by Logan Jacobs
“Don’t play the fool,” she snapped. “That red one… let me see it.”
I sighed and handed her the advanced book of hexes and curses, and Morgana shot me an ‘I told you so look’ as the professor flipped through the pages.
“Were you planning on practicing these spells?” Vanessa asked in a calm voice.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Well,” she replied as she shut the book. “If you’re going to practice forbidden spells, you might as well learn about them properly… follow me, and bring your coven.”
She kept the book in her hands and glided over to the door, but when no one moved, she sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Well, come on, now,” she snapped, “let’s go into the dungeons and practice some ancient magic… I haven’t got all day.”
I grinned and turned to the others.
I had a feeling this was going to be one lesson we’d never forget.
Chapter 10
We followed Vanessa down a long spiral staircase we’d never seen before, and she walked with a sense of urgency as if she were afraid someone would spot us. Her heels clicked and echoed along the stone floor, and she continued to look around her as she guided us down a series of lower levels. There were older paintings plastered along these dark walls, and the floors were bare and dusty. There were no windows, and the only light that guided our way came from candle nubs placed on small sconces along the upper walls.
“Professor,” Morgana said after we had passed through a large, barred, arched wooden door. “Just out of curiosity… are you taking us to a forbidden part of the academy castle?”
“Technically yes,” Vanessa replied, “but since I’m with you, we’re not breaking any rules. I just think it’s safer to practice more… advanced spells with no one else around.”
She didn’t have to say it out loud, but I had a feeling she wanted us to keep this little lesson to ourselves. It was strange she would be willing to help us out like this, but I wasn’t about to question her about it. Vanessa would always have her own secret agenda, and no matter how much time we spent with her, I’d never been able to see through her or her motives. She was a mysterious woman, but that was a part of her intrigue.
“It always amazes me how many levels are in this castle,” Vesta said in a low but excited voice.
Once we passed through the doorway, we came to another level of stairs. It was pitch black, and Vanessa lit the way for us as we crept down the stone stairwell. I noticed the deeper we ventured, the danker the air became. Not only was it growing colder and damper, but it was beginning to smell foul. The stench was rank, putrid, and sour, and it was so overpowering it was almost difficult to breathe.
“Professor,” Vesta mumbled as she pinched her nose. “What is that horrid smell?”
“It’s the stench of mortals,” Vanessa answered. “We keep them locked down here and away from the students because we’ve been running on short supply lately… and students used to break in and conduct their own experiments.”
“Evanora mentioned that before,” Morgana whispered in excitement.
“Who cares?” Akira muttered. “Satan, it smells like troll shit.”
“Well, you’re going to have to get used to it,” Vanessa snapped without turning around to face us. “Do you or do you not want to learn about those advanced hexes and curses?”
“That’s what I thought,” she growled after we shook our heads, and then she continued to lead us down the stairs.
We finally reached the last step, and as I looked around, it was clear we were in a dungeon. The walls were bleak and bare, and when I looked closer, I could make out brown stains along the cracked stone. I didn’t even want to think about whether or not it was blood or shit, so I glanced to my right and saw a series of prison cells along the wall. As we neared the cells, a sea of murmurs filled the air, and hands began to emerge from behind the bars. I saw dirty and broken fingernails along the floor, and whoever was down here began to wail and whimper as we neared them.
“Help!” several voices croaked in unison. “Please, oh, please! Help us!”
“Wow,” Akira breathed, and she was clearly impressed. “Just how many prisoners are down here, Professor?”
“A hundred and three,” Vanessa answered with a proud smile. “We keep them under a starvation spell.”
“A starvation spell?” I repeated.
“It essentially keeps them in starvation mode for as long as the person who wields the spell wishes,” Morgana muttered. “They can live a lifetime without any food or drink.”
“Satan,” I breathed.
“Huh,” Faye muttered. “That’s low maintenance. Quite useful.”
“Illuminana,” Vanessa recited a moment later.
All the sconces and candelabras lit up at once, and now I could see every prisoner clearly. They were a pathetic looking sight, and I quickly noticed they were all men. They ranged from all ages, and they all wore grime-covered loin cloths and had rusty chains shackled along their wrists and ankles. They continued to croak and groan when they saw us, and their eyes were all yellow, blood-shot, and crusty along the edges. They were begging us to release them, but the more they pleaded, the wider Vanessa smiled.
“Do they ever sleep?” I asked out of curiosity.
“Once a month,” Vanessa replied with her chin raised, “and we ensure they have the most awful nightmares imaginable when they do.”
“Awesome,” Akira sighed.
“Now,” Vanessa said as she swung her skirts to look at us, “the first thing we will do is cover the basic defense curses and hexes you will find in that precious book of yours. Who can tell me what defense curses were used in the first dawn of the Wicca?”
She turned to look at Morgana, and the brunette blushed.
“Go on, Morgana,” Vanessa laughed. “Fire away.”
“Plaga curses… ” Morgana replied, although for once, she sounded unsure of herself. “I believe.”
“Hmm… that’s half-correct.” Vanessa nodded. “They were called languorem curses back then, but the concept is the same as a plaga curse. They are a series of curses that cause immense pain and suffering in the form of ancient diseases. They will not kill your attacker, but they will cause them serious harm and prevent them from attacking you any further. You can use them on beasts and humans, but back then, during the Elder Wars, they were mostly used on mixta genus.”
“What’s a mixta genus?” I asked.
“They are half-breeds,” Vanessa responded. “They were cultivated by the elder gods, and they are a mix between humans and elder magic.”
“They’re known to be beautifully hideous creatures,” Morgana added. “Their skin is the darkest color of red, and their eyes are as bright as fire. They can suck the life right out of you if they get close enough to you, or rip your limbs right out of their sockets with just one pull… and they have been known to be used as obstacles during the Ludi Mortiferum.”
“Which is why the Wicca conjured up languorem curses,” Vanessa explained. “It is one of the only ways to stop a half-breed from attacking you. You can use other spells, of course, but none of them will harm a half-breed as much as a disease hex or curse.”
As she spoke, she pulled out her wand from her sleeve and aimed it at one of the prison cells. Then she muttered a spell, and the lock clicked open. As the bars slowly pulled open, the prisoner trembled in place and didn’t dare move an inch. He could have made a run for it, but he knew that would have been a deadly foolish thing to do.
“W-What… what do you want from me?” he whimpered. “I have nothing to give you.”
“Now, that’s not true,” Vanessa cooed. “Come on out before I make you.”
“Please… don’t make me,” he wailed. “I beg you… I’ll do whatever you want.”
Vanessa rolled her pale blue eyes and then aimed her wand at the bony prisoner.
“Fructum!” she said.
His body jerked, and his eyes widened a
s Vanessa’s spell dragged him forward. He was a pale, pallid looking man, and judging by his gray hair and wrinkled eyes, there was no doubt he was middle-aged. He had a swollen belly and bony legs that trembled as he stood before the merciless professor, and he covered his head in terror.
“No, please, please, please,” he cried out. “I’ll do whatever you want! Forgive me!”
“Too late for that,” Vanessa growled.
The professor continued to use her power to drag him forward, and he put up such a fight against the spell that a trail of blood from his broken toenails trailed behind him as he was yanked forward. By the time he was in front of the professor, he was sobbing wildly, and the only thing keeping him standing upright was Vanessa’s magic.
“Stop your bawling,” Vanessa ordered. “Or I’ll make you.”
“No!” he shouted. “Please, I can be useful! I’m a gifted blacksmith, and I--”
“How would you feel about stitches along your mouth?” Vanessa asked with a faux-sweet smile.
“No, please!” he whimpered.
He was sobbing beyond control now, and it was a pitiful and pathetic sight.
I shook my head as he blubbered and wailed like a child.
“Look, I gave you a fair warning,” Vanessa sighed. “But enough is enough. I have a lesson to teach.”
She flicked her wand, and thick, barbed black stitches began to sew the man’s mouth shut. His eyes bulged as he struggled to speak through the confinements, but it was useless. He simply trembled under the dim light without uttering another word, and Vanessa never broke eye contact with him. I could tell she loathed this man in particular. I could feel her hard hatred and resentment against him, and I briefly wondered why.
What did he do to earn such contempt from her?
“Did you know this man has been alive for fifty years in the dungeon?” she suddenly asked in a matter of fact tone, and it was as if she read my thoughts. “He was brought here because he burned fifteen witches at the stake. Isn’t that right, mortal scum?”
The man’s eyes widened to the size of plates as he violently shook his head.
“Do you deny it?” she shrieked.
Plump tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to furiously shake his head. There was no point denying anything, though. We all knew he was wasting his time, and we also knew Vanessa was going to enjoy torturing him. Right now, all she was doing was toying with him, and she reminded me of a feral wolf tormenting a lame lamb.
“Now, observe carefully.” Vanessa grinned as she looked at each of us, and then she flicked her wand three times and stared right into her victim’s eyes. “Spina adtremo.”
At once, the man’s back started to hunch over and crack. He tried to cry out in pain, but it was impossible with the thick wires that ran through his mouth, so silent tears spilled out from his eyes as his spine continued to bend and break. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the dungeon, and it caused other prisoners to cry out in fear. By the time the spell was complete, the man was totally hunched over and silently sobbing, and when he looked up at Vanessa, he appeared as if he’d lost his mind.
I couldn’t read the expression behind his wretched eyes, though. It was if the pain had rendered him devoid of emotion.
“As you can see.” Vanessa smiled. “The spell completely destroys the spine and makes it impossible for your opponent or attacker to hunt you down. There is only one problem with this particular hex.”
“Of course, there is,” Akira grumbled.
“You have to make sure your opponent is weak-minded,” Morgana blurted out. “Isn’t that right, Professor?”
“That is correct,” Vanessa said. “Cole, would you hand me the book, please?”
I strolled over to her, and my fingers brushed against her ice-cold skin as I passed her the textbook. She flashed me a strange look before she opened the textbook and furiously flipped through the pages. When she was near the end of the book, she traced a finger along the page as she quietly muttered to herself.
“Ah, here we are.” She grinned. “Let’s all try one spell from this list and see how we do? Morgana, why don’t you come up here first?”
Morgana swallowed hard but did as she was told, and I watched as the nervous brunette stood next to Vanessa and aimed her wand at the hunchback prisoner.
“Oh, no,” Vanessa laughed. “Let’s start with something fresh.”
Vanessa raised her hand and sent the man flying back into his cell with a loud crash. His door swung closed and locked itself, and he didn’t make another sound.
“Are you ready?” Vanessa asked the nervous bookworm.
“Y-Yes,” Morgana stammered.
The brunette was obviously desperate to try and impress the professor, and we all knew that’s why she was more nervous than usual.
“Now, the first thing I want you to do is pick one of the plaga curses from this page,” Vanessa instructed. “Don’t be shy… pick whichever one your heart desires.”
“I thought you said they weren’t called plaga--” Morgana started until Vanessa interrupted her.
“We’ll just call them that for now,” she snapped. “Pick one.”
Morgana nodded nervously before she took the book from the professor’s small and dainty hands. The curly-haired brunette studied the page and then looked back to the older witch with hesitation in her blue eyes.
“Did you find one you fancy?” Vanessa asked.
“Um, yes,” Morgana gulped. “I think I’m ready.”
“Well, alright then,” Vanessa replied. “Give it a go.”
The beautiful professor unlocked another cell, and using her magic, she violently yanked out the next prisoner. This man appeared to be a few years younger than the previous one. He had thick, greasy brown hair and a lean build, even though he was technically being starved to death, so perhaps he was a newer addition.
“Please,” he panted as soon as he was in front of the long-haired brunettes. “Don’t, I beg you--”
Vanessa flicked her wand, and his mouth sewed shut.
“There.” She smiled sweetly at Morgana. “Go on… do whatever you please.”
Morgana glanced down at the book and swallowed hard before she brought her eyes back to her victim. Then she raised a wavering hand and took in a deep breath to steady herself. The man looked at her with wide eyes before she parted her rosy lips and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Pustulis correptus!” she yelled with as much confidence as she could muster.
The man’s eyes went as wide as saucers when a pink bolt of light hit him square in the chest, and then his face contorted into a grimace as small, red bumps began to form all over his entire body. They covered him from head to toe, and he was obviously desperate to try and scratch at his skin, but the chains prevented him from even coming close. He wriggled and squirmed as the spots continued to spread all over him, and then he fell to the ground and started to rub his skin against the stone floor. Blood smeared along the gray, dirty stones as he broke open his skin along the jagged ground, and he quietly whimpered from the ache as tears spilled out from his eyes.
“Pathetic,” Vanessa whispered, but she turned to look at Morgana and grinned. “Well done, Miss Morgana.”
Vanessa then pointed her wand at the prisoner and sent him soaring back into his cell. The other captives all began to shout slurs, curses, and pleas at Vanessa, and her perfect face darkened under the firelight.
“Unless you all want to be silenced with barbed wire running through your vile lips, I’d suggest you keep quiet,” she ordered.
All the protests died down at once, and she smiled in satisfaction.
“Alright.” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s do this, shall we? Everyone, aside from you, Morgana, go on and pick a prisoner. Don’t be shy.”
We all took a step forward and lined up in a row in front of the cells, and I ended up in front of a gaunt man with thinning black hair, red-rimmed eyes, and chattering yellow teeth. He didn�
��t dare utter a word of protest, though, because he knew precisely what Vanessa would do to him if he said anything at all.
“Akira, you may go next,” Vanessa said. “Be sure to concentrate on your host and recite the spell correctly… do not mispronounce any words.”
The short-haired witch took the book from Morgana, and her dark eyes darted over the text. I knew she would probably choose the most gruesome spell she could find, and when her eyes landed on the next page, her face lit up, and she broke out into a smile.
“Whenever you’re ready, Akira,” Vanessa said.
Akira cleared her throat, threw back her shoulders, and continued to smile at her victim with her wand raised and aimed right in between his green, red-rimmed eyes.
“Pulmones sanguine repleti!” she cried out.
The blond man made a gurgling sound as a cobalt blue light struck him in the chest. He heaved and hurled, but there was no vomit coming out of his mouth, and I was confused by the effects of the spell until I caught blood dripping from the corners of his lips. He was having trouble breathing, and every time he coughed, dark blood spurted out from between his broken teeth.
“Oh, that’s a lovely one,” Vanessa purred. “Blood-filled lungs… well done, Akira.”
The black-eyed witch grinned as Vanessa magically shoved the gagging prisoner back into his cell.
The next man in line was a gaunt, bald-headed man with large brown eyes, and he was staring at Faye and muttering something under his breath.
“Go on, Faye,” Vanessa urged. “Take the book.”
The redhead slowly took the book from Akira and quickly skimmed the pages. She finally decided on a spell, and with her free hand, she raised her hand and pointed her wand at the bald captive.
“Siccabitur!” she shouted.
The already deadly thin man began to shrivel and cower forward. His bones looked as if they were shaking inside his body, and his skin grew paper-thin, to the point where we could see his organs, bones, and muscles. The man was becoming thinner and thinner before our eyes, and by the time the spell was complete, I was surprised he was still alive, since he looked like nothing but a skeleton as he wobbled in front of Faye.