Academy of Magic Collection

by Angelique S Anderson et al.

  At the fifth-floor landing, a door led to the hallway. After pushing open the door, I was greeted by solid darkness. A wild panic grabbed me by the throat, and I swayed my hands up and down against the wall, looking for a light switch. If not for the faint light burning on the stairwell, I would’ve had a full-on panic attack by now. Darkness wasn’t my friend.

  I found the light switch and turned it on, letting out a sigh of relief. The hallway loomed in front of me, seemingly endless, now bathing in eerie light courtesy of old-fashioned Victorian-style lights lining the walls. I gathered my luggage and stumbled down the hallway, passing room 501, 503, on the left, and 502, 504 on the right, and so on, until I made it to my room at the far end of the hallway.

  After struggling with the key for a while, I managed to open the door – again nervously searching for the light switch – and entered the room I would spend most of my time in, from now on.

  It was a clean, functional room, with as much personality as a prison cell. If it wasn’t for the turn-of-the-century wallpaper, or the large window looking out over the gardens, I would’ve probably run out and not come back. To the left, a single bed and nightstand made up most of the space. The right wall was dominated by a clothes’ closet and a desk. An old-fashioned armchair stood near the window.

  My gaze travelled to the window, and the heavy curtains on each side of it. After putting down my suitcase, I walked over to open the curtains. The starlit sky shone pale, dreamlike light on the garden below, and the fountains reflected the light in a mesmerizing spectacle.

  Maybe I could get used to this after all.

  Maybe leaving everything behind in the United States and travelling halfway across the world, to a remote music academy near a rural village in England, chasing my dreams, had been the right decision for me.

  Or maybe it had been the worst mistake of my life.

  Chapter Two

  Even though part of me wanted to collapse on the bed and fall into a coma for the next eight hours, Mrs. Evergreen had ordered me to head toward the grand hall where everyone else was gathered, and I wasn’t about to become a recluse on my first day. Besides, as my grumbling stomach stressed, I hadn’t eaten yet and I could use some food in my belly.

  I quickly changed clothes, desperate to get out of my current sweaty, wrinkled outfit (courtesy of the eight-hour airplane trip) and decided on something in between casual and formal – a knee-length skirt and a burgundy red blouse with short sleeves. I brushed through my shoulder-length, brown hair and washed my face in the washing basin cramped in the corner for the room. After a look in the mirror, I figured at least I didn’t look like I scrambled out of a car accident anymore.

  The trip downstairs went a lot faster than the one upstairs, but finding the grand hall proved to be a problem, even with the map I had taken from my planner.

  Reading maps apparently was a skill I did not possess in the slightest.

  After spending an eternity stumbling from one dark hallway into another, following the noise of voices in the distance, I finally found the grand hall.

  As I walked inside, my mouth dropped to the floor. The grand hall did its name justice – the ceiling was as high as that of a cathedral, with large crystal chandeliers dangling above my head. Wine red carpet decorated the floor. Long tables filled with food stood on both sides of the room, leaving the center of the room crowded with students, gathered in small groups. A live orchestra played music in the background.

  I was frozen to the ground, unable to move, completely baffled as I took it all in.

  Home. Being here felt like coming home.

  I felt myself smiling, and my shoulders relaxed. Having recovered enough to venture into the crowd, I made my way toward the dining buffet and put some food on a tray. Most of it was finger food, from fancy foie gras to miniscule croque-monsieurs and even some tiny pizzas. I also grabbed some napkins, in case I needed them.

  After piling food on my plate, I slumped down on an empty seat. The food smelled delicious, and I dug in right away, shoving a pizza into my mouth. Not only did the food smell delicious, it was delicious.

  While feeding my hungry stomach, I took in my surroundings—the students now, not the room itself. Most of the students were gathered in small groups, all of them laughing and chatting, but one group stood out from the others.

  This particular group, existing of five students, occupied the center of the room, and each of the students radiated confidence. They all looked like models and carried themselves with the confidence of people who knew they looked good. A girl with waist-length, blonde hair, who stood in the middle of the group, laughed so loud I could hear her from my spot.

  I finished eating, stuffing the last mini pizza into my mouth, grabbed the tray and planned to get out of there as soon as possible. Despite my earlier conviction I wouldn’t become a recluse, I had zero intention of socializing at this event, where everyone seemed to know everyone—I was way too shy to even try. Besides, thanks to jetlag, I was ready to sleep for twelve hours straight.

  “Dear students,” a voice echoed through a microphone, stopping my retreat before it could even get started.

  At the end of the grand hall, on a small makeshift stage stood one of the teachers. He clutched the microphone in front of him in his hands, and his voice was a little shaky as he spoke. “Our principal will now give the annual welcoming speech to all our new, and all our old students. Please welcome to the stage, principal Reynders.” The teacher moved away from the microphone and started clapping.

  The people around me clapped too. I scanned the buffet table for an empty spot to put my tray down so I could join in. I found a spot, turned around and started walking toward the buffet table... At the exact same moment as someone from the small group I’d been staring at earlier, moved in my direction.

  I bumped into him, and my food tray crashed down to the ground, making as much noise as a marching band.

  Everyone in the grand hall turned toward me, eyes burning with curiosity. A red, hot blush crept up my cheeks. I fell down to my knees to gather the napkins strewn all over the floor. The person I had bumped into, bent down as well.

  “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.

  “Hey, that’s all right,” a guy’s voice replied, sounding friendly rather than the agitation I had expected.

  I looked up at him from beneath the strands of hair that had fallen in front of my face, curious to see the face that matched the voice.

  He was gorgeous. I was pretty sure if you’d look up the word ‘attractive’ on Google, you would find an image with this guy’s face on. He had sleek, brown hair, and piercing, green eyes that stared straight into mine, making my cheeks glow. Even though he was bending down, I could already see he was tall and muscular. He had a sharp, masculine jawline, and a slightly rugged look. If he had walked straight out of a Calvin Klein catalogue, I would have believed it.

  “Let me help you clean up.” He took one of the fallen napkins and deposited it on my tray. Then he took the tray and handed it over to the lunch lady who had appeared from behind the buffet.

  People were still staring at me, but then the principal, standing on the makeshift stage, cleared her throat, and the students focused on her rather than on clumsy me. Letting out a sigh of relief, I tried to focus on what the principal was saying but the boy standing next to me, the one who had helped me clean up after I’d been a complete klutz, had me mesmerized.

  “I’m Nathan Hilliard,” he whispered, offering me a hand.

  I shook his hand, a bit reluctant because my palms were still sweaty. His palms, on the other hand, were remarkably cool. “Alanis DuChamp.”

  “That’s a beautiful name. Is it your first year here? I haven’t seen you around.” He kept his voice down, slightly above a whisper.

  “Yes… Just arrived. Plane got in a bit late.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. The more he spoke, the more my heart hammered in my chest like a freight train.

  “Ah. And you’re America
n?” He smirked, as if he found the thought of meeting someone from the United States intriguing.

  I nodded. Before I had time to worry we might fall into an awkward silence, he asked me another question.

  “What class are you in? I’m in the sixth class.”

  “I’ve no idea. Haven’t had the chance to look at my schedule yet. Is it set up by age?”

  Nathan shook his head. “No, by skill level. They base it on your performance in auditions.” He waved his hand. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. What instrument do you play?”

  “Is this a cross-examination?” I smiled to let him know I was joking.

  “Sorry.” A small blush crept ups his cheeks, which made him just about ten times as irresistible as he’d been before.

  I’d barely been able to form a coherent sentence in his presence before but now he looked at me like that… My brain turned mushy and I doubted I would ever be able to speak again.

  He kept staring at me, and I realized he was waiting for me to answer his question about what instrument I played. “Uhm, well… I…. uhm… I play the violin.”

  “What a coincidence.” He cracked a brilliant smile, the kind of smile that lit up the entire room. “I play the violin too.”

  My heart fluttered in my chest. Not only extraordinarily handsome, but he played the best instrument in the world—according to my own humble opinion—as well. If there ever was a prince Charming crafted especially for me, then Nathan Hilliard would certainly fit that bill.

  “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you around, Alanis.” The way he said my name made it sound like a melody straight from heaven.

  “Bye.” The word came out more like a lingering sigh. God, Alanis, don’t be so pathetic. He’s just being nice.

  I had always been awkward around boys. My best friend Sam—girl, not boy—said I had about as much charm as a salmon on dry land, struggling for air. Around boys, either my brain froze and I said extraordinarily stupid things that made zero sense, or my brain went into overdrive and I rambled on incessantly.

  And Nathan Hilliard wasn’t just a boy. I bet his presence would even make Sam flush, and she knew how to behave around boys about a thousand times better than I did.

  In the meantime, Nathan had hurried off to the group in the center of the room. The beautiful, blonde-haired siren who had laughed so loud earlier, shot Nathan a smile that had probably melted a dozen hearts already. Girlfriend? God, I hoped not.

  Reality-check, Alanis. Even if blondie isn’t his girlfriend, Nathan Hilliard is way out of your league, so much it isn’t even funny. Guys like him don’t even give girls like you a second glance.

  “For over two centuries, Allegro Academy has been dedicated to the arts, housing world-famous violinists and pianists, and even renowned composers,” the principal continued her speech. Her grey hair, tied in a bob, was tight around her face, making her head look like a skull. She wore a fancy striped dress-suit, and looked about as stern as Mrs. Evergreen—could they be related?

  “I wish all of you a great musical year, filled with triumphs and successes, and the ability to achieve new heights and discover new talents,” the principal said, wrapping up the speech.

  Everyone applauded and I saw this as my queue to retreat from the grand hall, as stealthily as a thief in the night. A more social person probably would’ve mixed and mingled a bit, but I wasn’t exactly good at socializing. Besides, the jetlag was giving me a headache.

  The climb up the staircase was as exhausting as the first time around. I pushed open the door of the fifth-floor landing again, stared at the dark abyss in front of me, and hurriedly searched for the light switch.

  I found the switch and pushed it… and nearly jumped out of my skin when the lights turned on.

  A person materialized in the middle of the hallway, his appearance as sudden as a ghost’s and for a second, I thought that was exactly what he was—a spirit of eras long ago.

  He was leaning against the wall, his black, wavy hair dangling in front of his eyes.

  The moment he moved was the moment I found my breath again, and I took in a large gulp of air, trying to compose myself.

  He moved lazily, undisturbed by my sudden presence, a casual smirk on his lips. When he turned to me, his eyes were grey as falling rain, or the sky before a storm.

  I didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t open his mouth to say anything either.

  “Why…” I struggled to find the words. “Why were you standing in the dark?” I blurted out.

  The man slithered away from the wall; his movements as quick as a serpent’s. “You don’t like the dark.” From the way he said it, I gathered it was a statement, not a question.

  “Why would you stand in the hallway with the lights turn off?” Defensiveness had slipped into my voice, even though I tried to keep my tone neutral. A small armada of spiders crawled across my back, and the hairs at the back of my neck stood on end. This guy put me on edge.

  “My muse works best in pitch-black darkness.” He stared at me, and then a small smirk played on his lips. “Besides, I think the better question would be: what are you doing here? All the others are downstairs, enjoying the party.”

  I was still on edge and the last thing I wanted to do was talk to this mysterious stranger who enjoyed hanging around in pitch-dark hallways on his own. “I just flew in from the United States, so I have enormous jetlag.” I walked toward him, fully intending to pass him by and head to my room. “And next time, maybe don’t hide in the dark trying to give people heart attacks.”

  “Sorry.” He brushed a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I tend to lose track of time when my muse takes over. I had planned to go downstairs, but it’s hardly worth the trouble now.” He glanced at his wristwatch for a second. “All the good food will be gone by now.”

  “So uhm…what’s your plan?” I asked. “Keep on standing here in the middle of the hallway trying to communicate with your…muse?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you do that in your own room?” It wasn’t like I really wanted to talk to him, but when I got around boys, I either had a brain freeze or I rambled on—now, I was obviously in ramble-on-mode.

  He shrugged. “I like it better here. The moon light flowing in through the windows is...” He nodded toward the arched, gothic window at the end of the hallway. “…Well, it gives this place a weathered, haunted look, and that inspires me.”

  I could see what he was talking about. The pale glow did give the hallway a certain transference, a sense of being between two worlds—a real and imaginary one. “But why not go into your room and practice?” I could imagine that, with this haunting light streaming through the gothic window of my bedroom, it would inspire me to play.

  “Not that kind of inspiration.” He smirked, which actually made him look kind of handsome, in a mysterious, otherworldly way. “I’m a composer. I don’t need to play to be inspired.”

  “You compose songs?”

  “No, I compose mathematical problems.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I compose songs."

  “Oh.” I knew that if I didn’t stop myself, I would continue asking him questions and if he’d come here to get inspired, that certainly wouldn’t help if I babbled on like a speeding train. “Well, I should get going.” I brushed past him as quick as I could and hurried toward my own room. It wasn’t that I was scared of him, not like in the first seconds I’d seen him when I thought he was a ghost, this was social anxiety. I could feel his gaze on my back as I fiddled with the keys, trying to open the door.

  “Good night, mystery girl.” He waved at me as I opened the door. I gave him a quick nod, and then vanished into my room and locked the door. Taking deep breaths, I leaned against the door, trying to wrap my head around what just happened.

  Come on, Alanis. There was nothing wrong with that guy. He was a little strange, that’s all. And your social anxiety is playing up again. Besides, if you think about it, he was quite friendly, even if it’s weird that he’
s standing in total darkness trying to “communicate” with his muse.

  I found my own muse in vast fields, underneath ancient trees, in grass tickling my bare toes, in blue lakes that stretched as far as the eye could see. I couldn’t imagine finding one’s muse in darkness, in eerie hallways and pale moonlight.

  Still, it wasn’t this mystery guy who got me spooked, it was Allegro Academy itself, with its endless maze of hallways and doors, large enough one could get lost in here and disappear for days. My own home was small and cozy, nothing compared to this monstrosity.

  The memory of home brought tears to my eyes. Halfway across the world, my Grandma all alone now I was here.

  I hadn’t wanted to leave her. The thought of leaving Grandma almost made me give up on my dream, cancel my plane ticket and stay home. But she’d insisted I come here and follow my dreams. Chase your mother’s ghost, she’d said with a smile that lingered between pride and sadness.

  I had and now I was here, at the point of no return. Even though today had been exhausting and the enormous house put me on edge, I couldn’t give up this easily.

  With a sigh, I collapsed onto my bed but leapt up again when something stabbed my back. I reached under my back and found my hairbrush.

  Weird. Didn’t I leave that on my dresser?

  Shrugging it off, I reached for the week schedule I had dropped onto my nightstand earlier when I’d deposited my luggage in my room. Group Four. First class, History of Music.

  I groaned and rolled out of bed. Group Four… So not group six, as Nathan was. Of course, I could’ve known I wouldn’t be as good as he was.

  I took off my clothes and grabbed some pajamas, kicking the dirty clothes in the corner of the room. After putting on the pajamas, I crawled back into bed and pulled the blankets up to my chin.

  The house squeaked and moaned throughout the night. Branches of a willow tree knocked against the window of my room, casting long, frightening shadows on the walls. Outside, the wind picked up and screeched while dancing around the mansion.