Term One

by K M Charron

  Syd stood outside the Nest library, unsure of what she’d find inside. She pushed the heavy doors open and stepped forward. They closed behind her and a rush of cold air hit her, sending shivers across her body.

  She’d expected an interrogation, to see all the Master witches ready to question her about the events of the past few days, the past few weeks even. But her mother sat at her desk alone. This was worse. There would be no witnesses.

  Her friends were all questioned by the Elders, and per her insistence, they’d all pleaded ignorance. It was the only way. Taking the blame was the least she could do since it was essentially her fault—hers and Ainsley’s. If the middling had left it alone, as Sydney had insisted, none of this would be happening. Langston would be okay instead of locking himself away, ignoring everyone. She pushed her anger down, not wanting to try explaining that to her mother too. She didn’t need her reverting to her old ways of poking around inside Syd’s thoughts.

  Sydney’s mother clasped her hands atop the desk. Her dark crimson nails looked more like dried blood than polish. Who knew, maybe it was.

  Her mother wasted no time on niceties. “Who else was involved in the discovery of the room in the forest?”

  “No one.”

  “You lie.”

  Sydney forced her mind to swirl, a proven way to ensure her mother wouldn’t be able to decipher her private thoughts. Her mother couldn’t discover that Ainsley had been there—that a middling knew all the things that Ainsley knew. About magic. About them.

  “I’m not lying.”

  A fierce jolt of fire spread inside her head. She doubled, her hands flying to her temples. No. She would not succumb. With all her strength, she pushed her mother out.

  “You’re getting stronger,” her mother spat and finally let go.

  Relief spread through Sydney’s body, the dull ache behind her eyes a welcome change from the stabbing pain. “No one else knows, Mother. I found it that day I went riding.”

  “The day you fell into a hole with a middling. You’re trying to tell me that the middling didn’t notice the door. That you didn’t open it and go inside with her.” Her mother stood and crept around the desk toward Sydney.

  “I think the door was shrouded against middlings, but once I saw the door, I did an additional shrouding spell just to make sure the middling didn’t see it. Coach came and pulled us out.” She prayed her mother wouldn’t detect her lies. “I went back the next day to see what it was. That’s when I opened it.”

  Her mother moved closer, staring with an intensity that sent shivers into Sydney. “Why are you keeping me out if you have nothing to hide?”

  Sydney’s throat constricted, her skin suddenly hot and prickling with sweat, despite the chill in the air. “I don’t like relegating control of my mind. Do you?” she snapped, praying it would be enough. If her mother tried again, she didn’t know if she would be strong enough to keep her out. “Please believe me. No one else knew about it.”

  Her mother’s fingernail gently traced Sydney’s cheek, trailing down her chin. “I will believe what I see. Now you can allow me in, or I’ll find another way to catch your lies.”

  Her mother always kept her promises.

  “Mother, it doesn’t have to be this way. You would never do this to Gerald.”

  “I would never have to.”

  Sydney dropped her arms to her sides, waiting for the burning sensation. She steeled herself, drawing upon every ounce of power she had to replace her true memory with another. She concentrated on building her lie into the picture she wanted in her head while her mother’s magic explored her mind.

  Her mother released her mental hold on Sydney. Their eyes met.

  Sydney suppressed the urge to inhale a sharp breath, remaining instead as steady as she physically could manage.

  “Seems you’re telling the truth for once.” Her mother turned on her heel in a swift motion, her champagne-colored dress a whirl under the golden lights. “You told Máthair Bello you believed the entity to be a shapeshifter. How did you learn this?”

  There was no way she could tell her mother about Saskia. She’d want proof of how Syd had garnered such information, which meant endangering Oswald. She refused to do that. She wouldn’t expose him after everything he’d risked helping her. “I don’t know for certain. A fog left the room when I opened the door, and Jeremy said that something resembling a middling named Kai suddenly dropped its form and attacked them as a mist. I’m assuming that whatever it is can take different appearances because I saw two versions of another student named Max in the gym on Samhain.”

  Her mother seemed to consider this. “So, you don’t actually know what entity we’re dealing with?”

  “No.” She noticed a strange look of relief on her mother’s face. It was slight, but there. Odd. Her instincts lit up in warning, although she couldn’t pin down why. Her mother knew something and was not about to share it with Sydney.

  “I want to help in any way I can. Tell me what I can do,” Syd said.

  Her mother steepled her fingers. “I think you’ve done enough.”

  “What about Cassidy? Is she okay? Did the Elders Persuade the middlings that saw her—”

  “The girl will be fine, and of course, we have taken care of it. We were able to manage the situation largely because Justin called for help. He understood the situation was out of his element.” The implication in her tone was obvious: Sydney hadn’t gone for help, and therefore, everything that had happened since was her fault.

  Her mother wasn’t wrong.

  “You and all the other apprentices will refrain from having anything to do with the shifter entity and remain in the dorms when instructed to do so. These restrictions are for your own safety. I am investigating the matter. It’s none of your concern from this point on.”

  “Please, let me prove—”

  “You are a child, and this is an adult matter. I don’t want you getting hurt. You will do as I say, for your own protection. And if you don’t want to obey your mother, then you will obey your High Priestess. Is that clear?” Her voice was sharp steel. Sydney wished her mother’s words had even an ounce of warmth to them, then she might believed them.

  “I understand.” She would give her mother a couple of weeks to make good on her promises. After that, all bets were off.

  Ainsley

  December 9

  The weekend and Monday passed, and Ainsley hadn't heard a word from Justin or the others. Were they avoiding her? Ainsley didn’t know Langston well, but she couldn’t stop wondering how he was holding up. He hadn’t been in History yesterday morning, not that she expected him to be. Ainsley might not be a witch, but she could imagine how devastating something like this must be. Was that the reason everyone was MIA? Well, that and Cassidy Jerome’s possession.

  Ainsley walked into the still empty classroom. Professor Winslow sat at his desk, working on his laptop.

  Butterflies raged a war inside Ainsley’s stomach as she took him in. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since their weird encounter on campus Friday night. Gooseflesh popped across her arms as she recalled the way his eyes changed and their odd exchange of asking each other, ‘what are you?’ She knew it hadn’t been Winslow, but the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave her until she spoke to him again.

  More students entered the classroom, chatting and laughing. There were tons of witnesses now. Her heart thrummed low in her ears, a steady drumbeat reminding her that her adrenaline level was at the brink. Fighting the urge to hide in the back of the room or turn around and leave, Ainsley took a calming breath and headed straight for Professor Winslow. As soon as she did, he stopped what he was doing to address her.

  “Ms. Davenport, is there something you need?” His eyebrows knitted together, which complemented his slack mouth. He was obviously not pleased about being interrupted before class. “Well, on with it,” he said with a wave of his hand, his bare hand.

  “Uh, I was just wondering how your walk was the
other night?” She sounded like an imbecile. She added a wide smile in the hope that he’d think she was just trying to be friendly.

  “I beg your pardon, Ms. Davenport?” He leaned back in his chair and gazed up at her, a quizzical expression on his face.

  Heat filled her cheeks, radiating down her neck. “Your walk. Didn’t I see you walking Friday evening on the west campus?” She gazed at him with narrowed eyes, trying to gauge if anything was off about him.

  Winslow sat forward in his chair, his protruding belly at the edge of his desk. “You have me mistaken with someone else. I was in my office grading tests the entirety of Friday evening.” He didn’t break eye contact. “Now, if you’ll please find your seat, I have a class to teach.” He did everything but shoo her away.

  Ainsley grew lightheaded. He was telling the truth; she could see it in his eyes. His eyes. His normal, blue eyes. There were no yellow or amber or oddly shaped irises. She realized she was leaning forward, gawking at him.

  “Ms. Davenport, are you all right?”

  Nodding vigorously, she turned and found a seat in the front row.

  Her phone vibrated with text after text, and she carefully pulled out her cell, hiding it behind her stacked books to read each one. Hopefully, Winslow would be too engrossed in his lecture to notice it. He had a reputation for swiping cell phones from students who used them during class time. Jax and Ava were messaging her. She was surprised to see them across the classroom, even more surprised they were checking in with her. Sydney sat between them, seemingly disinterested in anything that wasn't on her phone.

  When Professor Winslow turned his back again, she sent a group message.

  It wasn’t Winslow I saw the other night walking on campus. I’m sure now.

  She shoved the cell under her notebook, just before Winslow turned back around, his gaze locked on her desktop. Her heart wouldn’t ease up, nor did her light-headedness. Why had the shifter come so close to her and let her go? Did it know she wasn’t a witch? The image of it hiding in Winslow’s body, its tilted head watching her as it wondered what she was, sent shivers down her spine.

  Her desk vibrated again, the reverberation echoing loudly enough that all she could do was close her eyes and pray that Winslow hadn’t heard it. She had to get out of there.

  Ainsley raised her hand.

  “Yes, Ms. Davenport.”

  “I’m not feeling well, Professor. May I go to the infirmary?”

  He motioned for her to leave, and she wasted no time collecting her things and rushing out the door. She’d only made it to the end of the hallway when she heard Sydney call her name.

  Her stomach dropped. The last thing she needed was a fight. She already knew Sydney wouldn’t believe anything she had to say. Ignoring her seemed the best course of action.

  The footsteps grew louder, and then Sydney was beside her. “When I call you, you answer.”

  That's it.

  Ainsley whirled around, fire in her veins. “Listen, I’ve had as much bullshit from you as I’m going to take. You've tried to kill me, and I’m still trying to help you and your friends out,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Yeah, well, your good Samaritan act is a whole other discussion I plan on having with you, just not today. And keep your voice down,” Sydney demanded.

  “Why, you’ll just magically Persuade anyone who hears me to forget it anyway. Isn’t that what you do? Manipulate everyone and everything to suit your wishes, and pout and lash out when you don’t get your way? Poor Sydney. Newsflash, not everything is about you. I don’t owe you a damn thing.” Before Sydney could pick her jaw up off the floor, Ainsley stormed off down the hallway.

  She remembered the last time she’d walked away from this witch—the electric, pulsating pain that flung her to the ground. She braced herself.

  “Please, there’s something you need to know.”

  Ainsley stopped. Had Sydney just said, please? She turned back around, arms crossed. “What?”

  Sydney closed the distance and leaned in. “My mother, the whole coven, knows about everything—the room, the shifter, and the attack on Langston and Jake, but I kept you out of it. If I hadn’t, you’d probably be dead right now.” She crossed her arms tightly across her chest now too, her mouth a tight line.

  Ainsley’s gut dropped like she was in a rollercoaster’s loop. “The only reason you didn’t say anything is because you knew Justin would never forgive you.”

  Sydney gave a haughty laugh. “So arrogant. Do you really think he cares about you? You’re a middling. He’s a powerful witch. He might slum it for a bit, but you’ll never be enough for him.”

  A pang filled Ainsley’s chest. Sydney was probably right, and it devastated her. “Did you follow me out here just to tell me that? Because, if so, you can go fuck yourself.”

  “No,” Sydney took a breath and appeared to be gathering herself. “I just came out to talk, but you seem to bring out the worst in me.”

  Ainsley shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

  Sydney glanced around, making sure they were still alone. “The Elders are supposed to be dealing with the shifter now, but it’s still out there, so we need to be careful.”

  “You didn’t follow me out here because you’re worried about my well-being,” Ainsley stated without emotion. What the hell was Sydney playing at?

  “No, but the shifter knows something is different about you. It may try and find you again. If it does, you need to call me, find me, whatever. I need to know.”

  Ainsley’s equilibrium took a drastic dive. “You think it will search me out?”

  “It might. It seemed intrigued by you, didn’t it?”

  She managed a nod. “I think so.” Her thoughts went back to what Sydney had said about the Elders taking care of it. “Does the coven have a plan to find it?” she whispered. They were alone in the hall, but better safe than sorry.

  Shaking her head, Sydney said, “None of the Elders will say what their plan is, but I have a back up just in case. I found out the identity of the original witch that bound the shifter inside the room. But I need the photos you took on your phone.”

  Ah, finally, the real reason Sydney followed her out of class. Ainsley nodded and pulled her cell from her blazer pocket.

  Sydney continued, “I was thinking about what you said, about the shifter touching to change forms. It makes sense. The original witch I was telling you about,” she paused, making sure Ainsley was following, “apparently the shifter grabbed her and changed from a man’s form into her image in front of the whole village.”

  Ainsley bit her lip in thought as the pieces began to come together. “So as long as it doesn’t have skin to skin contact, it can keep its current form.” Ainsley opened her photos and began scrolling. Her chest felt like an angry bee was trying to escape inside of it. She swiped back and forth, panic rising inside her. “I-I don’t understand.”

  “What do you mean? What’s wrong?” Sydney plucked the phone from Ainsley. There wasn’t a single photo from the room or door on Ainsley’s phone. As far as anyone could see, she’d never set foot inside either of them.

  Sydney’s face paled as she shoved the phone back into Ainsley’s palm. “The carvings and symbols are gone from the room too. I went there, and it’s all blank. I was going to use the pictures to try and recreate it.” She took a deep breath, her hands running through her hair. “This thing is making sure we can’t lock it away again. I don’t know how it’s two steps ahead of us, but it’s a hell of a lot smarter than I gave it credit for.”

  “There’s got to be another way,” Ainsley said.

  “Says the middling who knows nothing.” Sydney stepped too close. “I thought you would be a help for once.” She slammed her fist into her thigh. “I’d get the pictures from you, figure out a way to conjure Saskia’s spirit, and get the accompanying spells I need to get us out of this mess from her.” She straightened and stepped back, shaking her head. It was clear she’d said more than she wan
ted to, which was anything at all. She made no bones about not wanting to include Ainsley in witch business.

  Conjuring Saskia’s spirit? The image of them squatting around an old ouija board came to mind. It would, no doubt, be more complicated than that. “Let me do some research,” Ainsley said. “Maybe I can find a way to retrieve them.” This was dangerous. She should walk away, but she couldn’t. Not when she’d insisted on opening that door in the first place. Not after Langston, Jake, and Cassidy.

  Sydney laughed. “As if you’ll be able to save the day. If it weren’t for you, none of this would be happening.”

  Ainsley felt the sting of Sydney’s remark. It was true.

  Sydney pointed a finger in Ainsley’s face. “All you need to do is keep your mouth shut. I don’t make idle threats. If anyone else in the coven finds out you know anything, you’ll be dead.” Sydney didn’t wait for a response before turning around and heading back toward the classroom.

  A chill rippled through Ainsley. She’s exaggerating. But her gut told her differently.

  Was that what was happening around here? People who learned too much or got in the way, were killed? Maybe they just disappeared? “Is that what happened to you, Daphne?” she whispered.

  It didn’t make sense. The coven could Persuade people—replace their memories. They had the magic to do anything they wanted. Why would they risk doing something as drastic as kidnap and murder?

  Ainsley tried to shake off the exchange while she walked to the library. She froze, realizing she still hadn’t returned the book she’d snuck out with Justin. It wasn’t like she could blame another student. There was a good chance only she and Hugo even knew it existed.

  Maybe Hugo hadn’t noticed. Would he even check up on a book like that?

  The library was moderately busy with students preparing for finals. Wasting no time, Ainsley rushed to the aisle that housed the occult books. She crouched and pulled the remaining leather-bound book out. Attached to the cover was a handwritten note addressed to her. It was from Hugo, asking her to come to the front desk. Her insides fizzed like pop rocks in a bottle of Coke. He knew she’d stolen the book.