by Ilana Waters
“Would that be sorting out Victor twice, defacing Cerridwen, or something new?” Colleen stood next to me, hands up, eyes closed, assessing the magic as well. “I do love a good rumor.”
“I didn’t do it. The second thing, I mean.” Rather proud of the Victor thing, I thought to myself. I willed energy into the spell on the wall and felt it grow tighter, denser.
“I didn’t say you did.” Colleen added her fire magic to mine, and I could practically feel the spell’s heat. “Don’t think I believe everything I hear. As for Victor, ugh. I’m glad he got taken down a notch. If you think he’s insufferable in small doses, imagine living in the same house with him.”
“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.” Satisfied with the spell on that wall, we tended to the others. “The problem with blokes like Victor is that they never take anything lying down. There’re bound to be repercussions.”
“Which, surely, you can handle, being as skilled with a sword as you are.” Colleen held up her hands, and I could feel power flowing through them again. “And having loads of magic, apparently. But I can see why Victor honed in on you. What are you supposed to be, anyway?” She gave me a side glance. “Some sort of postapocalyptic cowboy?” But she didn’t say it like an insult. It almost sounded as if she admired me. “I mean, at first glance, you do give off kind of a lone-wolf, antisocial vibe.” She held the collar of my duster between her fingers, then let it drop.
“I am not antisocial. I just don’t like being around people very much,” I muttered. I had to admit, my dark hair and coat stood out in stark contrast to Colleen’s blond waves, the colorful flowers in her hair. A bird of paradise standing with a raven. We walked to the next wall, where more practice dummies stood. “Besides, no one here seems to bother you about . . .” I glanced up and down at Colleen. I thought of the way she looked, dressed, carried herself. Basically everything I adored about her.
Colleen smiled, then spun around. She called a sabre to her hand and lopped off a practice dummy’s head. “Not anymore.” Then she laughed. I looked at the dummy again, and its head was back on. It had all been a glamour; the practice sabres weren’t sharp. “But maybe you’re not to blame for the way you look. I’m surprised you can see well enough to get dressed in the morning, what with all that hair falling into your eyes.” She brushed my bangs away, and I desperately wished her fingers would accidentally touch my face. Instead, she let her hand fall and looked quizzically at my hair. “That’s funny.”
“My follicles amuse you?”
“Your hair is so shiny, I thought it had product in it.” Colleen waved the sabre back into its place, never taking her eyes off me. “I’ve actually known a few bad boys who took great pride in their hair. But yours isn’t stiff. It’s soft, like feathers. Oh, well. Here I thought you were this dangerous, angry rebel. But you’re so rational. So well-adjusted. Imagine my disappointment.” She spoke over her shoulder as she walked toward the third wall.
Me? Well-adjusted? Were Colleen and I talking about the same person? I followed her, and we reinforced the wall’s protection spell. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you. Though there is quite a lot here to rebel against. Most of what goes on at this school is bollocks. Like that silly Tournament.” Colleen’s mouth made a little O. “Please don’t tell me you’re obsessed with it, too,” I groaned as we turned to work on the last wall.
“Well, of course. It’s even bigger than fencing, if that’s possible.” Colleen’s fire magic whipped through the protection spell, soldering it closed in an instant. I looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost next period. Work on the ceiling would have to wait till next time.
“Anyway, I’m glad you made the air team. You give it a little extra something. Un je ne sais quoi. I mean, look at you.” She circled me, lazily dragging one finger along my shoulders. “All long limbs and supple grace. And some kind of athleticism beneath it. Not in the brutish sense of a rugby player, but the catlike kind generally associated with ninjas. I think it would be very exciting if we ended up squaring off. Again.” Her eyes gleamed, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Yes, well, we’ve seen what your idea of ‘exciting’ looks like. I can still feel the pain ringing in my teeth.”
“Oh, it wasn’t all that bad, was it?” She walked to the doors and stopped halfway through one. “I really enjoyed our first date, Joshua.”
“Date?” I stopped short next to her. “You thought this was a date?”
“Well, it’s hard to get away at Equin.” She kissed me on the cheek, and I thought my heart would explode.
“I’ll take what I can get,” she whispered. The door closed behind us, and I stood dumbfounded as I watched her disappear down the hall.
Chapter 12
“I can’t believe you have a girlfriend.” There was a snap and a fizz as Miles popped open his soft drink.
I could scarcely believe it, either. “It’s not official.” I said, taking a mouthful of minced beef. “We’ve only been on a few dates.” I wasn’t counting the times Colleen and I tended the fencing equipment and gym together. I did count the times we’d walked around the pond in Equinox’s garden out back. Still, neither she nor I was seeing anyone else, so we were sort of an item by default. It was several weeks after Colleen destroyed me in fencing, and I was still pinching myself.
“Near as.” Miles had to speak especially loud to be heard; the dining hall was in more of an uproar than usual. It was late October. Samhain was in a few days, and the half-term holiday meant most students would go home for over a week. Not me, of course. Titus and I hadn’t talked about my returning home—not even after the year ended. I would just as soon stay at Equinox during the break. Home was the last place I wanted to be.
Although most mortals who know about Samhain associate it with their own Halloween, it’s more akin to the Wiccan New Year. Pentagrams with colorful autumn leaves hung from the rafters. Strings of bright orange lights were laced around the room. The podium in the center of the dais had been turned into an ancestral altar. There was nothing but talk of rituals and parties. Everyone was smiling and laughing. And, although I knew it was ridiculous, it felt like the whole world was celebrating me finding Colleen. Even Victor and his thugs had been blessedly quiet. Ordinarily, I’d find that to be cause for alarm. But I’d been so wrapped up in Colleen that I hadn’t given it much thought.
Imogen snorted. “Why can’t you believe Josh has a sweetheart?” she asked Miles. “If you can get one, there’s hope for anybody.” Suyin’s shoulders shook in silent laughter. Even Pen chuckled. Miles made a V sign with his fingers and thrust them at Imogen.
“Well, I think it’s fantastic.” Suyin started on her fruit cup. “I can’t believe Colleen sits at our table now.”
“We’ll be popular by default,” Imogen agreed.
“Yeah, but whose fault?” Miles muttered, mouth full of baked beans. “My popularity should be good enough for anybody.” The entire table rolled their eyes while Pen replied, “Yes, dear.”
“I’m thinking about wearing flowers in my hair, like Colleen,” she continued, chewing a piece of cantaloupe thoughtfully. “What do you all think, all?”
“Colleen said my hair would look amazing if I glamoured some colored streaks into it,” Imogen said. “Is that against the dress code?”
Suyin knitted her eyebrows. “It shouldn’t be, but I’ll have to check. I don’t think there’s a hair code.”
“Ooo—there she is now!” Pen said. “She’s coming over. Colleen! Colleen!” Pen waved her hand in the air.
“Why does she get away with not wearing a waistcoat?” Miles put down his fork long enough to ask. “And not having her collar buttoned up?”
“Probably decapitated the last person who troubled her about it,” I said, thinking of the practice dummy.
“Nah.” Miles returned to eating his beans. “Sweet-talked ’em is more like. Besides, you six formers get away with everything. You can e
ven see it in your walk.”
Indeed, Colleen sauntered over to us with what could be called a swagger, except it had less ego and more exuberance. “Not my walk,” I said. “How does she have such confidence?” I asked, almost to myself.
“Her confidence is like Cyrano de Bergerac’s: encased in three feet of steel,” replied Miles. While I admitted that being a fine fighter like Colleen was would make anyone feel self-assured, it was more than that. Anywhere Colleen went, she looked like she belonged—even if people thought she didn’t. She was the exact opposite of me. I’d spent my childhood wandering from place to place, knowing I’d never really fit in anywhere.
Today, for instance, she’d made the flowers in her hair magically keep changing colors. The effect was mesmerizing; you couldn’t keep your eyes off her. Or maybe it was just me.
“Hello, love.” I stood up and kissed her cheek as she sat down. I inhaled her gardenia scent and felt my heart flutter, my stomach go light. “You’re looking lovely as always. Impale anyone today?”
“No, but it’s still early,” Colleen said agreeably as she smiled and set down her tray.
“Hey, Colleen, we had a question about the dress code. Erm, hair code . . .” Suyin started. Soon she, Pen, Imogen, and Colleen were engrossed in a conversation about tresses, makeup, and other important matters. Miles and I kept eating until I felt someone tapping my shoulder. I turned to see Zaira with an open book in her hand.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I would’ve used the summoning stone, but since you’re already here . . .” Colleen looked quizzically at me.
“No, it’s fine,” I said to Zaira. “What’s up?”
“Well, about this poison tree frog, do you know where I can find one? I’ve searched all over, and even used a magnet spell, but still . . . nothing.”
“I see.” I leaned over the book. “Ah, yes, that particular variety is native only to South America, I’m afraid.” I looked up. “Try one of the cold-weather ones we talked about earlier.”
Zaira sighed with disappointment. “Guess I’ll have to wait until summer to visit a country where I can get my hands on anything really interesting. Oh well. Thanks anyway.” She shut the book and went back to her table.
Colleen raised her eyebrows at me. “You’ve been discussing deadly amphibians with another girl? Should I be jealous?”
I shook my head. “Nothing to worry about. I’ve just been helping Zaira discover her passions. In defensive magic,” I said quickly. “You know you’re the only one I want to engage in mortal combat with.”
“The female of the species is more deadly than the male.” Colleen smiled and leaned so close to me, our faces were almost touching. The rest of our company groaned.
“Gods, you two, get a room,” said Pen.
“Preferably somewhere in South America,” added Miles.
***
“You don’t mind me tutoring Zaira, right?” I asked Colleen. It was after lunch, and we were on our way to gym duty. Today, we could look forward to sorting uniform laundry and sweeping and mopping the floor.
“Not if it helps her stand up to wankers like Victor and his ilk.” Colleen made a face at the mere mention of his name. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard what he did to her during tryouts. But I suppose, knowing Victor, I should have.”
“Yeah. But thanks for understanding. Besides, helping her kind of helps me, too. I think she’s been spreading the word that I’m not the scary freak everyone thinks I am.”
“Careful, now.” Her violet eyes fixed on me, and I felt warm all over. “I’m rather fond of your freak.”
I was grateful to have this time alone with Colleen, even if it did mean magically mucking out the gym. Even she, with all her charms, couldn’t get out of Burgess’s potions class every day. This meant I still ended up with a free period every so often. And whereas I’d been glad of it before, now I saw the time as wasted. I was impatient to spend every moment I could with Colleen.
Although Colleen had said she’d find it hard to choose just one boy to spend her time with, she seemed to have no problem spending it with me. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. At least for now. Who knew how long it would last? But I wasn’t looking this gift horse in the mouth. From the time I woke up, I was walking on air, going around Equinox with a stupid grin on my face. Even Miles said it was annoying.
“Fond of my freak, eh?” I said as we stepped into the gym. “Let’s hope you still feel that way after a while. It’s all well and good when things are shiny and new. But after a while—”
Colleen rolled her eyes. “I’m not exactly a stranger to controversy.” She gave a nonchalant wave of her hand, and an enormous laundry cart full of uniforms rolled until it stood in front of us. I sniffed the air. At least the laundry was clean. “You think people fear someone whose father’s a vampire? Try having one who’s a necromancer. Hell, it caused quite a stir when Specs chose me as prefect for fire in the first place.”
“Really? Why would that cause a stir?” I lifted my hands, and uniforms started coming out of the cart, one by one.
Colleen shrugged. She folded one uniform after another in midair before tucking them into the linen closet. “There were some who thought the position should’ve gone to someone of higher birth.”
I nodded. “You mean people like Victor. Careful—those have to be sorted by size.” I jutted my chin toward the uniforms. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘higher birth’?”
“Well, like your mum, mine was rather . . . low on the Wiccan totem pole.” Colleen checked the size tags on the uniforms’ collars, and started stacking them up again. “Back in the seventeenth century, she was a peasant whom my wealthier father took a shine to. She was still a witch, of course. But his powers were far greater than hers. He basically pulled her out of squalor and taught her how to use her magic.”
“Sounds like a supernatural Cinderella story.” I waved my hands around, folding uniforms as well.
Colleen managed a smile. “I suppose.”
“Does that mean your mom is hundreds of years old?”
“Was,” Colleen corrected. “She was killed by the Unseelie when I was little.” Colleen stopped folding the uniform in front of her. It hung there, lifeless, like a white, shriveled ghost.
So the rumors were true, I thought to myself. But I knew better than to ask why Colleen’s mother was killed. The Unseelie enjoy kidnapping and torturing people to death the same way normal people enjoy dinner and a show. In fact, it’s sort of both to them, as many are known to eat their victims—sometimes while they are still alive.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly, putting my hand on her shoulder. “I don’t suppose there was any going after them to avenge her?” I knew the answer before I finished the question.
Colleen shook her head, and quickly took up folding the ghost uniform again. “Josh, you don’t go after the Unseelie. Best you can do is lay low and beg the gods they don’t come after you.” There was a long moment of silence.
“True,” I finally said. I kept calling up magic to bring forth more uniforms, till I realized the cart was empty. With my mind, I carefully wheeled it back in place. “Scary dads. Absent mums. These are shitty things to have in common.”
“But at least there’s still hope for yours.” Colleen walked over to the supply closet. The door opened, and out flew two brooms. She handed me one. “You mentioned going to look for her after you got out of here. Possibly with your dad. Have you two talked about it any more?” She and I stood in a corner, waving our fingers at the brooms to make them swish around the gym.
“Please,” I scoffed. “I think the last time I talked to Dad, he was obsessed with carpet samples for his new casino. Probably had something to do with the giggling blond decorator I heard in the background.”
“How did you know she was blond?” Colleen gave me a look and stroked her golden mass of curls.
“Er, well, I didn’t. It’s just . . . I know a br
ainless girl’s giggle when I hear one. Not yours, obviously,” I blurted.
“Well, you never know.” Colleen frowned as her broom snagged on a corner of the floorboards. “Maybe your dad really does have something vampiric up his sleeve when it comes to finding her. They don’t think like witches do. Or even mortals. Still, that must be strange. I can’t imagine having a mother who was ever mortal. Then again, I never got a chance to know mine very well. Most of what I hear about her I get from Father. Or Georgie.”
“Georgie?” I snickered.
“My older brother,” she said defensively. “Several hundred years old, in fact. Also a fire witch. Very into munitions.”
“Still . . . Georgie,” I chuckled. “What kind of name is that? Sounds git-ish to me.”
“It’s short for George.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.”
“Oy, he’s a nice bloke. Clean-cut. Likes to explode things.” When I just looked at her without replying, she added: “Loves Monty Python. You two might actually get along.”
I shook my head. “I could never be friends with someone nicknamed Georgie.” Our brooms circled closer together, combining piles of dirt as we finished sweeping.
“You’re friends with someone named after a writing instrument. In fact, you really seem at home with Pen, Miles, and all the rest.”
“Yeah, well, too bad the entire school’s not like them.” I retrieved a dustbin and swept our mingled floor rubbish into it. Colleen put our brooms back in the closet. She took out two mops and a large, rolling bucket. “It’s still strange to walk in two worlds. The one where people know you, and the one where they don’t.” Colleen looked like she wanted to say something more, but didn’t.
“Is your skin pale because your father’s a vampire, or is it that way naturally?” she asked abruptly. A bottle of cleaning fluid floated in the air, turned upside down, and squeezed itself into the bucket. Then, Colleen put the bucket under a spigot and began filling it up.