The Reluctant Witch: Year One (Santa Cruz Witch Academy Book 1)

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The Reluctant Witch: Year One (Santa Cruz Witch Academy Book 1) Page 3

by Kristen S. Walker


  I glanced at Damian. “He means you,” I whispered.

  Damian glared at me. “I checked, there’s nothing in the handbook about boys wearing skirts. If girls can wear pants, they can’t stop me.”

  “And there are also guidelines for when you are out of uniform,” the old man droned on. “Pay careful attention to the section on proper attire for school dances and formal events. If you come to the Fall Equinox Ball in a spaghetti-strap or strapless dress, I will send you back to your room to change.”

  Damian snapped his fingers. “Rats. There goes my outfit idea.”

  The old man cleared his throat and shot a look in our direction. “Disrupting lectures is also grounds for a written warning.”

  We both snapped our mouths shut.

  “Thank you, Professor Goldheart,” the dean said. “It’s so kind of you to welcome our new high school students. Professor Einar Goldheart is on our college faculty as the head of the department of Elemental Water Studies, but he offers guest lectures to the first-years. It’s priceless to receive college-level instruction at your age.”

  I shrank inwardly. Every high school student was chosen to specialize in a single element, and I expected to be placed in Water. I hope I hadn’t just insulted someone who could be important to my studies for the next two years.

  Then dean swept their hand out to the side. “And now let’s hear from one of your teachers, Ms. Tabitha Murphy.”

  “Thank you, Dean Sparrowhawk.” A middle-aged blonde woman stepped forward, cradling an orange and white cat in her arms. I’d met her before because she had the same specialty as Mama Rosa. She was just as twee as my mother—her familiar’s name was even Precious.

  “I’m sure we’re boring you by repeating things that you’ve already read in your handbooks,” Ms. Murphy said. “But it’s important that we all understand and obey the rules. Studying magic is a privilege that can be taken away at any time. With all the scrutiny on witches these days, we have to show that we are upstanding citizens. We may seem harsh about penalizing you now, but we’re just trying to prepare you for the real world. The punishments are much worse once you have your license.”

  More rules. I didn’t know why Mama Rosa put up with all the bullshit. Just because one witch did something bad didn’t mean everyone else should suffer for it.

  But now Ms. Murphy was wrapping up the lecture. “Tomorrow, you’ll be tested and sorted into your elemental path, then receive your class schedule for the first semester. Make sure you’re at Lecture Hall One promptly at eight am so there are no delays.”

  Several students groaned at the early hour, but I leaned forward with interest. I couldn’t wait to find out what classes I’d be in. This was the moment when I found out if all the applications and tests to get into this school were worth it. When I found out what I’d get to study for the next two years.

  3

  The next morning, I was at Lecture Hall One at a quarter to eight. Part of my strategy for school success, as Mama Ashleigh liked to call it, was showing up early and over-prepared. I didn’t know what materials we would need for the elemental test. I’d brought a fresh pack of number two pencils, a blank notebook, and the school handbook. Along with the rest of my favorite school supplies, they were neatly organized in my messenger bag. To appease Damian, I’d worn the uniform pants. There was a morning chill, so I had a purple sweater layered over the short-sleeved shirt.

  Speaking of Damian, he’d promised to meet me outside. I kept checking the time on my phone, but there was no sign of him. Only a few other students were early like me, milling around and waiting for a teacher to open the door. No one was very chatty at this hour, so we were a silent group—just how I liked it.

  Five minutes until eight, Professor Goldheart opened the door from the inside with a dramatic flourish. “Ah, good, you’re here.” He and his frog familiar looked around as if noting each of our faces. “Come in, come in. There’s paperwork to take care of before we can start.”

  The others shuffled past him, but I stayed outside, looking back over my shoulder. “Sorry, I’ll just give my friend a few more minutes to get here.”

  The professor raised his eyebrow at me. “If you don’t come in now, you won’t get extra marks for being early.”

  I frowned. “I didn’t know we were being graded on the first day.”

  Goldheart’s frog croaked, and the professor smirked. “Whether you are being graded or not, someone is always judging your performance.” He twirled his robes as he walked back inside.

  I sighed and looked back down the wooded path that connected Lecture Hall One to the quad. My high GPA was a point of pride. Damian didn’t care as much, but he knew better than to hold me back.

  I watched as most of the other students walked into the classroom over the next several minutes. Through the open door, I could hear Professor Goldheart telling them that they were adequate—no extra credit, but no penalties, either.

  Then came the stragglers. To be fair, Damian was only two minutes late—and he was clutching a cardboard cup in each hand.

  “Sorry, there was a line at the coffee machine.” He handed one to me. “No sugar, a splash of almond milk, just how you like it.”

  My hands warmed up as they gripped the hot cup through the paper sleeve. “Thanks, but I don’t know if we’re allowed to take these in?” I pointed to a sign on the door that said “No food” with a burger icon crossed out for emphasis.

  “It’s not food,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. He took a deep breath of the steam rising from his cup and smiled. “I can’t focus if I don’t have my pumpkin spice.”

  Professor Goldheart marked us both down as late but didn’t say anything about the coffee. He nodded to a table along the side of the room with stacks of paperwork and told us to start filling out a form.

  The lecture hall looked totally different from any classroom I’d been in before. No school desks. Instead, there were tiers of seats rising up in a semi-circle. Each seat had a tiny desk surface that swiveled up from the arm, like tray tables on an airplane. I realized, with a start, that this was a college setting—big enough for a hundred students to see the professor at the front. There were four blackboards on the wall, arranged in a square, with tracks so they could slide around. How could you even reach the top two?

  There were also few seats left, since we were late. Damian craned his neck and finally spotted two open spots together on the far side of the third row. We hurried to sit down.

  The arm-desk-thing was barely big enough for a single sheet of paper. I had to stuff my messenger bag underneath my seat and cradle my coffee cup between my legs while I wrote.

  The paperwork just looked like more of the same that we’d done as part of the school application. There was a multiple-choice personality quiz and a few lines at the end for us to free-write about which elemental path we wanted to follow. I couldn’t believe there wasn’t more to the process. If this was it, why did they wait until we were at school?

  Professor Goldheart tapped his foot impatiently as everyone completed the quiz. We passed the sheets of paper to the front. Two teachers’ assistants, university students, collected the stacks of paper and brought them back to the table.

  “Perhaps I should explain a little about our process,” Professor Goldheart said, raising his voice to address the whole room at last. “Witchcraft is a broad area of study, covering many types of magic, and it would be difficult to give you a proper introduction to all of them at once. Because of this, we’ve decided to divide up the major departments of magic into four elemental schools. Each of you will be sorted into one of these departments and that will be your focus for the next two years.”

  Someone raised their hand, but the professor dismissed the question with a shake of his head. “Wait until I finish. Naturally, your first question will be, can you learn magic outside of your chosen element? The answer is yes, on a limited basis, but not until the second semester. That means anyone who is not in the Air
school can’t fly until after the winter break.”

  Anxious murmurs started up around the room. Everyone wanted to learn how to fly on a broom as quickly as possible so they could jet around town. I breathed a sigh of relief, though. So long as I didn’t get stuck in Air, I would be safe from heights for at least a few more months.

  “You have a summary of the four elemental paths in your handbook,” Professor Goldheart continued. “From your applications, we already have a good idea about which element you fit best. This final test is mostly a formality—a ceremony for the start of school.”

  Another hand shot up, this one with glittery purple nails. Samantha had been up late last night re-doing her manicure. “What about the fifth element?” she asked, not waiting for the professor to call on her.

  Goldheart frowned at the breach in protocol. “The School of Spirit is not available to high school students. You may apply to that if you are accepted into the university.”

  Damian and I shared a look. The School of Spirit only offered advanced classes about the Otherworld, the Veil that separated our mundane realm from it, and the gates that allowed safe travel through the Veil. In other words, the kind of dangerous magic that my family caused so much trouble with. No amount of money would get the Queen Bitch into those classes early.

  Samantha pouted a little, but she mostly looked bored. I would bet that they’d put her in Fire, the same department Damian wanted. Fire covered active subjects like energy work, sports, and working with animals. And, for students over eighteen, the most controversial subject: sex magic.

  “Now, an explanation of the test.” Goldheart waved his hand at the papers. “The personality quiz gets to the heart of each element. Air covers flying, but also mental pursuits like astrology, numerology, and integrating magic into technology. Also breathwork, which includes chanting.”

  Two Broom Jockeys high-fived each other.

  “Fire is energetic,” Goldheart moved on, ignoring them. “It does well with students who are passionate and full of energy, go-getters who are ready to give more than a hundred percent to everything they do. These are the students who show up early—not late.” He raised his eyebrows.

  Did he just glance in my direction, or was he looking at Damian? It didn’t really matter, because people were turning to look at both of us, like they remembered that we’d been the last students to arrive. I sank lower in my seat, trying to hide from their gazes. Ugh, this was going terribly. No amount of coffee was worth this.

  “Water is our emotional school,” Goldheart said, patting his frog. “While some people think that this is better for the shy, retiring types, it actually takes a great deal of strength to handle the powerful emotions of Water. If you are fragile, Water will break you. I prefer only to take responsible, stable students into my classes.”

  I sat up again. Sure, I was a little shy, but I could push past that. Everything I’d done over my academic career had to show how responsible and stable I was. I had nearly perfect attendance, good grades, and my teachers wrote glowing recommendations about me. And I balanced the academic side with my swim team practices. People thought I couldn’t swim fast because I wasn’t tall, but not every type of stroke relied on long legs. My broad shoulders helped me in the butterfly, and I’d earned my spot in the junior varsity relay team two years in a row.

  Goldheart pointed at the floor. “But the most grounded students belong in Earth. It deals with a different type of physical magic; that which uses objects like herbs and crystals. Also, cooking, or kitchen witchery as some call it. They can be called homebodies, but Earth students possess a quiet strength.”

  Goldheart went to the table and picked up the papers. “I will evaluate these final tests and reveal your results after lunch today. For now, I believe you will have another tour of the school to attend.”

  I groaned. More delays? If this was just a formality, why couldn’t we get it over with? I’d already been on one tour of the school.

  But another student had appeared in the doorway and was waving us all to come join her. When we climbed down the stairs to the floor, I realized it was Hailey, the girl in charge of my building. I suppressed a groan at her bubbly personality. This day would take forever.

  “Okay, you guys, I know most of you got the basic tour over the summer,” Hailey said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “But I wanna give you a look at the real SCWA.” She pronounced it “skoo-ah,” like a skua bird.

  I covered another groan and rolled my eyes at Damian.

  He leaned forward, feigning interest. “Are we going to see where the college students hide the alcohol?”

  Hailey shot him a warning look. “No. But there are areas that a big group, like a family tour, can’t enter.” She clasped her hands together. “Who wants to see the unicorn meadow?”

  Several girls squealed in excitement. I glanced over my shoulder and, not surprisingly, it was the ones with the pastel hair we’d pointed out the day before. They rushed to the front while the rest of us followed along at a more relaxed pace. It seemed like we didn’t have a choice.

  The campus was built onto the side of a mountain and most of it was covered in trees, so we had to hike through the woods. I checked a map posted by the side of the trail as we passed it. Hailey was right—our first tour had only touched on the basics. I remembered my family seeing just the eastern part of the school, focusing on the high school buildings. The university was separate, with space for both the second and third degree students, so we’d seen less than a third of the whole area.

  The tour group walked out of the woods. I blinked in the bright midmorning sunshine and looked around. To the southeast, I saw the athletic center which included the pool for the swim team. Directly to the south, I saw an open field with tall obstacles for flight training and several buildings. In the southwest, there was another open area, but it was fenced off with a ring of oak trees for privacy.

  Hailey pointed at the ring of trees and beckoned us forward. Her squirrel raced up into the trees and looked down at us expectantly. “This way,” she said. But before we got too close, she stopped us and raised her hands for attention. “A couple of ground rules. First, keep your voices down and don’t make any sudden movements. The unicorns are easily startled. Second, keep your distance—at least one hundred yards away at all times. Do not attempt to touch or feed them. And third, don’t turn your back on a unicorn. Remember, these are wild animals with sharp horns and powerful magic.”

  Despite her warnings, I saw several people taking their phones out. I rolled my eyes again. There were a million pictures of unicorns on the internet, but everyone wanted their own blurry selfie.

  I folded my arms and hung back from the others. It wasn’t my first time seeing a unicorn. There was one old stallion that liked to visit the Fae court back home, and when I was little, Mama Ashleigh had gotten permission for me to pet him. His coat was softer than velvet and his mane reflected rainbows like a prism, so it was cool, but lots of magical creatures were like that. I guess I never caught the same fever that other little girls did.

  We tiptoed through the oak trees and stopped at the edge of the unicorn meadow. Several unicorns were scattered around, most of them grazing on wildflowers. One rested in the shade under a tree. A few turned to look at us, flicking their ears in our direction, but mostly they just looked bored.

  Hailey kept a sharp eye on our group. The Crystal Unicorn Girls gasped and grabbed each other, letting out muffled cries, but Hailey shushed them. One of the Broom Jockey guys took a step too close, and the RA grabbed his arm to pull him back in line. She was like an experienced preschool teacher with a herd of toddlers—nothing got past her.

  “Now, many first degree students try to sign up as unicorn keepers,” Hailey explained in a low tone. “And you can technically become a unicorn keeper after a few training sessions, but I’m going to let you in on a secret. It’s a lot harder than it sounds and not at all glamorous. Ever worked in a stable before? It’s mostly
mucking out their waste and hauling around heavy bales of rainbow hay. You don’t get to ride them or anything fun.”

  One of the pretty fangirls stuck her lower lip out. “You have to ride them sometimes, right? Don’t they need exercise?”

  Hailey shook her head. “It’s an insult to an intelligent creature. They can exercise on their own, and you’ll see how fast they can run if you ever try to mount one.”

  She turned and pointed north. “You’ll notice that we’re close to the school’s herb garden. The unicorns provide fertilizer for many of the plants we grow.” She pointed to me. “You’ll probably want to volunteer for garden duty, Brie.”

  Heads turned toward me. Oh, great, I was already getting singled out. “I, um, wasn’t sure what I was going to pick for my service project yet.” I didn’t want to point out that I’d spent way too much time in my mom’s garden already.

  Hailey shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you’ll all want to start thinking about your service hours and sign up as soon as possible. Spaces fill up quickly and if you wait too long, you could get stuck washing dishes in the dining hall.”

  Dishes didn’t sound so bad, actually. There was no magic involved, just soap and hot water, so there was nothing that could go wrong.

  Samantha sighed and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “Why do we even have to sign up for a service project? For the amount of money our parents spend on tuition, we shouldn’t have to work.”

  Hailey narrowed her eyes at the rich bitch. “You can learn a lot from hard work,” she said. “The school wants to foster a sense of community and responsibility among students. We take pride in our service projects for the school. But if you’re looking for an easy way to fill up the required hours, you can always become a test subject.”

 

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