After the bell rang, my classmates sprinted out, as expected, while Claire didn’t move.
Instead, she took a box out of her bag. When she opened the lid, she giggled. It was filled with strawberries, not what I imagined a lunch to be. She spread a fine cloth on my part of the desk and put the biggest berry on top of it.
“Want one?” she asked. “They’re ours. I mean, from our greenhouse.”
With a slight smile, she nodded approvingly to which I replied with an equal smile, though I wasn’t very skilled at it.
I held the berry, admired its glossy texture. She watched me, invading my comfort zone and got one for herself. Careful but determined, she grabbed my hand and guided it towards my mouth. We bit into the pulp at the same time. After a few bites I was finished while Claire chewed hers whole, and before she gulped it down, she introduced herself to me once more.
"What's your name again?" she asked.
"Verra. Verra Volkov."
"Then I am Claire. Claire Di Centi." When she spoke, pieces of strawberry tried to flee from her mouth but she caught them in time. “It’s my first semester.”
A few strands of hair got stuck on her lips. They were as red as the berries and made me curious if their taste was as sweet as them, too.
What am I thinking?
“Besides that, I’ve got hair in my mouth.” She laughed with closed lips. “I think I ate one.” And that made me laugh as well.
Shortly after, Claire grabbed another cloth out of her bag, since I failed to uphold our conversation, and sprayed liquid on it. Waves of lavender spread through the rows when she pressed it onto her face. She removed her blouse and revealed a laced top without minding my looks. No, she enjoyed them.
“Feels great,” she giggled, touching up her chest.
I followed her hand with my eyes.
“Won’t your gloves get wet?”
“I’m not taking them off,” she said in a harsher tone. “I mean, excuse me, I don’t mind. I can sniff them when I feel not so great.”
She redeemed herself for her rude answer by placing one berry after another on my table. I let my guard down, too easily, and was glad to be stuck in her system.
The moon-face kindly told me about their greenhouse. Various kinds of plants, vegetables, and more berries than I knew existed would grow there. She was proudest of the herbs. The passion for plants had been inherited to her by her mother, but she stiffened, mentioning her. I suspected Claire to be a real Mage and hoped that one day I could ask for those herbs and include them in my practices. Hopefully, she would share her studies with me.
Her face lit up when she reported the size of her lavender stock.
“Lavender is my favourite,” I said, and knew that was a lie but couldn’t figure out what made me do it.
“There should be more, and there will. One day, I’ll get rid of mother’s roses,” she mumbled.
They overgrew their yard, she explained, since her father ordered to never cut them back.
Also, she taught me how she prepared the lavender water, or alcohol, as it was the main ingredient.
I grinned from ear to ear and enjoyed listening to her knowledge of spirits and wines while nodding my head.
After the sweetness of strawberries wore off, I realised I was acting differently. She brought up parts of me I couldn’t call my own. My mind slipped from my control. I was uncertain and didn’t want to wrongfully accuse her, but the alcohol in my throat approved my theory.
“Quite weak,” I said raising one corner of my mouth, “your potion.”
I didn’t expect to get poisoned on my first day. Not by her, who looked fairly innocent. Nonetheless, I was positively surprised. I knew it would be only a matter of time until I encountered more magic. I caught the moon-face in the act, but she didn’t react as I expected. Instead, she changed the topic.
“I imagined your voice to be different,” she said, and I knew that compared to her tweeting I sounded like a man. Harriet’s clothes didn’t serve the situation.
Claire scratched her head. “Excuse me, I mean, it’s great. It’s true.”
With another strawberry she made me a peace offering to which I burst out in laughter, amused by her boldness. I liked her bravery and thought, that despite our obvious differences we could have much more in common.
Curious about her potion, I asked her about the studies she did to which she confessed that she didn’t do any and I proposed to study it together.
“You should’ve picked alchemy instead of spellwork,” she giggled, “if you like potions so much.”
“Alchemy? So, that’s what it’s called.” I dropped back, baffled. “How do you know about my courses?”
“Practically speaking, you reside on my property, I have to know. Who picks spellwork anyway? Don’t you know who’s teaching it?”
“Camilla Rose?” I asked, hoping she would tell me the name of someone else.
Instead, she nodded. “The Witch herself.”
“Witch?” I blurted out, as I was sure there had been no more left of our kind.
“Excuse me, I mean, not a real Witch, but she’s cruel and nasty like one. Don’t be scared, I can make them change it.”
I fell silent, disgusted of myself. That was what she thought of Witches and I feared the moment she would find out I was one of them. She could banish me from the campus since she had the right to do so. If Tholome Di Centi was her ancestor, Claire would know a way to alter the lock’s rules. If the others knew about her status, perhaps this was the reason why they left her alone in the back row. At least, that’s what I assumed and stayed quiet for the rest of our break where she continued feeding me berries.
At the end of our lunch, Professor Harriet appeared behind his desk as did the other students who formed small groups and celebrated their triumph of choosing the same courses.
The effects of the potion wore off.
While the corners of my mouth dropped, Claire was her unbothered self. Clasping my hand, she grinned and made sure to look me in the eyes this time. I had not caught a direct look at her glistening iris until then and watched them wander to the door.
She seized a bottle out of her bag and took a big gulp when a young man in a white coat stormed inside.
She had awaited him.
“Harriet!” he exclaimed but didn’t stop at his table.
Instead, he headed in my direction and I trembled.
“Tonio, it’s wonderful to see you,” the Professor answered before slobbering over him. “That’s what a Dicheval graduate looks like.”
He stopped in front of our desk, and I couldn’t deny the attractiveness of his face. His full lips dominated it.
“Curly, are you fine?” he asked and made me speechless.
He wasn’t talking to me, but my heart fluttered which I assumed to be the aftermath of Claire’s potion.
She chuckled and took my hand again.
“Fine then,” he said, and turned to me. “You’ll take her home. I’ve got patient visits and need to meet Bryon afterwards.”
His tone shifted into a serious one. Before I dared to answer, he continued, since he wasn’t asking me, but commanded it. “I’d say… an hour before sunset at the latest. At the air mother’s temple.”
But he didn’t specify which house to look for.
Claire gripped tighter and I nodded in return.
Afterwards, he jogged down to shake Harriet’s hand and hug him. During their banter, Claire poked my leg. “My brother.”
When Tonio left, he winked, uncertain to whom, and let the class erupt into havoc.
That’s how it played out in a mixed academy.
My prior school had done an outstanding job at keeping the other gender, even the idea of them, outside of the campus.
Between you and me—I didn't mind.
5. Rose Petals
The relieving gong of the chapel’s bell vibrated through the classroom and ended my first official school day.
“You’
re welcome to participate in festival preparations tomorrow,” Harriet said. “Otherwise, enjoy your day.”
I would’ve loved to run to the library and read every book in the magic section. The tingling sensation in my fingers had to wait as I was given the task of bringing Claire home. Afraid of her power over the academy, I concluded it would be best to do as she expected me to do, and pushed my studies further behind.
She was waiting for me and threw a cape over her shoulders. “You can never know when it will rain, can you?” she asked, pointing at the blackening sky.
When we stepped outside, the humid air stroked my sensitive skin and pulled my head to the chapel.
Meanwhile, the sun was defeated by clouds. Only a few minutes were left until they would swallow it whole. Raindrops announced their victory.
I turned my head to Claire, who hooded herself with a scarf.
“The chapel,” I said, “do you want to wait there until it stops raining?”
She nodded and grabbed my hand, pulling me from under the roof and letting the raindrops hail on me.
In the corner of my eye, I watched the library drift away and thought of ways to get the knowledge I craved from Claire.
The hinges cried out loud when she pushed her body against the iron door. The building hadn’t been visited regularly as it was only used for the bell. Here, we were the only ones present.
My clothes were sticking to my skin, drenched, as was my hair. A puddle formed under me—in which I now shivered.
“Wow,” Claire whispered, fixing her scarf.
The last beams of the sun flooded the room with light and the windows threw their colours onto our faces.
Usually, I would’ve avoided religious buildings of any kind, as they didn’t go well with witchcraft. Alternatives to the old religions had appeared as discontent with the peace-treaty grew. After they revealed their radical agendas, I avoided those cults alike. I’d never heard about encounters with Gods besides the common myths and stories. Magical abilities, which were said to stem from them, turned into a deformity as soon as the population became sceptical. Uraians despised everything with the slightest hint of magic. And even though they had to put their weapons down against the North, the Witch-hunt continued inside their own borders.
This time, the urge to follow the call of the wind pulled me in. Claire’s excited flapping of her arms was enough of a reward.
“Excuse me, Verra, why so red?” she chuckled.
“Is that so?” I asked, smirking. “What about you, blue?”
We broke out in laughter.
Harriet was right. Inside the chapel, it was beautiful.
After the rain stopped, we walked home and approached the door behind the night tower—the same one that I had used when I first arrived.
Claire opened the lock with a white key and showed it to me.
“My special entrance,” she said.
I scratched my wet head. “I walked through it,” I said, stuttering at every second word, “yesterday.”
“So I’ve heard. I must’ve forgotten to lock it.”
Her grinning face made her sound inauthentic, but it didn’t matter since she was able to do as she pleased anyway.
The clouds cleared up while we followed a little path downhill.
“Don’t you use a carriage?” I asked, and she scoffed in return.
“What? Because I’m rich?”
I've made a grave mistake.
To my surprise, she shook her head. “I mean, I don’t like the noise.”
From now on I had to be more careful around her.
“The air temple,” she said.
We reached the foot of the mountain. A tiny building of columns that let the breeze travel through appeared before us, and I realised why Tonio hadn’t specified the house.
Claire pointed at a mansion, the only one in sight of the temple. “Castle Di Centi.”
I swallowed down my nervousness, my throat stiffened. “I’ll bring you to the door.”
Roses welcomed us to the yard. Their number outgrew Claire’s description and seemed to never end. The neatly placed stones invited us in and I felt like royalty, stepping on them.
“Curly!” Tonio called when he noticed us. He was working on a piece of machinery that looked like a bike. Beside him crouched a dark-skinned boy, seemingly going through calculations. “Are you girls fine?”
Claire raised her brows and rolled her eyes.
“You are curly. I’m great.”
And indeed he was. His short cut allowed his hair to coil while Claire’s length weighed them down, leaving her with lavish waves.
“What about your girlfriend? What’s her name?”
She threw her arms around me. “Ve-rra. She’s a Mage just like you.” She pronounced my name correctly unlike Professor Rose. “We’ll drink a cup of tea, don’t annoy us.”
Tonio and I held eye contact, and his smile disappeared as soon as Claire turned around.
“Mage,” he mouthed and pinched his eyes as we slipped through the door, and I knew I was doomed.
The foyer was decorated with freshly cut flowers and paintings of faces that looked somewhat similar to one another. They all had olive skin and light hair.
Thankfully, the dim candlelight warmed me up a little. I was freezing when we approached the gigantic marble stairs. Until then, I couldn’t believe that someone stepped on them daily. Even less on the fine carpet that had been tailored accordingly.
Claire didn’t let go of my hand until we reached the dressing-room inside her bedroom. She called it a ‘closet’ and made me wonder if she ever knew what real closets looked like.
The amount of clothes was incredible. To fit them, they had to be squeezed together tightly.
She pulled out a black robe for me and made me change in front of a large mirror while she promised to get us some tea.
When I took off Harriet’s wet trousers, I dared to look at myself and regretted it immediately. Claire’s glow made me wish I was prettier, too, or at least well-fed. Thankfully, the robe was hiding most of my insecurities.
I left her clothing vault and plunged myself down on a wooden chair by the table.
Her room was as I expected it to be because it looked like she didn’t design it herself. The dark colour scheme contradicted her light personality. But I recognised a touch of her in the mess she left on the table and bed, like the pile of empty bottles underneath her nightstand.
Claire entered the room clapping her hands. A maid behind her brought the teapot and cups on a silver tray. After placing it on a table in the middle of the carpet, she bowed down and left.
“Tonio made that,” Claire said. “The chair, I mean.”
Just as she finished praising him, he appeared in the doorframe and smirked. “Do you like it?”
They both looked at me awaiting an answer, and I nodded. His demeanour reminded me of the interrogations I had been forced to endure.
“You’re scaring her.” Claire jumped up and shooed him away.
“Fine,” he said. “Leave the door open.”
She rolled her eyes and ended up closing it.
I didn’t expect to be served tea by the, I assumed, wealthiest person in town a day after arriving at the academy. She offered me various fruit teas, and I shuffled through them all, though I knew I would pick chamomile like I always did.
While she let it steep in a glass pot, she laid down on the carpet and put her legs on the bed. Her skirt followed gravity and collected itself on her pelvis, luring my attention towards her chunky lap.
Finally, I got over the fact that she had a say over my future and voiced my thoughts.
“Spirit,” I said, suppressing my laughter, “is that the secret to your potions? You need to cover the taste somehow if you want it to stay a secret.”
Her eyes widened when she pulled a box from under her layered bed. “Give me your hands,” she whispered.
The warmth of Claire’s thick fingers radiated through the g
loves. She placed rose petals in my palms, pushed them into the air and let them rain down on us. Inside the box laid a bottle of spirit.
“Spirit and petals of the flower known as thorny, mix them up and it leaves you…,” she sang and let me finish her dirty rhyme.
My ears flushed red.
“Did it work?”
“I lied about the lavender. If that’s what you wanted, yes.”
After she started picking up the petals, I found some of them trapped in her icy locks and helped pull them out. I admired the length of her hair, as I could never grow out mine and therefore kept the same hairstyle for a decade.
“You only caught me because you’re a Mage, that doesn’t count,” she said, and I laughed about her desperate attempt to make herself feel better.
She poured some spirit into our empty cups and pushed one to me.
“The berry was literally drenched in alcohol, you don’t have to get me sloshed now,” I declined, and she emptied both cups, squinching her face.
“Weakling,” I laughed at her, and she slapped me on the shoulder before she jumped up and danced around me—trying to provoke a playful fight.
I grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her to me, causing her to plunge down onto the carpet. Her thick stomach bounced and hindered her from getting up. After I climbed over her, I held her arms down until she declared herself defeated.
“Weakling,” I repeated, and we broke out in breathless laughter.
I brushed the hair out of her face and admired her flair.
“I like you,” she whispered and stroked my chin.
My ears burned, and all I did was stare at her lips, unable to move.
“It’s late.” She sat up. “I’ll pick a new outfit for you and tell Tonio to bring you home.”
She made me try different wrap-dresses before I chose a black one with lace and embroidered flowers.
Downstairs, Claire brought me a bowl full of strawberries and Tonio joined us, dressed in a high-collared coat.
“Those are safe to eat,” she said and awoke his interest.
“Were they all poisoned?”
Verra of Wolves Page 3