and the explosions that rocked campus. Or had I been gone longer than that? Was I gone more than a day? The group had made it clear we needed to hurry so that Nyquist wouldn’t suspect anything or it would all be for naught. Had they gotten me back in time?

  I jumped up and ran to the door, only then noticing that someone had transformed my war-torn, battle-dirty clothing into a clean tank top and sleep shorts.

  Flinging open the door, I stared at Disha whose fist was raised for another pounding.

  “Oh, God.” She pulled me into an embrace, her warm arms encircling me. “I thought you were… I don’t know. The things they’re saying. People are…. They’re… Oh, never mind. Let’s go.”

  She grabbed my hand and started pulling me into the hallway.

  “Disha, what’s going on? Where are we going?”

  Her voice shook as she answered, still tugging me down the hall.

  “There’s investigators. Magical Law Enforcement officers are here and they’re looking for suspects. One of our own is a murderer and…” She gulped before glancing at me.

  “They’re asking about you, Charlie.”

  To be continued in book 4, SENIOR WITCH, Part 1.

  SNEAK PEEK OF SENIOR WITCH, FALL SEMESTER

  SPRING SEMESTER

  MID-MARCH

  I stared at the dead body laid out on the grass before us as everyone else stared at me.

  “I’m going to ask you this again,” the Magical Law Enforcement guard growled, glaring at me as if he wanted nothing more than to rip my head off. “Did you have anything to do with the attack tonight?”

  My head swiveled from side to side taking it all in. The night was still dark, but dawn was beginning to turn the horizon gray. It had to be after five AM, yet everyone was out of bed. Students stood on the lawn, shivering and h
olding themselves and each other as the Academy buildings appeared as black outlines against the morphing sky. The crowd was silent, a mass of terrified faces glancing between the line of officers and me.

  Disha stood at my side, clutching my arm like a lifeline. Her face was also twisted with fear. She hadn’t been at the battle, didn’t know I had been there and had watched that teacher’s death. She was alive earlier this evening, fighting an unwinnable battle and now her body lay on the lawn like a piece of trash. Her name was Professor Hernandez. She’d been a senior level magical herbs teacher and now she was dead.

  I knew who killed her, and he stood beside the line of mean-looking officers.

  Regent Nyquist.

  Or, rather, Dean Nyquist, Head of our University and vile murderer.

  The old dean stepped forward, holding a hand out as if to bring calm to the situation. I stared at his arthritic hand, remembering how he placed it on Professor Hernandez’s chest as she stayed frozen in time. Nyquist had absorbed Anama’s Looper power—or whatever it was he did with the poor people he kept in his magical dreamscape prison—and slowed time with it, then used his advantage to kill one teacher and maim another. I’d heard the other victim was in the infirmary in critical condition.

  We might have two dead teachers by the time this night was through, but that wasn’t the worst of it.

  The worst was Nyquist was going to get away with it.

  Anyone who opposed him had magicked themselves to Turkey. I took solace in knowing they were safe, unlike me, who now stood ten feet from a madman.

  He peered at me with soft, wavering eyes as the wind tugged thin strands of hair across his bald spot. His concern was a show for the crowd around us. Only I knew the truth.

  “Charlie, it’s alright. Nothing is going to happen to you. Just, please, tell these men the truth. I’ll do everything I can to help you if you’ve done something…” He trailed off, his voice catching.

  If he sprouted fake tears, I might lose it.

  I glanced from him to the line of men ready to take me down at the slightest provocation. Magical Law Enforcement—or M.L.E. for short—did not play around. They were rough and quick to blame. I knew if I got on the wrong side of those steroid-swollen arms, I’d be in trouble.