by Ilana Waters
I thought he was a sport fencing champion. How did he get so good at actual combat?
“Oy, that’s enough.” Greggers was craning her neck to look up at us. “I said one more bout only! No sabres. And on the ground. Do you hear me? On the ground!”
But McKay and I were past hearing—or at least, past listening. The students were shouting and cheering, but we ignored them and Greggers, our sabres still clashing in midair. We flew and spun and tangled, even hitting the ceiling at one point. The scoring numbers fizzled as they tried to change quickly enough. The hourglass kept stopping and starting, shaking back and forth.
Fencing with sabres is even more injurious than with épées. The force from a sabre hit feels less like a poke and more like a punch. There’s a lot of pushing and shoving. It’s basically the Neanderthal version of fencing. And McKay had struck so many blows, it felt like my whole body was made of pain. But I fought on.
McKay called another sabre into his hand—I won’t even bother explaining how illegal that is—and started slashing at me. But I knocked one out of his grip, causing Greggers to duck and the crowd to shriek as it almost came down on their heads.
McKay and I kept hitting each other hard and fast. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw smoke rising from the hourglass near Greggers. The scoring numbers above the strip wrinkled in the air until they scattered into a thousand starlike pieces. Then, the hourglass made a popping sound and exploded, sending fragments shooting across the room. And even though it was only a glamoured hourglass, the line of students still cried out and ducked. Miles covered Pen with his body. Greggers kept screaming, “Halt, halt, halt.”
We made one final lunge toward one another. But both swords veered left at the last minute, and our bodies smashed together and into the wall. As we slid down, I was the one with my body facing in. McKay kept trying to push me off, but I wasn’t about to let him get into an attacking position again.
I pressed my body against his, and we both stood there, breathless and perspiring. I reached under his mask and ripped it away. The first thing I saw was long, blond hair that came tumbling out like a wave of spun gold.
Did I just say “wave of spun gold?” Well, I’m sorry, dear readers, but that was what it was like. I looked at my opponent, stupefied. Into the heart-shaped face. The round, violet eyes.
“Colleen?”
Chapter 11
“Of all the daft, dangerous, idiotic things to do, this utterly takes the cake. I swear, if you two weren’t witches, I’d think you’d been dropped on the heads as children.”
Technically, one of us is a mage, I thought to myself. But it didn’t seem like the right time to contradict the red-faced Greggers. In fact, as my fellow inmate, Colleen, and I sat in her office, I had the feeling that feigning an ashamed silence was the best policy.
I still can’t believe it was Colleen all along. My brief conversation with Miles and the others before being dragged into Greggers’s office didn’t help clear up matters.
“But we thought you knew!” Miles said.
“Yeah.” Pen glanced at Greggers, who was hollering at Edwards and Singh to get the janitor to sweep up the chunks of dislodged wall and ceiling. “I mean, everyone kept calling her ‘McKay.’ Just how many McKays do you think there are at this school?”
“Technically, there are four.” Imogen pointed at Colleen. She waved cheerfully from the other side of the room as if nothing had happened. The rest of the students were chattering excitedly all around us.
“I didn’t know her last name!” I threw my hands in the air. Greggers looked at Colleen waving, then at me—most murderously. She’d forced us to separate as soon as the match ended and I took off Colleen’s mask. But it was only a matter of time till she hauled us in for some spectacular punishing.
Suyin gave me a sideways look. “It was announced on the first day, when Specs introduced this year’s prefects.”
“That’s not fair,” I protested. “All I heard was ‘Colleen something’ before you and everyone else started screaming like mad.”
“Colleen always does get the loudest cheers,” agreed Imogen.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Miles grinned at me. “That’s hilarious. What a way to finally meet her, eh?”
What a way indeed. As I watched Greggers pace back and forth behind her desk, yelling and threatening, my eyes met Colleen’s. She shrugged, as if the reprimand bored her more than anything else.
“You’re on thin ice with Headmaster Specs as it is.” She pointed to me. “And you!” She pointed to Colleen. “What will your father say when he finds out you got into another unauthorized fencing match?”
Another? I thought to Colleen. You mean you’ve done this before?
Oh, one or twice. But don’t worry. Colleen winked quickly enough for me to see, but not Greggers. I confess my heart jumped a little. That boy regained full use of his right arm again. Or so I’m told.
Greggers stood facing a bulletin board, hands clasped behind her back. “I’ve half a mind to bar you from fencing for the rest of the year,” she said.
That got Colleen’s attention. Her eyes bulged, and she sat up straight in her chair. Then, she took a deep breath and smiled.
“Oh, Mrs. Greggers, you don’t really want to do that, do you? And the headmaster’s already got so much on his plate, what with that horrid Cerridwen mischief. You don’t want to put him out, do you? And my father, well, you know how busy he is. So many dead people and all.” Her voice darkened on the word “dead,” as if her necromancer daddy might decide to make Greggers his next client. Greggers turned around and frowned.
“And speaking of fathers,” Colleen glanced at me, “you know how you have to be so careful talking to some people. Vampires,” she mouthed to Greggers. “They’re not like you and me. Give them bad news and, well, one has to wonder about the fate of the messenger.” I saw Greggers swallow hard. “And when you think about it, all we really did was engage in some veeery rigorous bouts.” On the word “very,” she looked at me and stuck out her plump, pink lower lip, just a touch. “And isn’t that why we’re enrolled at Equinox? To be the very best?”
Easy for her to say. After fighting Colleen, I was aching in places I didn’t know I could ache. Colleen, with her witch’s powers, was probably 90 percent healed already.
Greggers folded her arms across her chest. “Young lady, someone could have been hurt. At the very least, you’re both going to be in detention until the earth stops rotating around the sun. And if you think for one minute that I’m going to—”
“I’ll tell you what,” Colleen interrupted. She crossed her long legs and leaned forward, displaying a set of perfectly manicured nails. Her tone was friendly, conspiratorial. “Joshie here and I—”
“Joshie?” I echoed.
“Joshie here and I will clean and maintain all the fencing equipment for the rest of the term. This will take an enormous weight off your shoulders.” Colleen made it sound like she and I were the answers to all of Greggers’s prayers. “Think of all the time you’ll have left for Tournament activities. Don’t think I don’t know it was your House of Earth that clinched the championship the year you graduated. I heard your winning spell was simply stunning!” I could’ve sworn Greggers blushed.
“So, it’s all settled, then.” Colleen sat back in her chair with a relaxed sigh. “We’ll get to work right away and say no more about it. Can’t go off troubling our hardworking parents and headmasters with such trifling things, now, can we?” Colleen sounded so assured, I found myself wondering why we were discussing such a petty matter at all.
Greggers seemed to agree. Colleen hadn’t exactly worked a spell, but the effect was the same. Greggers’s face softened, and I could see defeat in her eyes.
I’ll be damned. This girl could sell pixie dust to a fae.
“Well,” Greggers started, “if you think you two can get along long enough to—”
“We’ll be the very b
est of friends, I assure you.” Colleen put her hand on my knee—just for a second—and gave it a squeeze. “After all, our sparring was all in good fun. Right, Josh?”
Greggers looked from me to Colleen and back again. I managed a worried smile and awkward head bobble.
“You will clean that gymnasium till it’s spotless,” Greggers said quietly. “You will repair any damaged swords. You will reinforce any spells that may have weakened or come loose when—”
“Yes, yes, Mrs. Greggers.” Colleen’s tone was akin to that of a weary parent addressing their toddler. “In fact, we’ll start right now.” She stood up, and I did the same. “I’m supposed to be in potions class, but I’m sure Professor Burgess will let me out.”
“I’ll write you a note.” Greggers picked up a pen, and began riffling through her desk for some paper.
“Oh, no need.” Colleen waved the offer away, already at the door. “Dear Burgess and I go way back.” Colleen winked at me again. Horrid man, isn’t he? she thought.
Greggers jutted her chin at me. “Well, you’ll need a note, at least.”
“Actually, it’s my free period,” I said. Which I hadn’t planned to use doing sword chores, I thought to Colleen, so thanks for that.
You’re welcome, for saving your skinny little arse, she thought back pleasantly.
Skinny? Yeah, well . . . your eyes are so big and round, they should star in their own Disney movie. I winced. Nice comeback, Joshie, I thought to myself.
It turned out Colleen was right about Professor Burgess—she had no trouble begging off class. In fact, she made it sound like she and I were selflessly helping out Greggers, instead of submitting to a punishment. And even though Burgess despised me, by the time we left his classroom, I thought he was about to award both of us medals.
“That’s some glamour you’ve got going on there,” I said to Colleen as we headed back toward the gym. “First Greggers, then Burgess.”
“Oh, they’re not spells,” Colleen said lightly. I couldn’t stop staring at her face, at the shape of it, so much like the subject of a Rossetti painting. “You just have to know how to talk to people.” She tilted her head. “You catch more flies with honey, et cetera.”
We’d changed out of our fencing uniforms and back into our ordinary school ones. At least, as ordinary as they could be. I’d resumed wearing my duster, while Colleen had several shirt buttons undone, as usual. She’d also wrapped her hair up in a braid like when I’d seen her the first time. Now, she was taking violets and rosebuds out of her pockets and pressing them into it. Then there was the makeup she’d somehow managed to throw on before Burgess yanked us into her office. Between that, the hair, and the perfume she’d spritzed herself with, Colleen looked—and smelled—fresh as a daisy.
Meanwhile, my pale face probably still bore the ugly patches of red it always did when I overexerted myself. I quickly ran my hands through my hair, but that only confirmed it was a mess. And I was sure my scent was less fresh daisy, and more week-old laundry.
“Though sometimes, the attention does get to be too much, don’t you think?” she sighed. We passed the Victorian paintings in the main hall. For a moment, I wished I knew if the last one on the left really did open up to a secret passage, the way Miles said. Wouldn’t Colleen be impressed if I could show it to her?
“Oh yes,” I agreed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Basking in all that popularity and admiration. How do you do it?”
“It is such a burden when everyone wants to claim you as their own.” Colleen put the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. “Especially the menfolk. I mean, boys are all so delicious. I doubt I could choose just one. Do you think you could ever spend the rest of your life with one person?”
Why is she asking me this? “Well, ah . . . between you and me, I’m not sure I can spend my life in my own company.”
“I suppose if I had to be monogamous,” Colleen mused, “I’d want a love that hits you like a tank.”
I raised my eyebrows. “The kind that runs you over and squashes you flat?”
“All right, so it’s not a perfect metaphor,” she admitted.
I’m not usually at a loss for words, but it was hard to know what to say to Colleen. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. It didn’t help that my heart kept doing little flips. For weeks, I’d wondered how to introduce myself, to get close. Now, here I was, alone with her.
And it was thrilling just to be near Colleen, despite the fact that she’d just kicked my ass. Or maybe because she’d just kicked my ass. I tried to casually hook my thumb on my belt buckle, only to have it slip off. Smooth, Josh. Real smooth.
But there was still the matter of . . .
“You know, I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that you’ve gotten me in a heap of trouble. Frankly, at this point, trouble is the last thing I need at Equinox.”
“So I hear.” Colleen looked at me sideways and smirked.
“Also extra bruises.” I winced and rubbed my chest in one of the many places she struck me.
Colleen heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, I didn’t hurt you that badly. I knew you could handle it. I just wanted some excitement.” Her eyes twinkled, and her lips puckered into a smile.
“Well,” I said, “the only reason I didn’t die was because I was well trained by a homicidal maniac. How did you get to be such an expert?”
Colleen stopped to smooth her already-perfect hair in a wall mirror. “Darling, when you go about looking and living the way I do, you’re bound to run into trouble.” Her voice deepened. “Best to be prepared.” I couldn’t argue with that logic.
“What?” When I didn’t respond, Colleen stopped fixing her hair and turned to me. “You’re not mad, are you?”
Mad. Amazed. Bewildered. They were all swirling around, fighting for control in my mind.
“Well, most mages would be.” I continued walking, and Colleen quickly caught up. “This one is willing to let it go. But are you sure this penance of ours was a good idea? You might not want everyone to know you’re hanging out with a half-breed.”
“Right.” Colleen rolled her eyes. “Because I live and die by what others think of me.” We’d reached the gym. She opened one of the large double doors, and we walked inside. “Besides, I’ve been curious about you for a while now.”
“Oh?” I tried to sound casual, but the word came out at a higher pitch than I intended.
“Of course, a few people tried to warn me away.” She flung stray lamés and masks back onto their hooks with her mind, never taking her eyes off me.
“Very prudent of them.” I waved one mask into place with my hand when it caught on the wrong hook. I looked around. “What’s next? I guess we should fix any swords that got damaged, right?” Colleen nodded, and we started with the foils. “So, you really prefer doing this to being in potions?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t mind at all.” Colleen floated a foil in front of her. She narrowed her eyes at it, using magic to sense any cracks, dents, or chips. “I love spending time with the weapons. In fact, I’m always the first to get them out in the morning and the last to lock them up at night. Been doing that for a while, actually. A sort of payment Greggers remits to me for helping teach the younger students. Damn earth magic.” She furrowed her brow at the sword, which glowed and wobbled, but refused to heal. “So damn stubborn.”
“You can’t rush it.” I put my hand over hers, melding her magic with mine. Our eyes met. We both looked quickly back at the sword. “Earth magic requires patience.” Metal, metal, burning bright, put your shining self to right. Colleen’s shoulders shook with silent laughter at my rhyming spell, but it did the trick. The foil stopped wobbling, now only glowing in tiny dots where the breaks were. We felt the metal surge and bind, the glow fading when it was complete. I removed my hand from Colleen’s, and she called the sword into her hand, admiring it as she did a few moves.
“Not bad.” Colleen weighed the foil up and dow
n before doing a lunge and thrust. “Not bad at all. I must confess, patience is one thing I’m lacking.”
“But fencing practice takes patience.” I started working on the next foil. “So you must have some.”
“Eh, all that comes so easily to me. I hardly need patience at all.” Colleen did a few forward and backward cross overs. “No, fencing is about control. Precision.” She looked me up and down appreciatively. “Choosing your targets carefully.” She whacked at a practice dummy. “You have to think of the sword like an extension of your arm. And, of course, always keep your opponent off balance.” In an instant, she turned and swiped at me. Her sword missed me by inches as I leaped into the air and stayed there.
“All while maintaining your own balance.” I folded my arms and looked down at her.
“Exactly!” She seemed almost gleeful she’d missed. “See? I knew you could do it. Come on—we’d better get cracking with the rest of these weapons.”
We worked for a few more minutes in silence, and I almost regretted showing Colleen how to do repairs more quickly. It meant I’d sacrificed the opportunity to touch her hand again.
“You know, you’re lucky to have me around,” Colleen said as we fixed the last of the sabres.
Yes, I am, I thought to myself. “Excuse me?” I said out loud.
“I mean, it’s unlikely Greggers would trust you with the weapons by yourself, knowing your reputation.” Colleen made a sabre fly back up to its place on the wall with a clang.
“I wouldn’t need to be around them at all if you hadn’t gotten us in trouble, then chosen our penan—oh. My reputation.” So she did know. “I guess you heard about what happened.” I turned away and held up my hands to gauge the protection spells on the walls and ceiling. They felt a little weak—probably because Colleen and I had pummeled them. You’d be surprised how easily Wiccan gymnasiums can get damaged from sports equipment, spells, and even witches flying about. Hence the need for protection.