Law and Disorder

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Law and Disorder Page 5

by E Hall


  “Good luck,” Audra says. “It’s not just the food that’s changed. There are magical reinforcements on the dorm windows.”

  I’ve noticed the shimmer of magic—it’s not like golden fairy dust but grim and threatening.

  “Barbed wire along the fences,” Yassi says.

  “New curriculum,” Audra adds.

  “New punishments,” Wyatt says.

  “New administration.” Yassi’s brow furrows.

  “Yeah, I met Ms. Storch,” I say, recalling the woman with the crimson outfit and stern command.

  “I think she’s someone to watch out for,” Yassi says.

  “And Derrington.” Audra flares her nostrils.

  “For sure. They’re probably in cahoots. I hear Storch is part dragon shifter,” Yassi whispers.

  “Oh, great,” Audra says.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Winnie asks.

  “Dragons don’t have the best reputation among magicals,” Audra says. “They tend to aspire to gain power and possessions at all costs.”

  Wyatt shrugs. “Not all of them. Some were corrupted by a grim curse.”

  Yassi shivers and then says. “So about those changes. New pie flavors?” I can tell she’s trying to infuse her voice with cheer.

  “Yum, tell me more,” Winnie Tarbell says then turns. “For instance, who’s that?”

  A guy with golden hair and golden eyes enters the dining hall. Almost everyone stops and stares as he waits in line for dinner.

  However, another, more familiar figure in front of him in line draws my attention. JJ wears his jaunty hat atop his head, an old-fashioned suit, and has the kind of confidence you can’t buy, the kind that you can’t wear, and the kind that knew my name without being told. What is going on?

  Yassi glances at me and JJ then tilts her head. “I’ve never seen him before.” Her eyes close about halfway. “Hmm. Interestingly cute. Is that a thing? He must be a transfer student.”

  I get up from the table and hurry toward him. He wears a guarded expression. The kind that warns everyone to stay away.

  “Are you JJ?” I ask as if I need to. There’s no mistaking him.

  He blinks slowly but doesn’t smile. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t ask questions.”

  I tuck my head back. “Well, hello to you too.”

  “Seriously, Maija, you have no idea what you’ve gotten into.” He glances around suspiciously.

  Maybe he’s a few eggs short a dozen—that’s one of my mother’s expressions. Then again, I am at a magical reform school.

  Yassi gestures at me to come back over. I hesitate, wanting answers. But certain JJ’s not going to give me any. He bites into a green apple. I watch as he crunches, mesmerized by his unyielding lips. Drawn to his mysterious gray eyes.

  “Maybe you won’t give me answers, but that won’t stop me from asking questions,” I say before storming off.

  At my back, I hear him mutter, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Yassi says, “He doesn’t seem too friendly.” Then she gestures toward the golden boy. “Him on the other hand...”

  “Who?” I ask.

  She points. “That is Bobby Gold. Everyone has a crush on him. Especially her.” A girl, also with golden hair, sits imperiously at a nearby table as if she were the reigning queen supreme.

  Audra rolls her eyes. “That’s Honey. Yes, her name is Honey. And yes, her parents named her that. All you need to know is she’s the alpha queen bee, has a girl posse, is rich, and is not above using her family’s money and influence to get what she wants.”

  “She’s also manipulative and a liar,” Audra mumbles.

  “Consider yourself warned,” Yassi says.

  “If her parents are influential, then what is she doing here if this is now a reform school?” I ask.

  “By law, we all have to register our magical abilities. Now, instead of being special, we’re criminals,” Audra says. “Likely, parents don’t know.”

  Yassi sighs as though the social hierarchy is a more important topic at the moment.

  Where do I fit in?

  “Oh, I don’t.” Yassi puts her hands up. “Sorry. I did it again. I’ll get out of your head now.”

  I shrug. “It’s like we’re having a one-sided conversation without talking, but what do you mean?”

  “I’m a wood nymph and do my best not to fit in anyone’s box. Not labeling ourselves, or more accurately not pigeonholing ourselves, you know?”

  I think about this a moment.

  “Everyone here has one thing in common: magic and sometimes it seems like that’s what divides us the most,” Yassi says.

  Wyatt shakes his head and his hair ripples like a silky sheet.

  Yassi blinks slowly, watching him.

  A muscle in Wyatt’s jaw ticks. “Yeah. I’ve already heard people making fun of my kind. For the record, I don’t frolic in meadows. I’m an elf. A warrior. And proud of it.”

  “More like prisoner.” Audra’s tone is low, serious. “Food aside, everything here seems about the same as it ever did, but this is a reform school now. We’re criminals. We have to be careful.”

  “After what Chancellor West said, maybe things will go back to normal,” I say, trying to be hopeful.

  “Wishful thinking,” Audra replies.

  Bobby sits down at our table. Winnie Tarbell chokes on her pile of slop and Audra’s cheeks tint pink. His attention floats over to me. “Hello. Haven’t seen you here before.”

  Yassi fights rolling her eyes. I think she read his mind. “This is Maija.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Maija.” He takes my hand and then closes his eyes. “Witch.”

  I draw my hand away, feeling like he saw all of me—like he saw me naked. But when I look at his square jaw, full lips, and golden eyes, I suddenly don’t mind so much. A little sound like a purr accidentally escapes. I take a long sip of cold water.

  Bobby snorts. “I overheard what you all were saying. They’re going to try to reform us? It’s bound to backfire. We’re too different. Werewolves running all over campus. Vampires creeping around. Dwarves, mermaids… It spells disaster.”

  “Wait, mermaids are real?” I ask, eager to change the subject.

  “Merpeople,” Yassi corrects.

  “My question is how is the administration going to accommodate them? If they think I’m taking my classes down in the pond, they’re vastly mistaken.” Bobby shrugs like this isn’t his problem.

  “Better than being at the Iron Tower,” Audra mutters.

  Yassi rounds on Bobby, “If you’d pay attention in class you’d know that merpeople can come on land. There are ways.”

  He scoffs and leans closer to her. “Whatever. If you paid attention, you’d see that this is all pointless.”

  Wyatt stiffens and clenches his fists.

  Bobby pauses... “An interesting time to be a criminal.” Bobby casts a smolder in my direction and then gets up to clear his tray.

  I watch him and then catch JJ across the room, a black and white image as though plucked from an old photograph, gazing in my direction. No, glaring.

  Chapter 9

  ★

  After dessert, a sliver of peach pie—I couldn’t resist—Wyatt walks with Yassi and me to the dorm.

  The twilight shadows, the mild late summer air, and the low murmur of them talking remind me of where I am—it feels magical. High school magical. Then again there’s the glowing barbed wire in the distance along the boundary walls. Reform school gloom. I don’t know which. I don’t quite believe that I’m a witch.

  Yassi’s words echo in recent memory. She said she tries not to fit in. Maybe that’s the point after all. Maybe by being myself (a witch?), finding my way at Riptivik won’t be too difficult. Even though I’m starting at the beginning here, maybe I can just be me. First, I have to figure out who that is. Second, I have to figure out a way to get out of here because if nothing else, I do not like the look of the barbed wire or the sou
nd of reform school. I’m not a criminal and I’m certain that none of the people I’ve met so far have done anything wrong.

  Lanterns illuminate the path back toward the ivy-covered dorms, and I feel a surge of warmth, like the sun passing overhead, or a star brightening, even though night has fallen.

  Yassi and Wyatt walk a few steps ahead. Despite everything, they’re laughing and falling in love. It’s so obvious and so sweet I can’t help but smile.

  When we reach the wooden porch in front of the dormitory, Wyatt says goodnight to Yassi and trots off.

  Yassi’s laugh turns into a long sigh. “Isn’t he handsome?” The hearts in her eyes tell me she’s definitely not talking about Quince.

  When we enter the dorm, Yassi spreads her arms wide and says, “Welcome to Penny House.”

  An irritated (and irritatingly high pitched) voice says, “Fiona Pennylegion Oakes House, actually.”

  Yassi rolls her eyes. “Correction, Honey Oakes’s great, great, how many was it again?” She waves her hand dismissively and not waiting for Honey’s response says, “Never mind. We call it Penny House.”

  Honey cuts her eyes at Yassi. “By the end of this year, you’ll learn to be respectful.”

  Yassi’s eyes lower halfway and she says, “Honey, respect is something earned and you know the exact moment you lost mine.”

  Honey grits her teeth. “Get out of my head or I’ll report you.”

  “Defensive use is not prohibited,” Yassi counters.

  Honey shakes her head. “You better watch out. Things are different now.” Then her eyes flash, noticing me for the first time. She hesitates as though we’ve met and she can’t remember my name, but of course, we haven’t. She must come to some unpleasant conclusion because next, she glowers at me—full on narrowed eyes and pinched lips.

  Yassi mutters, “Don’t mind her, she’s bitter. Long story about a boy we both had a crush on. It turns out he asked me to the Sweetheart Dance last year.”

  As we shuffle out of the entryway, she goes on. “She thought I’d told Dane yes. I didn’t because our friendship meant more to me than a boy, but she went ahead and gave me a tummy trouble brew. Before I realized what hit me, I was in the infirmary and she took my place and went to the Sweetheart Dance with Dane. Not that it matters. I’d be surprised if there is one this year.”

  “That’s awful,” I say, suddenly missing Chelsea and our Homecoming plans a ton.

  As we continue down the hall, Yassi gives me a tour of the old house converted into a communal living space. The library and kitchenette are small and have an enchanted quality with cubbies and nooks and lots of low lighting. I smell chocolate and butter and sugar. Lace curtains cover small tables and framed needlepoint decorates the walls.

  Yassi stops abruptly, gazing at the window. She holds out her hand and then shakes her head. “Magical enchantments to keep us in.” Her eyes widen. “I’m afraid this is just the beginning. No way they’d have gotten us all back here if they made the changes right away. There would’ve been protests. No, they’ll make the changes slowly, sinisterly. Soon we’ll be no better off than if we were locked in the Iron Tower.”

  “I was going to say that I almost feel like I’m in a dollhouse or a fabled grandmother’s cottage—” I start.

  “Jail is more like it,” Yassi says, pushing open the door to the common room.

  “About that, I was brought there first. A djinn disguised as a worker from the Office of Magical Management came to my house—” I hesitate, not sure how to explain or who to trust.

  Whatever she’s about to say is swallowed up by about twenty girls gathered and chattering.

  Little balls of light hover along the ceiling like twinkle lights but without a cord. The girls fill the spaces on the couches draped with knit blankets and patchwork quilts. The room practically glows with welcoming smiles. It’s all very quaint and cozy. I instantly love everything about it but worry tugs on my mind and sours my stomach.

  Except for Honey. The words I hear from her mouth are bitter criticisms (her comment about smelling wet dog blatantly aimed at the two weregirls) and her expression is sour (directed at everyone except her closest accomplices: two girls who look terrified of her).

  There’s always one rotten apple in the bunch. I do my best to ignore her negativity when a radiant woman with shiny, curly hair enters through the two French doors.

  Everyone hushes.

  “Girls, I’m Miss Mayweather. Welcome home. Well—” Her brow wrinkles as though about to give her usual spiel to begin the year. “Things are different now, but we’re still a family here even though we have new rules and guidelines.” She reviews the new rules for dorm life and is met with groans.

  We break off into groups and Miss Mayweather brings us each cookies and milk (yes, for real). “Shh. Don’t tell the administration,” she says.

  Reese and Sadie, the two weregirls, talk to us in hushed tones.

  Sadie says, “If Storch found out about this, Mayweather would get fired and be replaced with a correctional officer.”

  “Like the regular jails in the human world?” Reese asks.

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “My lips are sealed,” I say.

  Yassi leads the way up to the third floor and down the hall. “Primary students have to walk the extra flight,” she says as though relieved her room is downstairs.

  We pass doors bedecked in banners and decorations, welcoming all the new residents. We stop in front of a door with my name on one side in sparkly gold letters and Bree on the other. I’m relieved it doesn’t say, Honey.

  “Primary year, you’re assigned to room with another new student. Next year, you can pick your roomie,” Yassi explains. “Though if what Sadie and Reese said was true, we might be in cells next year.”

  I don’t think I’ll get used to her reading my thoughts. I turn the doorknob, not knowing what to expect—I’ve had the same bedroom my entire life. Inside, all I find are two beds on opposite sides of the room, along with a pair of dressers, desks, and windows. Two of everything, split right down the middle. However, in the center of the room, only my luggage waits.

  “So what do you think?”

  I turn in a circle and shrug. “Simple, clean...”

  Yassi bites her lip, peers out the door, and pulls a wand from the deep pocket of her dress. She waves it a couple of times and the bare walls glitter.

  I blink.

  She’s transformed my side. Gauzy fabric drapes from the ceiling, creating a canopy. Little balls of light like in the common room appear, twinkling. Fluffed blankets make my bed look inviting after this long day, my bags are empty and stowed in the closet, and photos of my family rest atop the dresser.

  “How’s that for a magical makeover in less than a minute?” she asks.

  “I love it. Do you also do hair and makeup?” I ask. “Also fashion, I could certainly use some new clothes.”

  She laughs. “We’re not really supposed to do this kind of thing, especially now, but with so many sisters back home I’d sometimes get carried away. Now it’s kind of my specialty. You’ll be able to do your hair and makeup in no time. As for clothes, we have required uniforms.”

  At her words, a drawer on the dresser opens and a plaid skirt, knee socks, white button-down, and a sweater vest, with the school emblem on the chest, shake themselves out.

  “For real?” I ask, holding up the red plaid skirt.

  She shrugs. “You get used to it.”

  “No, I like it. A lot.”

  “Better than prison jumpsuits. Anyway, the good thing is the pockets are deep.” She slides her wand back in and adds, “You can wear casual dress on the weekends...well, as far as I know.”

  “Where do I get a wand?”

  Yassi takes hers out again and balances it on her delicate fingers to show me. “This one was custom made for yours truly, but for now you’ll get a school-issued wand. You need to know your magic first and then a joiner can customize one for
you. That is if they let us keep them.”

  “A joiner?” I ask.

  “A wandmaker. They join your magic with a piece of wood, metal, or stone. It has to be an element. The school wands are made of wood and only perform the basics.”

  I tilt my head with curiosity. “So what exactly does a wand do?”

  “A wand amplifies and directs your magic. Don’t worry; your teachers will cover all of this. Some people like Chancellor West can perform magic without a wand, but that’s a really advanced technique. Or rather, they’ll probably teach us how not to use it. ”

  “But what about things like reading people’s minds?”

  “That’s a different kind of magic. Interior. Whereas wand use is exterior.”

  I have a lot to learn. “Thank you for everything today.”

  “Of course. I want to say that I hope you like it here, but...” She cups her head in her hands. “Sorry to sound all doom and gloom, but I heard Miss Mayweather’s thoughts and—” She clamps her palm over her mouth. “Never mind, I shouldn’t say. Just that it’s going to get worse and there’s nothing we can do.” She moves toward the door.

  “Wait.” I feel torn between my old life and new. The fact that the academy is transitioning into a reform school. What I knew and what I don’t yet understand. So far, Yassi seems like the only one I can tell, if she doesn’t know already, given her skill.

  “Dina, the officer from OMM seemed nice then transformed into a djinn after we landed in front of what I know now is the Iron Tower. The guard said something about a bounty and prisoner,” I blurt. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  Yassi’s eyes go wide.

  “Now, I’m here and this is no longer Riptivik Academy but a reform school.” I shake my head. “I’m not a delinquent. I didn’t commit any crimes.”

  Yassi meets my gaze. “Apparently, our crime is our magic.” She frowns slightly and then brings her hand to her mouth. “It’s happening. I thought it was hearsay and conspiracy theories. I knew something fishy was going on. It happened at Amsterdam Island Academy too. They became a reform school—RIP Jr. Now us. After the Brightening, it can’t be another Shadow Army, but something bad is going on. This is the last stop before prison. If they were going to send us there, they’d have done it already. There’s something else. They must want to change us in some way and send us back out into the world. But what? Why?” She shakes her head. “It must be something awful.”

 

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