Wilde Magic

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Wilde Magic Page 8

by K M Charron

"You may not have noticed, but I’m not exactly running with the in-crowd. Last year someone put raw hamburger in my locker with a dog collar wrapped around it. My name on the tag." She shook her head as if to erase the memory. "Just hang in there. You’ll find your place. They’re only testing you because you’re new. It’ll stop soon."

  "Testing me? Why do they even care? It’s not like I’m the only new student this year." There was a pang in her chest that she recognized as longing. Was she actually longing for Augusta, for the very place she no longer fit in?

  "I don’t know why. You’re new, pretty, unknown, and not a freshman. Maybe they’re threatened." Harper ushered her through the hallway. "There are some nice people. I’ll introduce you. Besides,” she smiled with her usual brightness, “you have me."

  Ainsley smiled futilely, unable to shake her unease. "Thank you. Of all the roommates I could have ended up with, I’m so grateful I got you."

  Pushing her desire to go full Eeyore away, she looked at the positive. Now she could concentrate on finding out what her dad knew about those missing girls, specifically Daphne Whitmore, instead of wasting time at parties with all the new friends she obviously wasn’t going to make.

  Ainsley and Harper parted in opposite directions. She’d made it a whopping twenty-five feet before she spotted the red ponytail. She had neither the time nor energy to fight with Tiana too. Scanning the space, she spotted a wooden door and slipped inside, hoping it would still lead her in the right direction.

  The door closed behind her, leaving Ainsley inside a dark, empty corridor. Well, this is weird. It appeared to be a part of the school that was no longer in use. Her instincts stood at attention as the flickering lights overhead punctuated the darkness. She’d seen this movie.

  A shiver raced up her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Waving the odd sensation away, she took a few more steps. Closed doors lined either side, maybe leading to old classrooms or offices. She turned on the flashlight app on her phone. The sensible thing would be to get the hell out, she knew, but her dad would’ve stayed to investigate, and that was why she was here, after all.

  The walls were covered in chipped paint, and cobwebs hung from the corners, catching in her light’s beam. The rest of the school had been updated, but this part looked abandoned as if Ainsley had stepped back in time.

  Her beam bounced off a few mounted animal heads—a moose, a deer, a wolf, a black bear, and was that a jackalope? But jackalopes weren’t real! Ainsley walked closer to the jackalope and inspected it. It looked real as if it had once been alive. Its horns were twice the size of its furry gray head, its eyes red and beady. She would’ve touched it if she could, just to see what it felt like.

  She heard a low mumbling sound but couldn’t make it out. It was probably some ancient sump pump system or the heat, finally, coming on. That would be great, she’d been cold for twenty four hours straight, not even her hot shower had gotten the chill fully out of her bones.

  The mumbling intensified, although this time she thought she made out a faint voice.

  It couldn’t be. She was alone, and this hall looked like it had been abandoned for some time.

  "Leave here. Go now and don’t come back."

  A jolt struck Ainsley, and her cell flew out of her hands landing at her feet. Her heart hammered as if attempting to pound its way out of her chest. She scanned the area, looking for whoever it was that the deep and commanding voice belonged.

  "Hello?"

  She bent to retrieve her phone and bolted up, prepared to see a man step out of the shadows.

  Spinning in a circle, she saw she was alone despite the intense feeling of being watched.

  This voice was different than the one she’d thought she’d heard yesterday with Harper. Nastier and decidedly masculine.

  The dim lights began to flash off and on, disorienting her. She put her arms out as if to steady herself and tried to locate the door she’d entered from. She blinked, trying to clear her vision’s sudden blurriness as door after door appeared in a wave pattern as if they were moving. Which one was the exit?

  Ainsley made it to the wall, the lights flickering faster. A heavy malevolent energy weighed upon her.

  "Leave and don’t return!"

  An uncontrollable shudder rippled through Ainsley before she collected herself enough to sprint to the last door at the end of the corridor. When she reached it, her fingers fumbled on the handle. A sound like thunder rumbled around her, shaking the hallway floor. She shrieked as the heads on the walls began to sway. Her grip tightened, and the knob gave way. She burst out into the almost empty, brightly lit hallway she’d come from, chest heaving and legs shaking.

  Slinking down beside the door, she sat with her back pressed tightly against the wall.

  What the hell had just happened?

  She’d barely gained her breath when Headmistress Chambers, who Ainsley recognized from the website, stopped in front of her. "Taking a rest, my dear?” The headmistress’ tight smile and crinkled nose said enough. “Did you not see the sign on the door? It's clearly marked, yet you decided to enter anyway.” Her face remained emotionless and impossible to read.

  "Sorry, ma’am. I wasn’t feeling well," she muttered. “I thought my class might’ve been down this way. There was no sign.” Ainsley looked back over her shoulder and was startled to see a white sign with red lettering that said:

  RESTRICTED

  AREA UNDER CONSTRUCTION

  DO NOT ENTER

  “I swear, that sign wasn’t there.” Ainsley heard the confused shock in her own voice. Had it been there?

  "Are you all right now?" Chambers asked, clasping her hands behind her back. The woman towered over Ainsley who was sure intimidation was a favorite tactic of the headmistress. It was working. She didn’t wait for Ainsley's response. “Best hurry. You’re going to be late and on your first day no less."

  "Yes, ma’am." Pulling herself to her feet, she smoothed her skirt. "I’ll get to class."

  "See that you do, Ms?” Chambers asked as she scanned Ainsley head to toe. It was almost like the woman was reading a mental file on Ainsley.

  She swallowed hard. "Davenport."

  "See that you do, Ms. Davenport." The headmistress kept her gaze fixed on Ainsley until she turned the corner and was out of the headmistress’ view.

  Sydney

  Chapter 10

  A twinge of annoyance found its way into Sydney’s stomach as she read a text from Ava. She stood in front of her locker and glared at the screen, her fingers gripping her phone.

  Just thought you should know Justin was at that middling’s locker this morning. The idiot couldn’t open it, so he swooped in to save her. They seemed a bit too cozy if you ask me.

  Call it luck, or maybe some help from the ancestors, but Sydney saw Justin on his way to class, so she made a beeline for him.

  "I’m curious to know your thoughts on the new sophomore," she announced, putting her arm through his.

  "Hello, Syd.” He kept his pace even and didn't look at her. "Not sure what you’re talking about." Justin had a consistently solid poker face.

  "I heard you were making googly eyes at each other in front of her locker this morning."

  He smirked. "Do you have spies everywhere? Besides, why do you care?"

  She could hear the subtle pep in his voice, and it annoyed her.

  "It’s my duty, as your best friend, to keep an eye on you, so you don’t make stupid mistakes with middlings." She batted her eyelashes, even though he hadn’t been affected by her charms since they were twelve.

  "She seems like a nice girl. Not sure why you’ve got her under your microscope."

  "I like to be aware of who is around us. It keeps us safe and our secrets protected. Which is exactly why you shouldn’t even be talking to her."

  He chuckled. “Jeez, you’re on fire already. We speak to middlings all the time. It’s kind of hard not to when there are over a thousand of them and only dozens of us around here."
>
  "I haven’t known you to come to their rescue before."

  He laughed even harder. "Relax, I helped her open her locker. I didn't pull her from a burning building, and we talked for all of thirty seconds. It’s a non-issue."

  "Glad to hear it." Sydney was more than relieved. There was no way in hell she’d let her best friend get mixed up with whatever kind of weird middling Ainsley was. Her stomach settled. "Do you want to come with me to The Raven’s Eye after school, before coven classes? I need to pick up a few things that Mirabeth ordered in for me."

  "I said I’d meet Jax for a swim. He wants me to time him."

  She rolled her eyes playfully. "But that’s so boring." She punched him in the arm. "Come on, I’ve barely seen you in weeks. I miss you.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “Let’s go into town, pick up my stuff, grab a bite to eat, and you can fill me in on what’s new."

  He grinned and rolled his head to the side. It was his tell, so she knew she’d won. “Fine. I guess I miss you too. Where have you been lately?"

  "My mother is a tyrant," she groaned. "She asked Summer Morrow to tutor me in Black magic because she wanted to see if I had the same inclinations as Gerald."

  Summer was technically a Lord, but as she was only twenty-three, there was no way Syd was going to refer to her as Máthair.

  "And do you?” His intrigue was justified, given that most witches were only fully gifted in their inherited proficiency. Her brother was gifted at both Mental and Black magic. Sydney prayed she was too. If not, it would be one more deficiency for her mother to hold against her.

  God, she wished she still had her dad. She missed the way he’d stood by her. Tell her she was perfect just the way she was. Remind her that both his children were remarkable in their own ways.

  "So far, so good.” She stopped and put a hand on her hip. “That’s what Mirabeth ordered for me, books to study in my free time: A History of Black Magic and A Study in Curse Magic.” She smirked. “I pray there are pictures!” She nudged her shoulder into his as he laughed. "Meet you at the fountain after school."

  She left Justin and headed to AP Chemistry. She had about one minute until the bell.

  At least Langston wasn’t in her class. She was too tired to continue their fight, which had morphed into a who should’ve extended the olive branch to whom debate about their last argument. She’d been up until three in the morning text-arguing with him. Her thumbs were still achy.

  Throwing her purse on the desktop, Sydney gave a dramatic sigh.

  "What’s with you?" Ava asked from the seat next to her.

  "It’s chem. Isn’t that enough?"

  "Did you talk to Justin yet?"

  "Did I hear interesting news? Who’s got gossip?" The British accent and inflection could only mean one person. Jax lowered himself into the seat on the other side of Sydney.

  "There’s no gossip, Jax, so just relax. Unless,” Ava’s eyebrows rose, “you’re talking about how Justin is a little too curious about our favorite new girl." She lived to stir shit up.

  Professor Winslow called the class to attention.

  Jax looked down his black-rimmed glasses at Sydney. "New girl news? Dish.”

  Sydney gave him a placating stare and whispered behind her hand, “She’s just as pathetic as she looks.” She could stir the pot, too. “She’s already trying to get her hooks into Justin. Rumor has it she’s already pissed off a few girls,” she winked and turned faced forward, “and it’s only her second day.”

  “Miss Lockwood, your attention would be better served directed toward me, don’t you think?” Professor Winslow asked.

  "Yes, sorry.” Good little Lockwood.

  He grunted and waved to her. “Please, come down here, Miss Lockwood, and write the balanced equation for glucose, as that’s what we’ll be discussing today."

  It wasn’t just Ava and Jax staring at her now but the entire class. She could read the prevailing emotion—the majority hoped she’d fail miserably. She stepped away from the desk and sauntered down to the front of the class, head high. When she stopped in front of Winslow, he placed the chalk on her outstretched palm.

  Like taking candy from a fat, stupid baby.

  "This ought to be interesting," he announced before stepping back and giving her the floor.

  She liked being underestimated.

  While magic outside of the coven tunnels and Nest was strictly prohibited—especially in the presence of middlings—there was no way she was going to stand here looking like an idiot. Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t gotten away with the odd harmless spell here and there. True, she had been dabbling in them more and more lately, and nothing bad had happened so what was the harm? All the apprentices did it. What the Elders didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

  Sydney raised the chalk to her lips and whispered an incantation under her breath. Tingling warmth went from her fingertips up her forearm. Feeling the chalk take on a life of its own, she allowed her hand and arm to move gracefully along the black surface. When it stopped, she drew back and grinned at the perfect execution of an equation she didn’t understand. “Anything else, sir?”

  Professor Winslow dropped his tightly crossed arms and moved closer to the board for inspection. Shaking his head, he muttered, “That will be all for now.”

  Maybe she should have felt guilty for cheating, but she didn’t. Instead, she remembered the words she’d heard her mother use so often:

  Success, by any means necessary.

  Ainsley

  Chapter 11

  The farther Ainsley moved away from the shadowed hallway that talked, the easier she could breathe. Her mind replayed the series of events. It didn’t make sense. Clearly, she was under more stress than she’d recognized. She hadn’t remembered leaving her backpack open, and now this? She’d made quite a leap in the losing-her-shit department, going from undone zipper to auditory and visual hallucinations in under 24 hours.

  She laid out the facts to herself: the corridor had been creepy but harmless, her overactive imagination and lack of decent sleep had conjured the rest, and disembodied voices were not following her around.

  Ashcroft probably curated lots of weird artifacts and stored them in that “closed-off" section, which didn’t seem to be under construction, despite the sign that had appeared on the door. Ainsley swore it hadn't been there. And then there were the murmuring voices, the shaking, and moving doors that were, no doubt, a panic attack. She’d never had one before, but maybe that was what they were like—your senses short-circuited and you felt ambushed.

  She was relieved to notice that the unsettling feeling of being watched had popped up here and there since arriving was gone. Her psyche was simply overwrought and playing tricks on her. The stress of her dad’s death, a new school, a new city, and reading her dad’s notes about missing girls had cumulated in a perfect storm of spooky. Everything about Ashcroft Academy was daunting. Just thinking of the name made her feel felt like it should have its own majestic theme music attached.

  Ainsley scuttled from the middle of the hall toward the lockers, in danger of being trampled by a pack of mini CEOs on their way to World Domination 101. Leaning back against the cool metal, she stared intently at the map.

  She noticed that a custodian pushing a squeaky cart full of cleaning supplies was stopped a few feet away, cleaning one of the trophy cases.

  "Excuse me. Would you help me find my classroom? I’m a bit turned around."

  His thick caterpillar eyebrows rose as he stopped cleaning as if surprised someone had spoken to him. "I’d be happy to help, miss. Which room number?" His voice had the distinct sound of someone who’d smoked for thirty years, which looking at him, he could’ve. The lines around his eyes and mouth were deep.

  "E hallway, room 414," she said, smiling.

  He gave her point by point directions, including a short-cut to avoid the crush around the main staircase.

  Ainsley waffled. She knew she should be on her way to class, but her dad had
once told her that a good investigator spoke to the people on the periphery, that they were the invisible eyes and ears of a place. And because they were usually ignored, they were often eager to talk. By his initial shock at her speaking to him, it was clear her dad had been right. This guy probably knew everything that happened at Ashcroft, including all the juicy things no one wanted him to know. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

  “Thank you so much. Um,” she coughed and tried to look sheepish, “do you mind if I ask you a question?” She leaned in a bit and whispered, “I heard a rumor that there was a girl at a nearby public school who went missing last winter. Do you know if she was ever found?"

  His brown eyes widened, and he pulled his head back. “I’ve never seen you ‘round here. You new?”

  “Yes, I just moved here,” she tried to sound chipper. “Today’s my second day on campus.”

  “So how do you know about that girl then?”

  “Oh, I heard a few students talking about her,” she explained, looking as if she was embarrassed about being a snoop, “but I missed a big chunk of their conversation. Sorry to bother you, sir. I’m sure you don’t have any information that I couldn’t find online, anyway.” She faked a turn like she was leaving and prayed he’d call her back. He struck her as the type of lonely, self-important man who didn’t want to be told he didn’t know something.

  He appeared to scan the area, making sure no one was watching them together, leaned back in and said, “Poor girl vanished in the middle of the afternoon without a trace."

  Yes, he was still on the line. She faced him again, opening her eyes wide in pretend shock, glued to his every word.

  He ran a hand through his thick salt and pepper hair. "No sign of where she went, or with who. One minute she was at the Winter Festival, you know the kind with hot chocolate, gingerbread cookies, and games to play, and then she was gone. Poof." He clapped his hands together to demonstrate, the abrupt sound made her jump. "Her family, friends, the police—everyone was out looking for that girl for weeks. Didn’t find a clue anywhere. Case went cold shortly after."

 

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