Term One

by K M Charron

  Ainsley snatched the note from the cover and clasped the book tightly, before making her way to the front desk. Another librarian stood behind the counter—a round woman in her mid-fifties who always wore floral dresses and gaudy beaded jewelry in bright colors. Today’s was a garish sunflower print, complete with a yellow plastic necklace and matching earrings.

  Ainsley approached tentatively, “Excuse me, is Hugo working today?”

  The woman took her in and beamed. Her lips could glow in the dark with that shade of pink. “I’m afraid he’s off today. Can I help you, darling?” Her southern twang was similar to Harper’s, and Ainsley realized she’d never heard the woman speak before.

  She took a guess. “I think he might’ve put a book aside for me.” She gawked at the hold shelves to see if anything stood out. “Ainsley Davenport.” Perhaps he just wanted to yell at her in person.

  “Let me check.” The woman began rummaging through a few shelves. “I think I’ve got something.” She sounded as excited as if she were reeling in a large fish after a long day with no bites. “Yup, I do. Here you go, Ms. Daven—” She stopped mid-sentence after looking at the cover of the book in her hand. “Now, why would you want to read such an awful book?” Her voice was full of ripe judgment—her sour expression matching.

  Ainsley’s cheeks burned. “What kind of book is it?” What had Hugo left for her? Was this punishment for taking the other one? He’d trusted her. Her stomach dropped.

  The woman leaned across the counter and looked conspiratorially from side to side. Looking Ainsley up and down, she whispered, “It’s a… devil-worship book.”

  Ainsley’s eyes widened. The flush moved from her cheeks down her neck; she was sure she was beginning to blotch.

  “Why would you want such a book?” The woman’s tone was so accusatory, Ainsley wondered if the woman was about to pull out a cross and a spritzer bottle of holy water.

  “It’s for a project—a history project. I’m not, you know, into that stuff or anything.” She hoped she sounded sincere enough.

  The woman’s eyebrows smoothed, and the small lines around her nose and mouth softened. “Well, that’s a relief.” She placed the book on the countertop. “It looks absolutely ancient. It’s flagged, which means it must remain in the library, no checking it out. Understand?”

  Ainsley nodded and quickly grabbed the book before she could get sucked into a discussion about church attendance and the librarian’s willingness to pray for Ainsley’s damned soul.

  Thank you, Hugo.

  With cracked bindings and a worn cover, the volume did appear ancient.

  Making her way to a back table, she sat down and began going through it from front to back. There was no copyright page or even typed print. It looked like many hands had written the manuscript, in multiple languages, over centuries. Was this an authentic grimoire? Her excitement quickly waned. How was she ever going to decipher it?

  A loose sheet of pink paper fell out. Ainsley read the handwritten note.

  The book I showed you is missing. I hope to see it back here by the end of the week. If not, I have to report the loss and the last student who requested it. Fair warning, my little rebel.

  Hugo

  Her heart leaped in her chest. He knew, hadn’t turned her in, and had even given her another book to work with. She’d better get started; she was now on a deadline.

  Examining the fragile tome, she recognized the symbol on the embossed cover as Hecate’s Wheel. It represented the three parts of the goddess––the maiden, the mother, and the crone. Hecate was a Greek goddess said to derive power from the moon, water, and air. She mastered the crossroads––the space between the realm of the living and the dead. She was also the first necromancer, or so the lore said. Interesting coincidence.

  Ainsley carefully turned the delicate pages, noticing a few additional notes written in English around the script and in the margins. Many pages had sketches. Maybe it would be enough for her to get a rough interpretation. And she could always ask Justin or Khourtney for help if needed. They were safest bet from the group.

  How did Hugo know to save this for her? This book went well beyond her ruse of researching for a project. Maybe he knew more about Ashcroft than he’d let on. It made sense. Perhaps she had an ally after all.

  From what she could gather with her translating app, the grimoire had all kinds of spells—from protection to some very dark stuff: paralysis, health-based curses, various types of poison, and even a spell to make someone go crazy. Ainsley thought of Emmie. So that kind of magic was possible. Ainsley was sure now that Sydney and Ava had done some sort of spell on Emmie.

  Thank God, I’m immune. Ainsley could only imagine what would have happened to her by now if she wasn’t. While Ainsley knew she had to work with Sydney until they stopped the shifter, she didn’t know if she'd ever fully forgive the witch for everything she’d put Ainsley through. Sydney could have, perhaps would have, killed her that night on campus after the dance.

  She clutched the book tighter when she saw a few pages toward the back, written completely in English. It was an incantation about necromancy, specifically, a spell to summon the dead. She dropped the book and gripped the edge of the table as her head swayed.

  Images of dead people rising from the ground appeared in her mind.

  No, that’s impossible. This could only mean contacting the dead, as in speaking to, not bring them back to life, right? That had to be what Sydney meant when she said she was trying to find a way to conjure Saskia.

  She read on, and with each word, hope grew. They might actually be able to do this.

  Leaping up, she shoved both books into her bag. She was already on the line for one, why not three?

  Rules be damned.

  Sydney

  The Elders had ordered all apprentices to meet in the Nest every day after Ashcroft classes for a headcount. It had been weeks since Langston and Jake had lost their powers, but Langston still only allowed Sydney to visit him, and she watched helplessly as he succumbed to bouts of sobbing, screaming, and occasional wall punching.

  He was too ashamed to face their friends, not to mention the rest of the coven, worried he no longer fit in. He didn’t believe he deserved to be part of the coven anymore. Sydney had stood in Máthair Bello’s office as his aunt fought with him about returning. She insisted Langston get back to his training commitments since she was determined to restore their magic. She’d even used Jake against Langston, noting that he was determined to keep going with his studies, instead of wallowing in self-pity.

  Wallowing, Sydney thought. Really? It might be one tactic to get Langston motivated, but in her opinion, it was a piss poor one. In the end, the only reason Langston agreed to come to classes was because his aunt had thrown his dead father in his face—saying his father was watching him from Terra Mortuis (Latin for Land of the Dead). Langston’s head had hung in shame, his shoulders curling forward like it took all his strength to sit upright. Sydney half expected him to crumple at any moment.

  But Máthair Bello had gotten her way. Tonight, Langston would join Jake and the other apprentices. He sat with Syd and their friends at the back of the classroom, waiting for the rest of the apprentices to join tonight’s lesson.

  Jasmine Singh, one of the High magic Lords and a complete bitch, approached them. Her family had been friends with the Bello’s for a century. This didn’t seem to comfort Langston, who tensed visibly as she came closer. Ignoring the rules against physical affection in the Nest, Sydney put her hand on his lower back. It was hot and damp to her touch.

  “Hi, Langston,” Jasmine said in a faltering tone. “I’m assisting with tonight’s lesson and just wanted to come over and see if you were okay. I mean, I know things aren’t great, but I wanted you to know that the other Lords and I are here to help you in any way.” She gave a drawn smile. “I can only imagine what you must be going through, but—” She stopped, seemingly unsure if she was making it worse or succeeding in comfor
ting him.

  Sydney could tell it was the former. “Uh, thanks, Jasmine, but we’ve got it. You can go now.” Syd replayed all the times Jasmine had been rude to her, and she had no time for her now, especially if it included Langston.

  Langston continued to brood, barely glancing up from his hands, which he kept on his lap as he picked at his cuticles.

  “We’re all glad you’re here,” Jasmine said finally, forcing an even bigger smile. When he remained quiet, she walked away.

  “What a hag,” Jax snorted, “I cannot believe she waltzed over here like she had some duty or whatever.”

  Langston, leaned in, his breath tickling Sydney’s ear. “I’m out of here. I can’t do this. Everyone else is just going to stare at me like I’m a freak.” She could hear the grit and anger in his voice

  Syd kept her hand on his back. “These are your friends. Everyone wants to make sure you’re okay. You’re a part of the Wildes, and you need to be here. As much as I can’t stand her, I think Jasmine was sincere.”

  He snorted in derision. “We both know there’s no way in hell you’d be here if your powers were gone. And I think I speak for Jake when I say, we’re nowhere near okay.”

  A flitter of cool-air brushed the side of Sydney’s face when he pulled away. She steeled herself, knowing she’d have to be strong for him.

  Sydney didn’t want to think about what came next for the two of them. What would happen if he never got his magic back? Would he be considered a middling? Would the Wildes Persuade him to forget everything about them? About her and their relationship?

  He wouldn’t be the same person without magic, though. How could she stay with him? Shame flushed her skin. Sydney berated herself. She was the reason he didn’t have his magic; she couldn’t abandon him. She wouldn’t.

  The doors opened, and the remainder of the apprentices trailed in, chattering and laughing, but they quieted as they registered Langston and Jake. Each pair of eyes seemed to land on the two boys. Some looked away quickly as if to prevent their shock and embarrassment from being seen as gawking. Others offered a smile or a slight nod of the head.

  Corey Brighten, an Elemental apprentice with Justin, gave Langston a nod. Langston nodded back.

  “See,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “People are treating you the way they always have.”

  “One head nod from Corey is not everyone and always, but I love you for lying.”

  Sydney’s heart ached. Reaching next to her, she grasped Langston’s hand in hers and squeezed. His palm was moist, but she stroked his clammy skin with her thumb and psychically sent him positive, healing energy.

  Her mother, Màthair Bello, and Màthair Zhang stood before the room, silencing it in an instant.

  Sydney despised her mother for showing up tonight when she hadn’t bothered before. Typical of her to want to be the center of attention during a moment of crisis. Where had she been for most of the apprentices’ regular classes, testings, and events?

  Regal in deep purple robes, her mother cleared her throat. It was the only gesture needed to ensure every face turned toward her. She clasped her hands and raised her chin as if basking in the reverence. “Welcome. As you know, an unknown supernatural entity recently attacked two of our own. I thank you for respecting the new protocols we’ve put into place. I assure you, we have things under control, but I urge you to continue to be cautious and stay in groups until otherwise notified.” She stopped, surveying the room.

  Syd wouldn’t put it past her to be mentally scanning the apprentices while she talked, assuming she could dip into all their heads the way she could Sydney’s—even without the bloodline connection. Her mother loved to be mysterious about her powers and abilities. Sydney believed she did it so that her subjects were perpetually intimidated by the unknown, by some underlying threat. It helped ensure no one would dare challenge the High Priestess.

  Her mother continued, her voice a booming echo inside the Main Hall. “Langston and Jake are still a part of this coven and will attend classes as usual. I know that each one of you will treat them with the same dignity and respect as before. The other Masters, Elders, Lords, and I, as well as the Directive, are confident that we will be able to rectify this travesty. We will find the entity, destroy it, and reunite Langston and Jake with their rightful magic.”

  Whispers and murmuring sprang from the crowd.

  Her mother raised her arms up and out at her sides. “Silence!”

  The room went eerily quiet and still. It happened so quickly, Sydney could hear her own heartbeat.

  “Until that time, Jake and Langston will observe you practicing, and you will be as supportive, welcoming, and gracious as I know you all to be.”

  Sydney watched her mother turn to face Màthairs Zhang and Bello, before gliding out of the room. It had been quite the performance.

  Sydney sprinted to catch up to her mother. When she neared, she placed a gentle hand on her mother’s back. “Wait. Please.”

  Her mother turned, a look of annoyance on her face. “You are supposed to be with the other apprentices.”

  “Why haven’t you answered me? I’ve sent you several messages, and the crows returned with nothing each time.”

  Her mother steepled her fingers. “I’ve been busy rectifying your mistakes.”

  Even though her questioning was going to infuriate her mother, she needed to try. She needed to know if her mother was close to fixing the situation. Sydney longed for the days when her biggest concern was studying for testing. She wanted to have fun with her friends again, have a boyfriend who voluntarily left his room, and remember what it was like to goof-off in the village with Justin. Sydney didn’t know if any of that would ever happen again.

  She pulled her attention back to her mother. “I know you’re busy, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. What are you and the other Elders doing about the entity? Have you found it? Do you know where it’s hiding? No one feels safe right now.”

  “It’s no longer your concern, dear. I’m handling it.”

  “But how?”

  “You don’t get to question me. Now go back to the Main Hall and prepare for your studies.” She put a limp hand on Sydney’s cheek. “This conversation is over.” Maybe it was an attempt at comfort, but it felt placating and dismissive.

  “You’re not doing anything, are you?” Syd asked, gently removing her mother’s hand, although she didn’t drop it.

  Her mother rolled her violet eyes and pulled away, clearly annoyed that her manipulation hadn’t worked. “My best witches are working on this. There has been no sign of anything unusual in the Nest, at Ashcroft, around campus, or in the surrounding woods. Nothing has happened in Danvers or the surrounding communities. No one can sense any foreign magic in the air. If it weren’t for Langston and Jake, I wouldn’t be certain anything was out there at all, considering your propensity for embellishment. Whatever this thing is, it’s likely left. We are continuing to monitor everything and have additional protection wards up. Now, stop putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. Back to class.”

  Was it possible that none of the Elders had told her about Cassidy? Regardless, Sydney had no faith in her mother’s words. She could tell her mother was hiding something. Besides, why would the shifter leave when it had only begun to claim its revenge?

  It was lying in wait now. It had exposed itself and knew it. Knew that the powerful Elder witches were looking for it. If her mother refused to take this threat seriously, Sydney needed to step up and protect her people. More than ever, she needed to raise Saskia’s spirit—before there were more attacks and witches weren’t only bled of their magic but killed outright.

  Sydney did what her mother wanted and went back to class. Their lesson on Divination was less than productive. Langston had wanted to work with Sydney, but every time she used her abilities, she could see it was like a slap in his face. Divination was a High magic proficiency, his specialty, and it was agony to know that everything she did w
as a pointed reminder of what he’d lost.

  Each one of them was to ask private questions to the universe before using their preferred way to decipher the answers. Witches generally decided over time between the multiple divination techniques. Their options were numerous and included tarot cards, crystals, tea leaves, the Norse Runes, pendulums, osteomancy (reading bones), lithomancy (reading with stones), numerology, and even automatic writing to translate the universe’s answers. It even worked to speak to the Ancestors. It was worth a try now.

  Sydney quietly asked if Langston would ever get his magic back. She blamed her poor technique when she didn’t get the answer she wanted.

  When most of the apprentices had left, Justin and Jax approached them, Justin holding up his phone. “Ainsley thinks she might have something. We’re going to meet her behind the rowing building in twenty minutes.”

  Sydney might despise the middling, but she was willing to see whatever the twit thought she’d discovered. She stood, having just put her grimoire and robes away when she met Langston’s eyes. “You’re coming.”

  He just stared at his feet, not answering. Sydney understood, but she also knew he’d feel better if he was a part of the solution. Yanking Langston by the arm, she pulled him away from the rest of the group. “You’re going to fight with us to get your magic back. We’re in this together. I’m not going to let this thing win, and neither are you.” He glanced up at her, and she could see in his eyes that he wanted to come. That was all she needed.

  There were still trace amounts of snow in patches around the grounds from the snowfall a few days before. The night air chilled her, probably because she’d had so little sleep.

  Justin headed for the back of the rowing building, and Syd followed along with the others.