by Ilana Waters
Potions was taught by the water housemaster, Professor Burgess. He was a small man with broad features that looked a bit like a bullfrog’s. Like Headmaster Specs’s announcements, the first portion of Professor Burgess’s class included a long list of don’ts.
“It is forbidden to poison anyone—chemically or magically—with any of the potions you will learn here,” he toned, walking up and down the rows of desks. “It is forbidden to use any potion to force or otherwise coerce anyone into doing anything outside their customary behaviors, such as engage in illegal activity, fall in love, generally act foolish . . .”
I yawned. I hadn’t counted on how boring Equinox would be. In between the usual arrogant pricks trying to kill me, of course. As Professor Burgess went on and on, I glanced at the syllabus and realized my mother had already taught me most of it. I took the opportunity to crack open one of the potion textbooks and hide an Equinox brochure inside.
Where is it? I know I saw it—ah! There it is. “The Equinox Tournament has been a time-honored tradition for countless centuries,” I read silently. “Much like mortal sporting games, it is composed of a series of play-offs between the four houses. However, this is where the similarity with mortal athletics ends, because students are allowed to use any non-injurious, nonlethal magic at their disposal. With smaller play-offs between the houses throughout the year, the final game culminates in a thrilling quest between the two remaining houses. Their objective is to find the treasured Sylvan Chalice. The Sylvan Chalice is a faerie object of such great beauty and power that, in the past, magical wars were fought over it. Standing at eight inches tall, the Chalice is made of pure silver, etched with a winding leaf and vine motif. Former Chalice masters and Equinox Tournament champions include the veritable . . .”
I closed my eyes. I always found sports to be dull. Catch the ball, cross the line, win the point. All well and good. But a glorified cup? Hardly a matter of life and death. As far as I could tell, it was Equinox’s version of bread and circuses in ancient Rome. Or just circuses, in this case. Entertainment for the masses to keep them occupied. “Suppose I’m one of the masses now,” I sighed.
“I see we have time for recreational reading during class.” Before I knew what was happening, Professor Burgess swooped by and telekinetically plucked the brochure out of my potions book. It flew straight up into his hand. I jumped in surprise, and the book snapped shut. Dammit. For a bullfrog, he certainly moves fast. My father would have flogged my ass for letting an enemy get the drop on me like that. There were titters and giggles from the rest of the class. “So good to see young people making the most of their spare time.” Burgess frowned at me.
“Sorry, sir,” I said unconvincingly, and slumped down in my seat.
“You are also not allowed to wear sunglasses indoors,” he said. Again, a few snickers, and murmurings of “vampire.” I glanced up at Professor Burgess and pushed the glasses further up on my nose. You could practically see steam rising from his ears.
“Perhaps we think we’re too clever to need lessons at all, Mr. Alderman?” He motioned around him with the stolen brochure. “Perhaps, where we come from, we’re so special, there’s nothing Equinox can teach us.” There was a loud snort from the back of the room that I suspected was Victor’s.
“I am what’s colloquially known as ‘gifted,’ ” I muttered.
“Yes, well,” Burgess coughed, “that’s the norm rather than the exception among witches. I’m afraid you’ll find it doesn’t make you unique or unusual in this environment.”
I glanced up at him again. “Really? An environment where I’m not considered unusual?” I looked back down. “This ought to be a treat.” But Burgess was right in what he said about witches’ intelligence. It can’t even be measured by mortal instruments, like IQ tests. This explained why most mundane classes at Equinox were already university-level or beyond, even for the youngest students.
But the truth was, I was used to studying what I wanted, when I wanted. Living with a bohemian mother, my education could be called eclectic at best and haphazard at worst. I was also rarely enrolled at a single school for long.
It looked like that would soon be the case here. Professor Burgess got red in the face. “Young man, you may have been raised by a hippie, but we’ll have none of that namby-pamby nonsense at Equinox.” The class tittered, and my jaw tensed.
The other half that raised me trained me to tear your throat out by now.
Burgess rolled up the brochure and pointed it at me. As if I were a bad dog he was about to hit on the nose. “Rumor has it you’re a troublemaker, Alderman.”
“Yes, there are a lot of those flying around,” I said, thinking of my fight with Victor yesterday. “Rumors and troublemakers, I mean.”
“That’s enough lip, Alderman,” Burgess snapped. He held the rolled-up brochure inches from my face. “I’m serious. I have my eye on you. One wrong move, and you’ll be out of here faster than a fae can change clothes.”
Victor, Oliver, and now Prof Burgess. Is there anyone here who doesn’t have an eye on me?
“Why don’t I just save you the trouble and—” Before I could finish, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” barked Burgess, still glowering at me.
It was Oliver. “Beg your pardon, Professor,” he said. “But I’m here for Joshua Alderman.” He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Headmaster Specs wants to see you. You are to report to his office immediately.”
Oh, crap.
“Happy to comply,” Burgess said to Oliver, an enormous grin spreading across his lips. “In fact, Mr. Alderman was just leaving.”
Chapter 4
After trying—and failing—not to look at Victor’s smug face as I left class, I had no choice but to follow Oliver to Specs’s office.
“Any idea what the headmaster wants?” I asked as we walked the silent halls.
“You can ask him when you get there,” Oliver replied.
Dear old Oliver. Forthcoming as ever.
But when we arrived at Specs’s office, we could hear him and two unfamiliar voices—a man’s and a woman’s. They seemed to be involved in a heated discussion.
“Wait here.” Oliver motioned to a wooden bench next to the office door.
“You really trust me here, all by my lonesome?” I asked. “Besides, Headmaster Specs appears to be busy. Why would he summon me here if he was indisposed?”
“I’m sure he thought he’d be free by now.” Oliver turned to leave. “Try not to break anything,” he said as he walked away.
I sighed and sat down, tossing my bag on the bench and narrowing my eyes at its armrest. Curlicues and swirls began scratching themselves into the wood. What? You don’t think I’d be foolish enough to carve my name there, do you? As I waited, I listened to the conversation inside.
“I told you, my son doesn’t belong with that fool Professor Lively. Hugh is far too advanced.”
“Mr. Henderson.” Specs’s voice had the same droning quality as before, but now it seemed even wearier. “All students are placed in the classes for which they qualify, based on—”
“I don’t care what your basis is for sabotaging my son. Now listen here, you stupid elf—”
Specs sniffed sharply, and the room got very quiet. I didn’t know if he did anything else to silence Mr. Henderson, but I had a feeling he didn’t need to.
“The start of a new school year is time of great tension and upheaval for everyone,” Specs said quietly. “Which is why I am inclined to disregard uncharacteristic flares of temper . . . just this once.”
“Thank you, thank you so much,” an anxious-sounding woman babbled. I presumed she was Mrs. Henderson. “Of course you put Hughie in the proper class. Everyone knows that. Right, Angus? I said, right, Angus?”
“Yes, of course, that’s right,” he coughed. “We won’t take up any more of your time, Headmaster Specs. Good day to you.”
“Good day,�
� replied Specs.
Both Hendersons looked ashen as they left the office, so engrossed in their conversation they failed to notice me. Mrs. Henderson gave her husband a whack with her hat.
“What were you thinking,” she hissed, “being so disrespectful to a fae? And the headmaster, no less!” She put the hat back on, fiddling nervously with the pins.
Mr. Henderson let up a humph. “I could take him,” he muttered.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Mrs. Henderson. “He could have driven us mad with a snap of his fingers, or made us dance till we died. Who knows what else the world’s most powerful magic could do?” She was still going on as they walked down the hall and out of sight.
I doubted the entire fae race could mete out such punishments at a moment’s notice. Still, I sided with the wife. There was no sense in taking chances by pissing off Gilliam Specs. Which apparently, I’ve already done, since he summoned me here. I rubbed my throat. Had the headmaster suddenly appeared before the Hendersons as his real self? Was that why they changed their tone so quickly?
Which version will I get when I go in there? The true fae form, or the glamoured one?
“Mr. Alderman?” said a voice right above my ear. My head jerked around, but the voice’s owner had already gone back inside. “Do come in.”I did, and was relieved to see the headmaster looking the same as he had earlier that morning.
Opposite me was an enormous Palladian window flanked by red velvet curtains with gold tassels. Below the window sat a rosebush in full bloom. Abigail would’ve loved that, I thought. She always had a soft spot for roses. But unlike ordinary rosebushes, this one’s blooms were in all different colors.
There was a dark wooden desk in front of the window, and a wooden chair on casters. It was turned opposite the desk, as if its occupant had been gazing at the moors and forests outside. Next to the desk stood a three-foot-high globe. Paintings hung on the walls, or leaned against rows of bookshelves on either side of the room. Across from the desk was a pair of matching chairs. Specs motioned for me to sit in one of them. I did, and he returned to his own chair, sipping tea from a sky-blue teacup.
“Although I approve of whittling as a pastime in general, I do wish students wouldn’t practice it on the furniture,” he said. “Makes quite the unbearable racket, you know.”
My jaw went slack. He heard me carving into the bench from in here? His pointed ears might have been hidden by glamour, but Specs’s keen elfin hearing was completely intact.
“I . . . ah . . . that is . . .”
“And so, Mr. Alderman.” He set the empty teacup down in its saucer. “At last, we meet.”
“We do? I mean, yes, we do. Pleasure to see you, sir.”
“I’ve heard quite a lot about you,” Specs said. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look displeased either.
“Likewise,” I replied. Wait. What, exactly, has he heard about me?
“I trust you’re settling in well?”
“Oh, yes, quite well, thank you,” I lied.
“Finding your classes all right, your uniform? Although I do recall a school bylaw that prohibits the use of anything other than corrective lenses indoors at Equinox.” He narrowed his eyes at my sunglasses. “How unfortunate you are one of the few supernaturals who seem to need them.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say something about his own glasses, but prudence got the better of me. I grumbled and stuck the sunglasses in my coat pocket.
“Don’t you find these inane rules about clothing rather cumbersome to enforce?” I muttered.
“I find clothing to be cumbersome in general,” Specs said, “but still manage to uphold the values of civility and decorum in dress. As will you. Otherwise, we risk an outright revolt which threatens to unravel the very fabric of the tenuous balance at this school. No pun intended. Do we understand each other?”
I find most clothing to be cumbersome in general . . . I’d forgotten that fae preferred wearing nothing at all.
“Very well,” I replied. I suppose if Specs can resist running around naked, I can follow the dress code. I likely won’t be at Equinox long, anyway. I smiled a little to think of how Abigail would insist I stage a sit-in. Then, my smile faded. My mother wasn’t here to voice her opinion, one way or the other.
“Excellent.” Specs shuffled some papers on his desk. “Now that your wardrobe has been taken care of, we can move on to the discussion of your . . . seating arrangements.” He folded his hands in front of him. “Because there is the small matter of one stone bench, dedicated to Equinox by the Srinivasan family. They were none too happy to hear about its premature demise.”
Damn Oliver, that little prat. He must have decided to rat on Victor and me after all.
“That wasn’t my fault,” I said quickly. “I mean, it was, but I had to. Victor was trying to—”
“The bench has since been repaired by Professor Stone,” Specs continued, looking away. Stone . . . the earth housemaster, I remembered. “You can hardly tell anything happened to it.” He looked back again, this time holding my gaze. “And so I informed the Srinivasan family, when I was on the phone with them for many hours, discussing it last night. However, I’m sure I won’t have reason to ring them again, or any of our benefactors with news of their donations being dismantled. Now, I have no idea who was responsible for this incident, but I’m taking it upon myself to inform as many individual students as possible. Hopefully, they will spread the word, and we won’t have any more of these mishaps. Do I make myself clear?” Magically, tea swirled up from the bottom of the cup, filling it again, and Specs took another sip.
I was wrong. Oliver isn’t a rat. But Specs still knows it was me. Somehow, he knows. Could someone else have told him? The news did spread like wildfire all over the school. I decided it didn’t matter how he found out. Specs not only had extraordinary hearing, but apparently, he also had eyes in the back of his head. From now on, I’d have to assume that anything I did would find its way to him.
“I said, do I make myself clear?” Specs stopped drinking his tea. It was obvious he wasn’t talking about the bench. He knew Victor and I had tried to kill each other.
“Crystal, sir,” I replied. Though I don’t understand why Victor isn’t in here as well. Is Specs on the Wright family’s side because they make donations like the Srinivasans?
“Excellent.” Specs’s cup made a final clattering sound as he placed it in the saucer. “Then I believe our introductions are at end. Have a pleasant day, Mr. Alderman.”
“Ah, you too, sir.” I got up and considered shaking Specs’s hand, but he didn’t seem terribly eager. I left his office muttering to myself.
I mean, really, what does Specs expect? “X nihilo nihil fit,” I grumbled. It was a Latin phrase frequently used by my father. It means, “Nothing comes from nothing.” If no one challenged Victor, he’d continue to torment students whenever he felt like it. Still, I hadn’t come to Equinox to launch a one-mage campaign against an egotistical fire witch. Between him, a powerful air prefect, and a watchful fae, I should probably just focus on trying to make it through the school year.
***
Luckily, by the time Specs finished with me, potions was over. I took out my schedule. I was just figuring out which class I had next, when I heard someone whispering to me.
“Pssst! Oy, Josh. Pssst!”
I looked to the left and right, only to find Miles hiding none too well behind a large Doric column.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped my fingers, and the schedule folded up and flew back into my bag.
“Lila from potions told Diedrich from candles that you got kicked out of Professor Burgess’s class and sent to Specs’s office. I’m still in double-period candles. Told Professor Martinez I had to use the loo so I could sneak out and see you. So?” He gestured impatiently. “What happened? Why’d you get kicked out of class? Did Specs expel you?”
“Nothing. I didn’t; not exactly, anywa
y. And no, I’m not expelled. Yet. Look.” I started walking down the hall. “Apparently, I’m supposed to be in gem magic now. I’d rather not rankle two professors in one day, plus the headmaster.”
“I’ll walk with you.” Miles quickly caught up to me. “But you’re right about keeping on Specs’s good side. Fighting Victor is one thing, but you don’t want to get in trouble with a fae.”
It was true. Never had I seen such severe eyes staring at me from over the rim of a teacup. I went over the conversation Specs and I had with Miles.
“Blimey,” said Miles. “So you get the third degree, while Victor just does as he likes. Hard luck, mate.”
“Tell me about it,” I grumbled. We passed through the main hall, where Victorian paintings hung in enormous gilded frames on opposite walls. “Were these done by the students?” I nodded at the paintings, which showed artistic promise, but lacked the skillfulness of a master.
Miles shook his head. “Nah. Not unless they enrolled ages ago. But that last one on the left is rumored to have a secret passage behind it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Miles, old chap, you’ll believe anything. But you know, I wouldn’t be surprised. This place is a little odd, even for a repurposed boarding school.”
“Yeah, I know.” We passed out of the main hall into a smaller one leading to the largest enclosed courtyard in the school, which everyone called the quad. “I asked Specs about Equinox once—what it was used for, who owned it, and so on. He said it was a royal castle.”
“I’d kill to be in a royal castle right now,” I sighed. “Anywhere but here, really. I wonder what kind of royalty it held. A British monarch? Or did Specs mean fae or Wiccan royalty?”