Wilde Magic

by K M Charron

  Máthair Bello was Langston’s great aunt, and she intimidated him all the same. She was harder on him than anyone—probably trying to prove she wasn’t favoring her nephew. In reality, everyone felt sorry for him because of it, which made Syd question what people said about her. Did they envy that she was the High Priestess’s daughter or pity her for having to live under the scrutiny?

  The students did as instructed. The High, Black, White, Mental, and Elemental apprentices separated into their sects. Joining Sydney was Ava and Oliver McKellen, Penelope Wilson and her twin brother Daniel. The Wilson twins were opposite in every way. Daniel was kind and patient, inquisitive and thoughtful. Penelope was brash and arrogant with a wicked temper. Syd often wondered how two very different witches could be born from the same woman, in the same uterus, at the same time. She and Gerard were vastly different, but that was to be expected since they were eleven years apart and barely raised in the same house. He’d always been off studying somewhere, and it was no different now. He’d been away training with the Czech Republic sect for five years now, learning how to hone his countless skills for a place among the Elders, all while teaching Black magic to first-year apprentices. Any middlings that knew him thought he was in an international business program through Cornell University.

  Despite his natural talents in their family lineage of Mental magic, her brother became obsessed with Black magic (namely curse, blood, and bone magic) at fourteen and promptly became an expert in both proficiencies. Sydney’s mother couldn’t have been prouder.

  For those rare occasions when a student showed an aptitude for magic outside their traditional bloodline, all apprentices were schooled and tested in everything. Gerald’s scores were off the charts. That’s why he was allowed to study under the Czech Republic coven’s Master of Black Magic. This made Gerald even more of a special snowflake in their mother’s eyes. He was in line to make Elder by the time he was thirty. Leave it to perfect Gerald. No one else had made Elder status before their mid, maybe even late, thirties.

  Ugh, why was she thinking about this now? She had to concentrate. There were no second chances. Magical education was cutthroat because, in a real-life magical battle, death was a very real consequence.

  Sydney had been raised with tales of witches betraying one another and competing with no reservations or concern for their opponents’ well-being. They’d even been known to attack one another unprovoked in rare instances.

  There was a peace accord among the dozen significant magical sects around the world, signed two decades ago, yet her mother had raised them to be ever vigilant to the fact that it could end at any moment.

  Máthair Bello opened her arms and sheaths of gorgeous blue and white silk flowed, beautiful against her black skin. Her long silver hair cascaded down her slender back in waves. She was eighty-eight years old but looked about sixty-five. It was one of the perks of being a witch. "We will begin with our White magic apprentices." There were eight apprentices with an aptitude for White magic—which consisted mostly of healing, protection, runes, bindings, and Elenchus––the ability to distinguish lie from truth. Khourtney was a White witch and a very good one to boot. It didn’t hurt that her Grandmother, Máthair Celeste Zhang, was the White Magic Master in the coven.

  The head families were all close. Her mother saw to it that she and Gerald only associated with the best bloodlines and had been particular about who she allowed them to play with growing up, although Sydney and her friends' affection for one another had cemented their bonds over the years.

  All of the White magic apprentices held their collective breath, as Máthair Bello scanned the crowd. She held up a single finger to her lips as though she was contemplating, but Sydney knew everything Bello did was purposeful.

  Her narrowed gaze moved past the White magic sect as she pointed cursorily into the middle of the Mental magic apprentices. "On second thought, I select the Wilson twins to begin," Máthair Bello announced regally from her perch atop her throne. Silver and ornate, it was decorated with rare gems and ancient carvings, protecting whoever rested upon it.

  Loud sighs of relief could be heard from the White magic apprentices at the sudden change in plans.

  Syd wasn’t surprised at the shift or that Máthair Bello put Penelope and Daniel against each other. The apprentices were given an idea of who they’d challenge, but that could always change since the Elders liked to keep them on the tips of their witchy boots. Langston’s great aunt had a sick sense of amusement and, knowing how different the twins were, she probably thought it would be entertaining.

  The Wilson twins stepped forward, identically dressed in their formal emerald robes with deep purple trim and sashes, and seemed ready to battle. Each wore the countenance that you would expect at a funeral. Their bodies were rigid, with straight backs and raised heads. They moved to the center of the room. Daniel and Penelope strode to their spots behind a table arranged with various objects. They turned and bowed at Máthair Bello who sat before them on the bejeweled throne and to the other Elders and Lords in attendance who flanked her on iron seats accented with sapphires. The twins turned and bowed at each other, one palm flat on their heart and the other resting behind their backs.

  Sydney took a quick glance around and saw her mother was missing. Did she care so little that she couldn’t even be bothered to show up? As High Priestess, she knew how important testing was, especially after all the grief she’d given Sydney. Swallowing hard, Syd lifted her chin, understanding with an ache in her chest that her mother would never have missed one of Gerald’s.

  Máthair Bello raised her arms to garner everyone’s attention. "There will be an amendment to this trial. Each time an opponent fails to complete their task successfully, a fellow apprentice of the same proficiency will feel the consequence."

  The crowd erupted with murmurs. Sydney strengthened her shields so she wouldn’t feel the added anxiety now flittering through the Hall.

  A few gowned arms shot up into the air. Máthair Bello called upon Cara Anders, whose eyes were like white saucers. "With all due respect Máthair, that has not been part of this trail before. My older sis—"

  Máthair Bello silenced Cara with a quick flick of her wrist. "Do not concern yourself with what others before you have done. This is how we are proceeding. Ready yourselves."

  "But Máthair Bello, who will be the apprentices to receive the," Justin paused before continuing, "consequence?"

  "I said for all to ready themselves." She gave a fixed smile and turned her attention back to the twins, signaling the start of the trial. Penelope and Daniel obeyed, moving the desired objects the prescribed distances across the wooden tabletops. Sydney’s throat constricted as she watched their skirmish. They’d be judged on precision, strength, speed, and overall execution. And now the stakes were higher than ever.

  Syd’s mind raced with possibilities for the consequence. Could Máthair Bello really be so cruel? An icy chill moved across her skin. This had the mark of her mother all over it.

  Penelope flicked her wrist and extended her fingers. The ceramic bowl slid swiftly to the end of the table, stopping on a dime.

  "Penelope’s a bitch, but man she’d good," Ava whispered to Sydney. All she could do was nod in agreement as fear whirled in her gut. She’d be going up against Oliver, but she’d be compared to everyone’s overall score. She tried to calm herself with slow breathing and focused thoughts, picturing her items obeying her fingers, ignoring what her failure might do to a fellow apprentice.

  It was Daniel’s turn again. He was instructed to move the same ceramic bowl to the far end of the table. He turned his wrist, his fingers tensed, and he aimed at the bowl, which careened off the edge of the table, smashing into shards on the stone floor. A resounding ‘Oh’ filled the room, and then the crowd searched the Mental apprentices for the impending repercussion.

  A shrill cry echoed through the Main Hall. Sydney’s stomach tightened into a ball. Ava was on her knees, bent over in pain, arms clu
tching her stomach. Her body flinched as though a small current of electricity shocked her over and over. Syd put a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

  Máthair Bello waved her hand over Ava before setting her gaze on Daniel. "Again." Ava’s body relaxed, and she sucked in a deep breath.

  Daniel's mouth hung open, his skin pallid. "I, I don’t—"

  "This is a test, Mr. Wilson. If you decline to complete it, you will fail the testing. The choice is up to you."

  Daniel nodded and resumed his place at the table’s end. Raising his hands, he steadied his stance and began to move the bowl across the wood. His hands shook, and the bowl quavered as a result. Sydney held her breath as she waited for it to careen onto the stone floor below.

  The bowl lifted into the air and swayed. Daniel, desperate to steady it, attempted to lower it. The crashing sound as it plummeted into the floor shook Sydney to her core.

  Sydney’s eyes moved to Ava, whose expression was one of absolute fear.

  Ava’s body stiffened as it was rocked by the electric current. Her eyes were wild, her hands claw-like, and her mouth tightened into a line. Before Sydney could think better of it, before she could prevent herself, she called out, "Stop it! You’re hurting her!"

  The silence in the room was complete, yet all she could focus on was the fierce thrumming of her heart in her ears.

  Máthair Bello released Ava once again. She stood from her throne and closed the distance between herself and Sydney. "Are you volunteering to test next? Perhaps this will be the motivation you need, Ms. Lockwood," Máthair Bello declared in an icy, dismissive voice. With a wave of her hand, she reset the tables. The broken bowl––newly reformed––floated up from the rubble on the stone floor and found its way onto the wooden slab. In the same flat tone, she said, "Oliver McKellen and Sydney Lockwood," motioning impatiently for them to take their places as if she’d asked minutes ago and they’d failed to move.

  Sydney tried to find her footing and stepped up to her mark, keeping Oliver in her periphery.

  No one spoke.

  Sydney’s body burned with heat, sweat beading on her face and neck, running down her chest and back. How could she do this? She choked under normal pressure, and now?!

  Closing her eyes, she prayed to the ancestors. She needed their guidance more than ever.

  Máthair Bello raised her arms in the same stately way before dropping them to her sides. "Begin!"

  They bowed the sequence, Sydney fighting to keep her shaking under control.

  Oliver went first as he was on Máthair Bello’s left. Raising his hand, he gently moved his wrist in a small circle. A trace of yellow light gleamed on his fingertips. The wooden statue crept across the table, not nearly as quickly or easily as she’d have thought, especially having watched him practice. The pressure was getting to him, yet he’d done it. The energy in the room seemed to form a coven-wide exhale.

  It was Sydney’s turn. Lifting her hand, she tried to relax her fingers and felt the familiar, warm tingling in her hand and wrist. She did her best to block everything out and focused on the statue, releasing her magic. The statue sailed across the table and stopped just short at the end. The crowd clapped with fervor.

  Her heart sank into her stomach as her mind searched for spells that would work. This wasn’t only about not hurting one of her peers. It was about proving herself. She narrowed her focus on the objects in front of her, taking in their weight and shape, and waited for her next turn. Oliver waved his hand, sending the metal cauldron gracefully to the edge of the table in one fell swoop. She registered wild clapping and cheers. That had been nearly perfect. She could sense his conceit.

  She would not be intimidated.

  Methodically rolling up her silk sleeves, Syd stole a last look at Langston and Justin. Inhaling, she released a wave of magic on the exhale. The cauldron flew to the end of the table in a straight line, stopping perfectly at the edge. Cheers erupted. She wanted to let a grin escape her, but she wouldn’t celebrate before it was time.

  Oliver and Syd took three additional turns with nearly matching efforts. It was the final round.

  Anxiety washed off him, and she tried not to absorb its intensity––full enough of her own. He reached his arm out in front of him and let the magic flow. Two oversized ceramic bowls made their way across, stopping with half their bases over the table edge.

  "Points deducted," Máthair Bello announced.

  This was her final turn. Her eyes felt glossy, her vision blurred, and her mouth was warm and dry like cotton. She squared her shoulders, raised her hand, and sent the blast out of her fingertips. The duo of bowls moved only partway across the table before shattering into unrecognizable bits in a heap. Her heart squeezed, her vision spotted. What the hell had just happened?

  The room went silent. Her whole body tensed as she looked frantically to her small proficiency cohort.

  She didn’t have to wait long. Penelope screamed as her body tensed with the same frightening rigidity Ava’s had. She shook in the air before whatever force seemed to be holding her up ceased and she dropped to the floor in a heap. Daniel rushed to her side.

  "Well, that was interesting," Máthair Bello chided. She stood and slowly descended the steps from the throne area. Keeping her hands folded in front of her, she seemed to glide toward the middle of the floor. "To say I’m disappointed in the display I’ve seen tonight with these four competitors would be a vast understatement. I am rescheduling the remainder of the tests for all proficiencies in one week, as I cannot bear to witness this level of incompetence any further. It is a direct insult to your mentors." Máthair Bello halted. Her eyebrows squeezed together, causing lines to form around her eyes and forehead. "The skill you have exhibited this evening has been shameful. I suggest you all double your training efforts until you’re performing these tasks in your sleep, and I suggest beginning now."

  The apprentices stumbled and scuttled around, grabbing their materials and setting up their instruments. Sydney scanned the hall and noted that Máthair Bello had left along with most of the Elders and Lords. Her stomach flipped, her body was coated in sweat, and she clung to the side of the table to steady herself. The image of Penelope burned in her mind’s eye.

  It was her fault that Máthair Bello was disgusted. Her mother would hear about this.

  She hadn’t the faintest idea what she’d say for herself.

  Ainsley

  Chapter 15

  She needed to get into her dad’s files once and for all, to see what else he’d noted and to find out if the other locked files were about Daphne.

  He’d been coming out here for months, and she needed to know why.

  When the school day ended, she rushed to her dorm room, threw her backpack on the floor, and headed straight to the closet. She slid her side open, her gaze landing on a purple shopping bag. She pulled it off the shelf. Tucking it close to her chest, she brought it to her bed and slipped beneath the covers to try and warm up. It was the third week of September but felt like mid-winter inside the Ashcroft walls. She considered opening the window since the outside air was warmer. Instead, she slid a hoodie on over her uniform shirt, hoping the thick cotton would help.

  Ainsley pulled the computer out. Her eyes settled on it, and she inhaled a sharp breath, racking her brain for something she hadn’t already tried. Some name or date—or combination—that her dad might’ve used as a password.

  Ainsley fired it up and watched the screen spark to life. A family photo was the wallpaper. Part of her wanted to replace it, so she didn’t have to hurt every time she saw it, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t erase him.

  She double-clicked on file A_A_1, bringing up the box that asked for the password. It stared mockingly at her. Come on, Dad, send me a little hint. It hadn’t been any birthday, family name, or her dad’s favorite rock band. He preached about internet safety and changing passwords regularly to reduce the likelihood of being hacked like it was gospel. For all she knew, he us
ed some random mishmash of numbers, letters, and symbols. Whatever he was protecting must be important, maybe even dangerous.

  By the tenth failed attempt, she’d changed course. She moved the mouse to a folder that wasn’t locked away. Clicking on it revealed a list of titles. Scanning toward the middle, she stopped the cursor on one that read Ainsleys_14_Christmas. She clicked it, and a video appeared. They were exchanging presents at the foot of the Christmas tree, four months before he died.

  They’d been so happy. Her dad had been filming, her mom watching Ainsley open her gifts. Her dad passed the camera to her mom before embracing Ainsley.

  Ainsley pressed the pause button, freezing the image. Happy and loving with no idea that he would be gone a few months later.

  A thick, painful lump formed in her throat, and she brushed a tear away with the heel of her hand. "Did you really do it, Dad? Am I chasing ghosts?" she whispered.

  The door opened in a loud burst, causing Ainsley to reflexively slam the laptop closed, setting it beside her as if she’d been caught shoplifting instead of grieving her dead father.

  Harper stopped short, freezing with her coat half off her shoulders. "I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?"

  Her eyebrows were raised in a question, making her appear more concerned than Ainsley was comfortable with.

  "You’re crying."

  Ainsley forced a small laugh. "No, I was just watching a sad movie. I’m a big baby like that." She stood and hugged herself, forcing a smile to her lips. "Where are you coming from?" She made her voice animated as if she couldn’t wait to hear.

  Harper’s eyes grew big. She swept the rest of the way into the room, flinging her bag onto her bed. "Physics Club. And before you roll your eyes and tell me how lame that is—"

  Ainsley was appalled. ”I would never say that. I think it’s cool that you’re into science. I wish I enjoyed that stuff more, but I’m more of an arts and humanities type of girl. I think you’re brilliant."