by Ilana Waters
“Right, Josh?” Miles repeated, more urgently. Please, he thought to me. Just let it go. Or Victor will get us all worse in the end. You’ll see.
Not if I get him first. My hand and knee pulsed with pain where Victor had magicked them. My heart pounded hard. I could feel blood strumming in my ears, my face hot with rage.
PLEASE JOSHUA, begged Pen. I willed my breathing to slow, my hands not to reach out and strangle Victor.
“Right,” I said through gritted teeth. “Broken. By accident. Just like Miles said.”
“Must’ve been one of the barriers Hedges put up.” Victor’s voice dripped with scorn. Half his face was scratched and covered in dirt, like the front of his uniform. “Bloody crap workmanship.” Hedges let out an indignant cry, but Victor kept his hateful gaze on me.
“Never mind whose fault it is.” Greggers got between Victor and me, looking back and forth between us. “We can fix it easily enough. That is, if you two boys are finished wasting everyone’s time?” Her tone was a command, not a question.
I realized the remains of the barrier spell were just filmy and opaque enough to prevent good visibility. Greggers and the prefects hadn’t seen Victor and me fighting behind it. Of course, none of them were idiots. They’d surely surmised what had really happened. It looked like my opportunity to pound Victor into an early grave would have to wait.
“Yes, ma’am.” Victor ran his hands over his face and hair, then brushed off his uniform. But his eyes were still locked on me.
“Lovely,” Greggers said. “Perhaps we can actually have some trying out during tryouts. That is, if it’s all right with you, Mr. Alderman. Mr. Alderman?”
“What?” I said. “Yeah, fine. Whatever you say, Mrs. Greggers.”
“Wonderful. Oh, there’s Parveen. Her class must’ve ended. Hedges, take Wright and a few others to be in her group. Cho and I’ll split up the rest of Victor’s lot. MacLeod, see what you can do about this busted barrier, will you?” Oliver nodded, looking between me and Victor as the latter followed Hedges. Mason and Dirk trailed behind Victor, but not before Mason pointed at his eyes, then at me.
The rest of the tryouts were a blur. I don’t remember much, except a lot of organized running and shouting and magic flying about. Miles and the rest finished up, red-faced and sweaty and exhausted. We hit the showers, and all throughout dinner, Miles kept saying, “I know I didn’t make it. I just know I didn’t make it.” But none of it really registered with me. Because all I could think of was getting another chance to teach Victor Wright a lesson.
Chapter 8
“Did I make it? Did I make it?” Miles breathed. It was hard to answer his question. He wasn’t the only one crowding around the long white scroll tacked to the bulletin board in the main hall.
“YES!” Miles threw his fist in the air. “Pen, I made it! Even with all those crazy laps Victor made us run. I’m on House of Water team this year!”
“Well, good on you,” Imogen grumbled. “I didn’t get picked.”
“But you scored higher than last year. Look.” Pen elbowed her way through the crowd and pointed to the number besides Imogen’s name. “You’ll be chosen next year. I’m sure of it.”
“Easy for you to say,” Imogen sighed as other students bumped them out of the way. “You made team again, just like always.”
“Me too!” Suyin squealed. “Except this is my first time.” She saw Imogen’s crestfallen face. “Sorry.”
Imogen managed a smile. “It’s all right.” She stretched her arms behind her head. “It just means that at the bonfire, I can sit back and relax, while the rest of you contemplate all those practices you’ll have to go to.” The rest of the group groaned.
It was late September—almost time for the Mabon bonfire. For my mortal readers, witches traditionally have eight holidays, or Sabbats. Mabon is the first of these to take place in the fall. It’s one of two times during the year where day and night are balanced in equal length. Bonfires are part of its traditional rituals. Apparently, the one held at Equinox was always seen as the de facto celebration for those picked for Tournament. The last huzzah, so to speak, before everyone had to hunker down and start going to practices.
As the tallest of the group, it wasn’t hard for me to see the list over everyone’s head.
To my dismay, Victor had made the team as well, along with Mason and Dirk. Then, I saw my own name among the others.
My reaction was mixed. On one hand, I would’ve hated to think my magic and skills were so weak I couldn’t make the team. On the other, I realized I was signed up for an activity I found completely pointless. Then again, I could always drop out. Then again, being at practices might give me another chance to see Colleen. Even though she was in House of Fire, she’d have to be at practices if she was team captain . . .
“Damn, Alderman! Look at your score.” Miles whistled.
“Gods alive.” Pen squinted at the number. “How’d you manage that?”
“Uh, it’s all in the wrists?” I scratched the back of my neck. “Besides, I don’t know if I’ll go through with it. Being on the team, that is.”
“What?” Miles’s mouth made a little O. “But you have to. Look who else is on the air team.” He stood on his tiptoes, then flew a few inches in the air, and mouthed the names to himself. “Yeah, beside you and Oliver, no one else there is worth a hex. Air’ll lose for sure if you don’t play.”
“Why on air’s side all of a sudden?” I asked slyly. It was almost time for lunch, and we began making our way toward the dining hall. “Shouldn’t you be praying to your water and fire gods, respectively, that we’ll fail?”
Pen laughed. “Nah. It’s all in good fun.”
“Victor doesn’t seem to think so,” Imogen said darkly.
“Victor takes it too far,” Pen said.
“Some students agree with him.” Suyin gazed into the distance. “Like Nadine. And Roger and Geoffrey. They think we should want to beat the magic out of everyone else.”
Miles shook his head. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”
“It died because no one would stand up to Victor,” Suyin said. “Well, almost no one.” She was busy giving me a knowing look when she almost walked into Zaira.
“Ooof! Oy!” Zaira stumbled forward, but managed to catch herself.
“Ack! Sorry.” Suyin winced. “Didn’t mean to step on your—oh! Your foot. How is it, by the way?” We all looked at each other. None of us had forgotten Victor’s cruelty toward Zaira—or anyone else—on tryout day.
“Oh, it was fine, once it had a chance to heal properly.” Zaira readjusted her rucksack. “I even made the team! But that actually makes me kind of nervous. I’m not looking forward to going up against Victor and his goons.” She shuddered. “I have enough problems with that lot off the field. Too bad all the cool lizards and toads and things can only be found on House of Fire’s grounds,” she muttered.
Lizards? Toads? Pen thought to me and Miles.
Baaa-rmy, Miles thought back.
I cocked my head. “Have you ever considered poisoning people?” I asked Zaira.
“Sorry?” Zaira frowned at me. What did you say? asked Miles and Pen.
“Poisoning people who are giving you trouble. You can do it with witches just like with mortals, though magic is usually required, since witches generally don’t respond to ordinary poisons. You could easily extract some from those creatures you’re so interested in.”
Zaira raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
I shrugged. “Sure. I could show you how. Abiga—my mom showed me a little about it.” Zaira gave me a wary look.
“Oh, it’s no big deal. You don’t have to be afraid of me. Here.” I dug around in my pocket till I found a small summoning stone. “Just give me a ring when you feel like having a lesson.” Zaira narrowed her eyes at the stone in her hand.
“I think he’s in earnest,” Pen added.
Zaira nodded and looked up me. “I’ll think
about it.” Then she went into the dining hall, where a table of her friends was waiting.
“Are you sure you should be giving that one ideas?” Imogen asked with a worried glance.
“What?” I said innocently. “I love standing up to tyranny. Even if it is through subterfuge.”
“Yeah, we’ll see how that goes,” Miles said. “After all, it’s been brill so far.”
***
The weather was noticeably cooler and a little damp at the bonfire that night. Still, fire magic and a mountain of logs were enough to keep a Mabon bonfire blazing in the middle of the practice field. Regular classes were canceled that afternoon and evening, and students whooped and cheered as Professor Martinez made the bonfire turn the traditional Mabon colors. We watched as it went from red and orange to brown and gold and back again. I’m pretty sure the professor threw in a few purples and blues just for fun. Fiddle music floated on the air, and everyone was stuffing their faces with toffee apples, shortbread, and cider.
“Due to your outstanding performance on the field,” Oliver was saying to me, “we had no choice but to offer you a position on the team.” He kept his voice low. “But if what I suspected that day is true—that you and Victor almost took each other’s heads off—you risk not only getting kicked off the team, but out of Equinox. Understood?”
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” I floated the remains of my toffee apple to a trash bin. Oliver gave a sharp nod and walked away. “But someone may want to explain that to Victor,” I added after he left.
“Explain what to Victor?” Miles asked with a mouthful of toffee apple.
“Nothing.” I sighed and sat down on the bleachers, watching shadows made by the bonfire.
“Don’t explain anything to him.” Pen sipped her cider and sat next to me. We were soon joined by Imogen and Suyin. “Don’t talk to him, don’t go near him. We’re just lucky he’s at the other end of the field, not making everyone miserable for once.”
“Saving it up, no doubt,” Imogen muttered, taking a bite of shortbread. “Maybe for the play-offs. Or Tournament.”
“When is Tournament, anyway?” I asked.
“First week in July,” Suyin said. “Right before the school year ends. Play-offs are in November, after Samhain break, and May after Beltane break.” She sipped her cider carefully from a paper cup. “I saw Victor practicing with Mason and Dirk on the field during their free period. They’re already trying to get a leg up on the rest of us.”
“Putting in extra practice isn’t illegal.” Miles tried to tear a shred of caramel apple away from the stick with his teeth. But he only succeeded in smearing more caramel onto his face; the sheen of it glistened in the firelight. “Besides, you know how hypercompetitive Victor is. Always has to be top dog. Of course he wants to win Tournament.”
“Probably thinks he shouldn’t even have to compete.” Imogen broke off another piece of bread. “That they should’ve just handed over the Chalice as soon as he walked into Equin.”
“Is there a reason Victor would want this particular chalice?” I asked. “What does it do, anyway?”
“I think it lends power to ordinary spells.” Pen took a long drink of cider. “But students aren’t allowed to use it for that purpose, even if they do win. Its award is purely symbolic.”
“Too bad,” I sighed. Why do people always run around trying to grab the new shiny? I thought to myself. It was nothing more than a MacGuffin, an object whose only worth is arbitrarily assigned. I once saw a troop of baboons at the zoo, trying to snatch an orange towel from each other’s hands. I couldn’t see what good the towel would do any of them, as their every need was met by zookeepers. Still, they chased one another around the trees in their enclosure for a good twenty minutes, fighting tooth and nail for the towel. This quest for the Sylvan Chalice reminded me of that—only with less-hairy baboons.
Status. Popularity. That was probably what an orange towel meant in the baboon world. But if that was what the Chalice was for Equinox, then Equinox could keep it. I already enjoyed the dubious status as the most badass boy here.
And look at all the good it’s doing me.
“So? What would you do? Josh? Josh? Alderman, wake up!” Miles tapped me with his now-empty apple stick, the caramel making it stick to my duster.
“What would I do with what?” I frowned at Miles, pulled the stick off my coat, and winged it into the trash bin.
“If you won the Chalice, and could use it for spells?” he urged.
Pen giggled. “Miles would probably use it to create a lifetime supply of breakfast sausages.”
“No way, love. I’d use it to build you the palace of your dreams.” He paused. “Then I’d fill it with a lifetime supply of sausage.” Imogen and Suyin snickered.
“I’d use it to teach that nasty Victor and his lot a lesson.” Imogen broke off another piece of shortbread and put it in her mouth. “Maybe make them eat their own entrails or something.”
“Tempting as it may be to force-feed Victor and associates anyone’s intestines,” Suyin said, “I’m sure the school, if not the Council, would have something to say about it. Unless one had a good reason, that is.”
Imogen snorted. “He’s a right nasty blighter. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“No, but if he tries to use the Chalice in ways he’s not allowed, it might be.” I stroked my chin. It was a tempting thought. If I could catch Victor in the act—any act—he might be out of Equinox for good. Or, at the very least, it would be completely acceptable for me to throw him a few punches.
What’s that? Oh, you’re wondering what the Council is. They’re the closest thing we Wiccan supernaturals have to a government. Thirteen stern and uncompromising witches tasked with making sure no magical laws are broken. Which mostly involves seeing that no one does anything that puts witches in danger. Like murder each other.
“Eh, fat chance of Victor actually using the Chalice.” Miles licked caramel off his fingers, then tried to wipe it off his face. “He already has everything. Looks, grades, money. What would he need the Chalice for? Oh, and speaking of grades, Josh, could you could lend me your textbook for Stone’s class? I sort of lost mine.”
Pen drank the last of her cider, then crumpled up her cup and lobbed it softly at Miles. “So use a locator spell on it, you lazy git.”
“Sorry, Miles,” I said. He picked up the cup and faked a throw at Pen, laughing when she ducked. Then he held it in the air with his mind, rolling it over and over. “Besides, I got transferred out of Stone’s class. I didn’t tell you?”
“What?” The crumpled cup dropped to the ground. “No, you did not tell us. How’d you manage that, you lucky sod?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know. But shortly after that assembly—you remember, the one where we were all complaining about her?”
“How could we forget?” Imogen nudged Suyin. “That’s when you kissed Roger.”
I shuddered. “Don’t remind me. Anyway, one of the secretaries called me in and gave me a new schedule. Said there’d been a change in the computer system, and that was my free period now. I’m taking Professor Stone’s class with Professor Minn instead. Actually, with my free period this afternoon—right before those other canceled classes—I have most of the day off.”
“Lucky sod,” Miles repeated, kicking the cup away from him. Suddenly, there was a commotion at the other end of the field. One girl came running out of the school and said something to the first students she saw. The conversation moved in a ripple across the bleachers, with students covering their mouths and turning toward each other in shock. Professor Martinez subdued her spell on the Mabon fire. Now, it only burned a mundane orange and red as she strode toward the bleachers.
“What in Fate’s sake is going on here?” she demanded. People were starting to stand up, asking questions.
“It’s Cerridwen, ma’am,” a Year Nine replied. “She’s been . . . struck.”
“Struck?”
“Oh, my gods,” Martinez gasped.
“Cerridwen?” I racked my brain, but couldn’t remember hearing about a student here by that name. Of course, I could hardly be expected to know them all. “Wait.” I turned to Miles. “Isn’t that the statue on the front lawn?”
Miles nodded. “Sure is. Was. And not a family donation, either. Cerr’s been at Equin since its inception.”
“Who would do such a thing?” one girl asked.
“Headmaster’s gonna have kittens,” another said.
“Specs is furious.” A boy next to me shook his head. “Said ’er features are unrecognizable.”
“Bloody hell.” Miles stared openmouthed as Professor Martinez raised her hands to address the crowd. A volume spell helped her voice carry across the field.
“Mabon bonfire is officially canceled,” she boomed. Instantly, the blaze in the center of the field went out. There was a collective groan. Martinez clapped her hands once above her head. A plume of fire and smoke shot up from them, and everyone was immediately quiet.
“Professor Stone and I will go inside to assess the situation. The rest of you will remain here with Professors Yen and Burgess until we determine it’s safe to go back inside.” She and Professor Stone grabbed the edges of their robes and hurried away.
“Safe?” one girl echoed fearfully. “Why wouldn’t it be safe?”
A boy a few feet away swallowed hard. “Maybe actual people gonna get their faces crushed next.”
“All right, everyone, just sit down.” Professor Yen herded students who were spilling out of the bleachers. “I said sit down and remain calm. There’s nothing to be done until we sort this out.” Most of the students reluctantly obeyed, but some, like me, continued to stand. The bleachers were abuzz with nervous energy, everyone speculating about who might have destroyed Cerridwen, and why.
“I just can’t believe someone would bash ’er in like that.” Mason had suddenly appeared with Victor and Dirk a few yards off, looking in my direction, and talking loudly.