Essence of Magic (Ruby Morgan Book 1)

by LJ Rivers

  Several different buildings stood at odd places throughout the grounds, a couple of modern-looking student houses towering along the walls that went all around campus, according to the map on my phone. There was even a chapel, a library and more student houses further away. The loud chatter from the numerous students who had gathered in the midday sun made my lips form a broad smile. This was nothing like Cheshire.

  I pressed my thumb to my phone and swiped sideways until I found the White Willow University app, scrolling down to tap the map icon. Pinching my fingers to zoom in on my location, I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I had to find the Accommodations Office, get settled, then maybe head over to the events of Freshers’ Week, if I could manage to find my way around this place.

  “Looking for something?” A girl wearing a layered white dress stood in front of me with her phone raised, taking pictures. Her golden hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, the ends dancing between her shoulder blades. Combined with her outfit, she looked like I imagined a Greek goddess would.

  “The Accommodations Office?”

  “Cool. You’re moving into campus today?”

  Duh. What gave it away? “Yes. I’m moving into—” I glanced at the map. “Craydon Court.”

  The girl snapped a picture and showed me all her perfect, white teeth. “That’s my house too. I’m Jeannine Lune, but everyone calls me Jen.”

  She spoke perfect English, but the way she pronounced her name and almost made the h in house silent hinted at a French heritage.

  “Ruby. Ruby Morgan.”

  “Awesome. Love your name. Can I take your picture? You’re perfect for my Insta.”

  “Uhm.” I smiled awkwardly, thinking about how dishevelled I looked. I hadn’t showered or brushed my teeth since yesterday, as my train had left so early that I couldn’t be bothered this morning. Not that anyone could smell me from looking at a picture. Sod it. Who cared, anyway?

  “Sure. What’s your Insta about?”

  “Hashtag Feminism. You fit the profile.” Jen winked and pressed her thumb repeatedly on the phone before she seemed satisfied. “The Accommodations Office is past Brady’s Breakfast, and behind Raven Court. Can’t miss it if you head through the lilac archway.”

  “Thank you.”

  “See you around, Red.”

  “See ya.”

  I turned away from Jen and continued along a walkway past the lake, making a mental note that this would be a good place for my morning run. A boy and a girl stood underneath a white willow, close to the edge of the water, shaded by the canopy above. They were both wearing matching uni jumpers. A pair of red sneakers on the girl’s feet stood out against the green grass. The boy had his hood up, spikes of brown hair sticking out. He kept turning his head this way and that.

  I squinted. What were they doing?

  The girl handed something over, covering one hand with the other. As the item passed between them, a spear of light hit the plastic panel in the boy’s hand. I bit down on my tongue, nearly dropping all my stuff and sprinting down to the pair of them. There was no escaping it. And though I was well aware that MagX had become almost as common as weed in London, I had hoped to avoid it—at least for a while. Every bone in my body told me to run over and grab that blood panel away from them.

  I slowed my steps. Could I?

  A flick of my hand, and I could send a force field across the lawn to push that panel into the water, instantly contaminating it and rendering it useless. I looked around at the buzz of other students all over the campus, then kicked my heel into the suitcase.

  Don’t be stupid, Ruby. You’re not alone. Mum had been very clear about the need to hide who I was and the things I could do. It was dangerous enough in Cheshire, let alone here. There could easily be a Harvester at any corner, on the lookout for Magicals. However much I wanted to, I couldn’t risk it. Besides, I didn’t want to repeat my experience with Susan and Haley. I made a mental image of those red shoes, and that girl dealing magical blood. I had no idea how, but I would find out who was distributing the drugs and somehow shut them down. Dad’s death would not go unpunished, and this was the only way I knew to honour his memory.

  Turning my back to the willow, I sped up again and willed myself to walk away. It was simply something I would have to get used to. At least it might be easier than I thought to find both users and dealers. And as long as I didn’t let any Harvesters close enough to discover who—or what—I was, I would be safe.

  Key and key card in hand, I climbed the steps to the second floor of Craydon Court. The front door to number four was kept ajar by a pair of colourful Converses, and a couple of girls sat on the porch, sharing a smoke. A young man in a blue overall, a toolbox in one hand and a large keychain on his belt, tapped one of the girls on the shoulder.

  “There’s a designated smoking area down there.” He pointed to the corner of the small garden by the entrance to Craydon Court. “I have enough that needs fixing, I don’t need to collect cigarette butts all day long.”

  The girl held up a beer can and dropped the cigarette end into it. “Problem solved.” She grinned at the janitor.

  He shook his head and walked off. The girls giggled, then waved at me as I pushed my way into my new home. The living space was empty and most doors in the hallway were shut. One was propped open, however, allowing The Killers to belt out “Smile Like You Mean It” into every nook and cranny.

  I peeked into the room. A short girl with round glasses and thick, dark hair sat on the windowsill, immersed in what looked like a brick of a book.

  “Hi,” I said, but didn’t receive an answer. “Hey,” I tried again, a bit louder.

  The girl looked up, then pointed at her ears. She jumped to the floor and tapped the keyboard next to a huge computer screen with a familiar fruit logo. The music died in an instant.

  “Sorry. Couldn’t hear you over the music,” she chirped.

  “It was kind of loud,” I said, hoping I didn’t come off as rude.

  “You moving in?”

  “Door number six.”

  “Sweet. You’re right next to me. I’m Charlotte Carolina Medina Hargraves by the way, but life’s too short for all that. Call me Charlie.” She twitched her nose, and her glasses didn’t manage to take away the glint in her dark brown eyes. “My parents never could agree on anything.”

  I glanced at the print on Charlie’s t-shirt and almost laughed. Don’t let the Muggles bring you down was written in large letters, decorated with a wand and sparkling stars. I had no idea what a muggle was, but it still made me smile.

  “Ok, Charlie. I’m Ruby.” I looked from the Captain Marvel poster above Charlie’s bed to the book she had left open. “You studying already?”

  “Have to stay on top of things, you know. History buff.” Charlie raised her hand in the air to point at herself.

  “Journalism,” I said.

  “Cool. We’re both sort of in the research department then. Jen studies history too, but she’s going to focus on women’s history and cultural studies. I’m majoring in the Portuguese colonisation of Brazil. Jen and I moved in on September 9th—gosh, we’ve been here two weeks already, and Duncan was here before us. He’s in room five, Jen’s in four.”

  I turned the key in my hand. “You want to go with me to Freshers’ Fair?” The question sort of fell out of my mouth. “Honestly, this place is huge. I had planned to go but I’m not sure where anything is.”

  “Sure thing. They’ll be open all week, but we should get in line to make sure we get the best stuff—” Charlie glanced at her phone. “Within the next half hour. Got to get there early.”

  “I’ll just dump my stuff and maybe take a quick shower first, if that’s ok?”

  “If you must. But I won’t wait any longer than thirty minutes. The coupons will fly like hot cupcakes, and I want to grab as many freebies as possible.”

  “I’ll be quick.”

  A green light came on as I shoved the key card into the slot
by the door to my room. I pushed it open with my shoulder and dropped my backpack onto the bed before sitting next to it.

  It wasn’t bad. About the same size as my room back home. It had a desk, a bed and a bin, as well as a fair number of shelves. It would do. There was one other door in the room, and I sent a silent thank you to Mum, who had agreed to let me rent an en suite. It cost a bit extra, though we both valued my privacy. For a moment, I wished they had allowed pets on campus. No one had claimed Kit when I left home, not that I thought anyone would come to our cottage way outside Cheshire, and I considered him part of our little family by now. Mum had grown quite attached to the furry animal, and I was glad she had company when I wasn’t around.

  I fell back on the bed. A few cracks ran across the peeling paint, and several pieces of blue tack were plastered to the assumedly once white ceiling, which was more of a brownish yellow at this point. I wasn’t sure why anyone would put posters up on the ceiling, though. There was enough wall space for four or five good-sized posters if I wanted to decorate the walls, but I didn’t need a poster falling on my head while I was sleeping.

  My joints ached and I wanted to curl up for a while, but Charlie was waiting.

  Ten minutes later, I had pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a green tank top. With no time to dry my unruly hair, I braided it to one side instead. A couple of quick strokes with mascara and I was all set.

  The sound of someone knocking made me nearly poke my eye out.

  “Come in,” I called as I dug the mascara back into my sparsely filled makeup bag.

  “Ready?”

  Charlie stood in the doorway with the Instagrammer I had met earlier, Jen. She towered at least a head above Charlie, though I could swear they were both about the same age as me.

  “Hey, Red,” Jen said. “Later came sooner than expected, no?”

  “I knew I heard a little bell at the back of my head when Charlie mentioned a Jen,” I said, smiling and holding out my hand to her. “Thanks for your help earlier.”

  “No probs.”

  “You’ve met?” Charlie asked.

  “Briefly,” I said.

  “But enough to know that we clicked,” Jen said. “Right, Red?”

  “Definitely,” I said, my heart thumping with excitement.

  Charlie looked at her phone and tapped the screen. “We’ve really got to get going. There’s bound to be a line already.”

  Jen rolled her eyes. “Relax. There’s a ton of goodies to go around. We’ll be fine.”

  “I’m ready,” I said as I shoved my phone and key card into my back pockets before exiting the room.

  I was off to Freshers’ Fair. What a rush. Little Ruby Morgan from Cheshire was a real student in London! I knew, deep in my heart, that whatever came next, my life was about to change.

  Chapter Seven

  Freshers’ Fair looked every bit what I had read, and then some. When the three of us rounded the corner of one of the buildings, I just had to smile. This was why I needed to go to a real university. All those people, all the noise, all the possibilities!

  Outside a five-storey building, Walton Hall, according to the sign above the doors, at least twenty-five tents and pavilions were spread out on the lawn. Hundreds of students buzzed between the stands, carrying canvas bags with varying logos and colours—some of them already stuffed to the brim.

  “I’m prepared to break my back carrying freebies,” Jen said. “And I know exactly where to start. I’m dying for a slice of pizza.”

  She strolled to the nearest pavilion where two women in pink waitress uniforms were handing out slices as fast as they could.

  I inhaled the smell of pizza and looked at Charlie, who wiggled her eyebrows and nodded back at me before we ran after our starving friend.

  “So, now we know Franco’s is an acceptable pizza place,” Jen said between bites. “We need a pub as well, but we’ll work that out later.”

  “I think I’ll look for the journalist club,” I said, washing down the last bite with a gulp of lemonade from Franco’s logoed bottle. “They call it The Real Truth Society, would you believe?”

  “Not the fake news, huh?” Charlie winked at me. “But yes, go find your partners in crime, Rubes. Jen and I will—”

  “Please, call me Ru, ok? Rubes has a creepy ring in my ears. Long story.”

  “And I’m Jen as it rolls easier off your British tongues,” Jen said. “So—meet up in half an hour, oui?” She looked around, using her height to its full advantage. “There!” She pointed. “That sign says meeting point.”

  Charlie and I agreed.

  On my phone, the uni app told me that the journalists’ stand was inside. I looked at Jen and Charlie, who had already moved to the next stand, grabbing a canvas bag each to start filling them with freebies. Charlie grinned at me, and I smiled back. Two friends already. That should put a smile on my mum’s face too, when I texted her later.

  I looked down on my phone again and didn’t notice the shadow coming at me from the right. The collision would have sent me flying had it not been for the shadow grabbing my arm. It pulled me up inches before I hit the old stone steps leading into Walton Hall.

  “Whoa!” said the shadow. “You ok?”

  I turned my head from the worn-out steps to a smiling face. A dark shadow of stubble framed the smile, and the stranger’s eyes looked at me, worried. Eyes that made me reconsider renaming my own blue eyes to a lesser version of the colour.

  “Y-yes, thank you,” I said, steadying myself. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “No, please,” said the blue-eyed stubble guy. “It was my fault entirely. Stupid to run around with all these people here. Name’s Brendan, by the way, Brendan O’Callaghan.”

  The Irish accent nearly made my knees buckle again but his grip held me firmly in place. He let go of my arm and held his hand out to greet me.

  I shook it. “Ruby. Ruby Morgan.”

  “So, Ruby Ruby Morgan, where are you headed?”

  That smile. I swallowed and hoped he didn’t notice. Get a grip, girl.

  “To the—eh—” Crap, where was I going again? “Journalist stand,” I finally managed.

  “Cool, that’s just next to my society. Allow me, Lady Lady Morgan?”

  “Just Ruby, please. And thanks, but I’ll manage without the support.”

  To be honest, I felt more than a little compelled to link my arm into his as if we were walking into this old building at a different day in time, when it was shiny and new. I had no intention of any romantic activities, though. Studying would require all my time, and I also needed to find a job if I was to have any hope of affording to stay at uni.

  Inside, Brendan strolled through the corridor and into what I assumed was the actual Walton Hall. The double doors were open, and the hall was just as full of students and noise as the area outside, if not more.

  I followed Brendan as he manoeuvred through the crowd, zigging and zagging when he did, eventually finding myself in front of a table with a wide-eyed girl behind it. The sign above her said The Real Truth Society.

  “Here we are, milady,” said Brendan, taking a dramatic bow.

  The gesture was both a little cute and a little funny. I almost made a curtsy, feigning holding my skirt up to the sides, but thought the better of it. “Thank you again, Brendan. Very gentleman-like of you.”

  “I’m right over here.” He nodded at the next stand over. “Come and say hello when you’re done selling your soul to the truth, yeah?”

  I let out a little laugh.

  “Hi, honey!” said the girl behind the table, her American heritage apparent through three syllables.

  “Hello. I’m taking a Journalism BA, and understand this is the right club to join?”

  “The only one, baby!” said the American girl and turned the iPad on the table towards me. “Just enter your student ID there, and your soul is apparently ours.” She said the last words loudly enough for Brendan to hear.

 
; He snapped his fingers. “I knew it!” he called. “Don’t do it, Ruby Ruby! Please, stay with us mortals!” He let his voice drift away, kneeling and stretching his arms towards me at the same time.

  “Jeez,” the girl moaned. “If I wanted to hear an Irishman complaining, I’d go to a U2 concert and hear Bono cry about the environment or something.”

  I stifled a giggle and entered the last digits of my ID, then watched as my name and profile picture popped up on the screen. “Is this you?” it said in a box underneath. I tapped the “Yes” button, and made a mental note to change the picture—if that was an option. The girl that had snapped the selfie two weeks earlier, when she registered in the student admin system, had been both afraid and excited. It showed. I wanted to leave the old Cheshire Ruby behind, and look more confident and grown up.

  “Diane Cooper,” the American girl said, and looked at the iPad. “Welcome, Ruby Morgan!”

  “Thanks. Do I do anything now, or—?”

  “We’re desperately in need of more people on the stand,” Diane said. “If you want, you could help out here during the week?”

  “Sure. Tomorrow, maybe?”

  “Or Thursday—totally up to you. But yeah, that’d be great. Also, we’re having a party tonight.” She handed me a flyer. “It’s not mandatory, but trust me, you don’t wanna miss it.” She winked and turned her attention to a boy who had come to the table. “Hi there!”

  I looked at the neighbouring stand, but Brendan was busy helping a couple of students filling their bags. I turned and walked outside again. Maybe I should get one of those bags myself, and see if Jen’s freebie talk was worth it? I still had another fifteen minutes until I was to meet—

  “—the fudge is your problem?” a girl shouted nearby.

  Didn’t I know that voice? I found my way back outside and searched for the source.

  It was Charlie. She was standing toe to toe with a girl behind a pavilion at the edge of the fair. The other girl had her finger up in Charlie’s face, and they were seconds away from throwing punches. The familiar tingling in my blood began as small balls of light formed in my palms. I started towards the girls, trying not to run.