Term One

by K M Charron

  A moment later, Jax pushed himself back up despite his weakened state and resumed his attack. Ainsley breathed a sigh of relief.

  The shifter shrieked abruptly, its red glow dulling. Maybe it was getting frailer.

  Sydney and Justin moved in closer, shifting their streams of magic onto the figure’s chest. Imposter Harper began transforming—her face and body melting right in front of them. It was as if the shifter’s resolve had broken all at once, and it could no longer hold on. The liquefied skin and loose clothing slid down, dropping into a bloody, fleshy heap onto the wet ground. A cloudy, gray mist whirled frantically into a formidable funnel above them.

  Ainsley stepped back as her friends’ magic remained focused on the shifter. Their bloody eyes, ears, and noses made her stomach twist. What if it was killing them? She’d never seen anything like their effort before. They wouldn’t survive if they tried to keep this up.

  The mist broke free from the funnel and began circling above their heads so quickly that the five couldn’t keep their magic steady on it. Ainsley gasped, her hand covering her screams as Jax, Ava, and Sydney simultaneously buckled to their knees, their arms lowering dangerously. Only Khourtney and Justin remained on their feet, their arms fully outstretched, but it was evident that their power was diminishing, their blue and yellow blasts dwindling to erratic surges.

  The mist drew back and launched straight for Sydney.

  Without thinking, Ainsley threw her body in front of Sydney, bracing herself for the impact. The mist struck her with a force she hadn’t anticipated. It rattled her body, jarring her insides, but she dug her feet into the ground, leaning into the pain, refusing to be bowled over. The weight of the energy pressed into her chest, flexing her ribs, squeezing them into her lungs. She gave up fighting for air and focused on her legs which were trembling under the force of the blow. Somehow, she remained upright.

  Suddenly, its wave of electricity seemed to bounce off her. It was still painful, but no longer debilitating. Her eyes tore down to her chest, and she cried out with her newfound breath, seeing a gray-black radiance rebounding from her body.

  A furious, thunderous roar crashed from the mist, and Ainsley crouched, her hands sheltering her ears. The sound ripped and twisted through the air all around her. She needed it to stop.

  The grip on Ainsley released, and she realized it was drawing back. The mist swirled into another funnel, propelling itself dizzyingly toward her. The funnel encapsulated her, twisting around her body, trapping her inside it, and ripping the breath from her lungs.

  Sydney

  Sydney stood in disbelief, watching as the mist wrap its coil around Ainsley just feet away from her. The middling had thrown herself in front of Sydney, protecting her. But why?

  The sound of the entity violently spinning, ever closer, made her ears pulsate, and she fought the urge to duck, to cover her head and hide. Instead, she raised her hands higher, sending as many blasts as she could into the blurry funnel.

  Justin screamed and directed waves of rage-filled magic toward it. They needed to be careful not to hurt Ainsley in the process. Blast after blast hit the mist, but it didn’t relent. How could they beat it when it didn’t seem to be weakening? Sydney’s lungs ached, and she willed herself to keep going, although she only wanted to give in and collapse.

  Glimpses of Ainsley’s pallid face broke through the fog. She looked like a rag doll, limp and flopping at the fog’s direction. She was a middling with no special powers, nothing to fend it off. No human could survive this.

  Sydney’s head pounded, and her eyes felt like unseen thumbs were pushing them out from inside her aching head. She couldn’t give up. She wouldn’t. For some reason, a middling—to whom she’d admittedly been awful—had given up her life to save Sydney’s. Lifting her hands higher, Sydney dug her feet into the slick, hard earth and gritted her teeth. With quaking arms, she cast as much magic as she could from her fingertips. Her resurgent power added to Justin’s. Sickness tore from Sydney’s chest up through her throat, and she inhaled sharply to stabilize herself. It was all she could do to keep her magic steady, aiming high at the vortex, not wanting to damage Ainsley’s body more than it already was. Syd owed her that much.

  Moments later, Jax, Ava, and Khourtney were on their feet and attacking as well. She had to believe that the shifter was getting weaker, but they needed extra power. The Ancestors must have reached inside her mind to help because she suddenly remembered what they were standing on.

  “Use the ley lines,” she screamed, her voice lost in the thrashing of wind.

  Justin and Jax looked at her, mouthing the words, “What?”

  She tried again, over-enunciating. “Ley lines! Tap into the power of the lines!” Her friends nodded with eager recognition. She concentrated, pulling the ground’s magical energy up into her body. She felt a warm sensation enter her feet, snaking up her legs and chest, and flowing down her arms and coursing out her fingertips.

  The mist grew more aggressive, twisting and dashing all around them as if it understood what they were doing.

  Holding her hands firm, she felt her magic intensify and checked Langston to see if he was ready with the globe. Her stomach sank. He gripped the orb, his mouth open and eyes unblinking.

  No, no. He was focused on Ainsley, shell-shocked.

  “Langston!” Sydney called out, desperate to snap him out of the terrorized trance he was in. “Langston, we need you!”

  He turned his head toward her and nodded.

  Syd nodded back, relieved he was still with them. “Everyone hold steady!”

  Their power momentarily suspended by the entity. They needed to move it toward the globe. If the others could contain it, she could perform the binding spell. She’d memorized the words to the incantation, but she’d have to release her hold on the mist in order to reserve enough magic to perform it. Praying her friends were strong enough, she pulled her hands back, resting them at her sides. Her muscles ached and throbbed with a severity she’d never experienced before. Her tendons felt like they were going to snap.

  The others had pulled the fog nearly to her. Just a little bit more, she told herself. Hold on just a little bit longer. The magic from the ley lines was helping, but they were all drained. Sydney felt hollow, her hammering heart threatening to give out. All of her limbs quivered.

  Doubts began to flood her mind. What if she wasn’t strong enough to complete the spell? She breathed deep and reminded herself: Focus. She saw her dad, too weak even to open his eyes. If she died, she’d never find a cure for him. Sydney summoned every last cell in her body to electrify.

  “Hurry up, Syd!” Jax called out.

  It had to be now, or this thing was going to kill them all, incorporate their magic, and murder every witch she knew.

  Raising her hands one last time, she closed her eyes and began reciting the complicated incantation—the one to pull the mist inside the orb, binding it forever. She drew every ounce of available power she could, from the ground and the supernatural energy thick in the air around her.

  Halfway through the spell, Khourtney’s voice broke through her concentration.

  “We don’t have long!”

  Keeping her eyes closed and her focus on the spell’s words, Sydney kept going.

  Agonized screaming rang out, a bellowing that snapped her out of the spell’s intensity. She opened her eyes to see Ava and Justin pinned to the ground, the mist circling them. An image of Langston and Jake shrieking and writhing in anguish filled her field of vision. Her whole body threatened to break.

  Then a bright light flashed, and two streams of golden magic shot over her right shoulder, hitting the mist. Sydney reeled around to see Máthair Zhang and Athair Choi blasting magic straight into the swirling entity, beams of pulsating energy pouring from their palms. Ava, Jax, Justin, and Khourtney steeled themselves, adding their power to the mix once again. Electric currents of gold, red, blue, purple, and silver wrapped around the entity. Echoing cries filled
the air as the mist fought their attack.

  Sydney concentrated, reciting the binding spell from the beginning as quickly as she could manage. She dropped to her knees as sweat trickled down her swaying body, but she didn’t stop.

  “It’s working,” Athair Choi called out.

  Sydney dug deeper. The incantation was almost complete.

  Langston jumped into her periphery vision, holding the charmed globe. “Over here,” he shouted above the chaos.

  Their collective powers ensnared the mist in a magic web, guiding it toward Langston, who held the globe as far from his body as possible.

  The mist throbbed and struggled.

  “Now!” Máthair Zhang and Athair Choi released one final burst of magic, lighting up the darkness with such brightness that it momentarily blinded Sydney.

  Sydney wanted to look away, but she kept her resolve, studying the mist as her fellow Wildes lowered it into the globe. She needed to speak the final incantation, and the mist would be sucked inside and bound.

  “Adiuro vos huic rei. Adiuro te incolumem. Et ligabunt te in aeternum!”

  She watched in awe as the raging gray funnel entered the orb. “Shut it!”

  Langston didn’t miss a beat, closing and latching the entity inside. It continued to screech and swirl ferociously beneath the impenetrable, spelled glass.

  But Sydney wasn’t finished. Still crumpled on the ground, she motioned for the orb. Langston hurried it to her side, kneeling and resting the globe in her outstretched palms. Placing her hands over the latch, she said Saskia’s last enchantment and pulled a small paring knife from her pocket. With a shaky hand, she carved a rune into the glass, and the door and hinges vanished before her eyes. The orb was seamless, the shifter confined inside for eternity.

  Gasping and choking back sobs of joy, exhaustion, and relief, Sydney bent forward, grasping her knees. She fought to stay conscious as her vision spotted, threatening to blacken entirely.

  The air was still and silent—no violent wind or hail, no tree branches rumbled, no shrill screams rattled through her head.

  Her thoughts whirled. She closed her eyes for mere seconds before hands were on her back, and voices told her what a great job she’d done. She nodded, slowed her breathing, and struggled to lift her head.

  Justin and Khourtney were bent over Ainsley, whispering.

  “Is Ainsley…?”

  When no one answered, she gathered her strength, “Answer me! Is. Ainsley. Okay?”

  Her voice rang out, piercing the stillness. Too many people had already died. How could she live with the guilt of this too?

  Opening her eyes, she pulled herself into a crawling position and dragged herself over to where Ainsley lay. Snow coated Ainsley’s hair and clothes, her eyes shut like she was in the deepest sleep. She looked perfectly at ease.

  Justin sat with his face buried in his palms at the girl’s side.

  Khourtney’s fingers reached beneath Ainsley’s ear, feeling for a pulse. “I think she’s alive.”

  “Check her,” Syd demanded, her gaze on Máthair Zhang. The Master hurried to where the middling lay on the ground.

  Sydney hadn’t wanted this. She might’ve hated Ainsley, but she didn’t want her dead.

  Syd observed Khourtney’s grandmother place her palms over Ainsley. “She’ll be okay. By some miracle, she’s survived without major damage.”

  A few moments later, Ainsley coughed, her blue eyes fluttering before opening. Justin exhaled, clutched her, and brought her to his chest, rocking her back and forth.

  Khourtney fell back next to her grandmother with an expression of anxious relief. Sydney felt it too.

  Justin eased Ainsley to a seated position, and she nodded at something he’d said that Syd couldn’t make out.

  Máthair Zhang gathered herself and stood; Athair Choi rushed to her side to make sure she was all right. Sydney didn’t know him well, but he didn’t have a reputation for being a teddy bear. Sydney noticed the exasperated stares from the two Elders.

  “How did you find us?” she managed to croak out.

  Máthair Zhang straightened, her hands clasped behind her back. Chin up, she said, “Really, child?” Her mouth was a thin, tense line. “Did you really think that, with your paltry skill level, you could possibly subdue me? I let you believe that you had successfully cast against me in the Armory on All Hallows’ Eve.” She laughed so drily, it sounded almost sinister. “You have much misguided hubris to believe that you could best not only a more advanced witch but a Master witch.” Her voice cut like a freshly sharpened knife. “You foolish, reckless girl.”

  “What are you talking about?” Khourtney asked, moving from Ainsley’s side to stand between her grandmother and Sydney. She looked pleadingly from one to the other, seeking an explanation. “I was with you both that night. What are you talking about?”

  Sydney’s throat ached, her heart a series of painful beats beneath her ribs. Everyone watched her. What could she say? She’d used illicit magic on a Master witch. She had no idea how much should she admit to, or what would happen to her for this outrageous abuse of her training.

  Máthair Zhang took three steps closer to Sydney. Her hands still clasped behind her. The muscles in her jaw were clenched firm. “I see that my granddaughter doesn’t know of your ill deeds, Ms. Lockwood.” Máthair Zhang’s audience trailed every word and move she made, curious to learn more about Sydney’s betrayal.

  Looking at the others, she began to explain, “Samhain night, my granddaughter and Sydney came to see me, asking about things with which they had no business. I indulged them with their queries, tried to help even, but instead of trusting me with the truth, they lied. They betrayed my trust. Sydney ordered my granddaughter on an errand while she used magic against me.” Whirring around, she cocked her head and glared once again at Sydney.

  Punctuating each word, she said, “Did you really think you could use the very sleeping potion you had just learned on me and get away with it? And a forgetting spell?” She walked a slow circle around Sydney, never taking her narrowed eyes off her.

  Syd’s mind raced. If the spells hadn’t worked, why hadn’t Máthair gone to the High Priestess about what Sydney had done? Why pretend not to know anything this whole time? An eerie sickness loomed. “Please, I had my reasons, misguided as they might’ve been. Let me explain—”

  Máthair Zhang held up a hand, and Sydney closed her mouth, her breath arrested. The Master continued, “You do not get to explain anything. You had your chance for explanations. You were to follow your mother’s instructions, but you went behind her back. Behind the back of your entire coven.” Her cold, harsh tone felt like an emotional skinning. “And do not speak to me of misguided anything. What you’ve done is inexcusable.”

  Sydney wanted to say something, to defend herself instead of being persecuted when she’d only been trying to save her people, but she knew that she had no reasoning the Elder would accept.

  Justin gained his feet and moved cautiously toward Máthair Zhang. “We’re sorry. Please, this isn’t all on Sydney. We waited, but it was clear nothing was being done to find the shifter. We were afraid for everyone’s safety.”

  “And yet, despite you, two of our children died tonight, and because of your initial delay, two others are left without their powers.” Athair Choi’s voice echoed through the silence.

  Justin bowed his head.

  Khourtney stood before her grandmother. “I didn’t know Sydney was going to use magic on you.” She reeled around facing Syd, her face a twisted snarl. “How could you? I’ll never forgive you, not for any of this!” She wrapped her arms around her grandmother. “I’m so sorry.”

  Máthair Zhang stroked Khourtney’s head and released her.

  Sydney broke the temporary silence. “What are you going to do?” Her voice was childlike, and she hated herself for it, but she felt very much like a child, waiting for her punishment.

  “Do you mean, am I going to go to your mother with
what you’ve done?” Máthair Zhang said coolly. Her gaze swept over each of them. “You were stupid, careless, and above all, lucky that this entity didn’t kill you all tonight. I will deal with each of you personally. I will not ruin the rest of your lives by bringing this to the High Priestess or The Directive. None of you will ever speak about any of this again. Do you understand?”

  Sydney nodded, too afraid to make a sound. The others followed her lead.

  Athair Choi held up his hand and wiggled his fingers at Langston. “Bring me the artifact.”

  “No!” The words escaped Sydney’s lips before she could stop them.

  His black eyes narrowed on her, his jaw clenched. “What did you say to me, girl?” He levitated and stood before her in seconds. She could see the rapid movement of his broad chest as he breathed, felt waves of resentment drift from him. “Give it to me,” he demanded with his arm outstretched.

  Langston backed away from the group, still holding the orb. “We can’t give it to anyone. We have to hide it somewhere safe—somewhere it can never be accessed again.”

  Athair Choi dropped his hand. “Máthair Zhang and I will decide what is safe. You’ve all done enough.”

  Ava stomped her foot into the hard ground. “I can’t keep listening to this. What we’ve done is help trap and defeat a nearly 400-year-old shapeshifting entity that was bent on killing us all. You should be thanking us,” she said from her perch on the ground near Ainsley. “Sure, we made mistakes, but we also risked our magic and our lives to protect our coven.”

  Sydney was seconds from sealing Ava’s mouth magically. Her friend had a bit of a rebellious streak, but she’d never expected her to talk back to an Elder like this. She needed to de-escalate the situation. “This is my fault. Ava’s very emotional and has been through a lot, so please excuse her outburst. Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it.”