by Rye Brewer
Not being able to control your own affinity after the age of fifteen was practically an embarrassment. It implied that you were probably either stupid or immature. Or both.
Shouldn’t you be able to control it by this age?
I groaned to myself in the bathroom and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will the blackness away as, once again, Aidan’s voice echoed in my ears.
Was that what was happening to me? Was I regressing? Had I fallen ill with some rare or unknown disease that caused mature witches to suddenly have the ability, or lack thereof, of thirteen-year-olds?
It would explain the way I inexplicably managed to set fire to a cauldron in class the day before, despite the fact that I’d been lighting cauldrons since Aunt Inez bought me my first practice set at age ten.
Not only that, but it would certainly explain why my eyes were no longer hazel, but now the same pitch-black they were when I was a child.
How could this be happening? I was a reasonably talented witch. Even if I hated history and politics, I usually excelled at more practical classes. If I was losing my affinity, did that mean I was losing my witch powers as a whole?
Was I—goddess forbid—becoming human?
“Eww,” I moaned to myself.
After a few minutes, eyes still shut tight, I shook my head to clear it and looked back at my reflection in the antique mirror.
My eyes were still black.
“Okay, don’t panic, Moira,” I whispered to myself.
Great. Now I was talking to myself. I really was losing my mind.
I was barely aware of the itching and burning in my back slowly fading away, too focused on my eyes to care. How was I going to explain this to people? The other witches would think I was going through a second puberty, surely. They’d give me pitying looks or whisper cruel things behind my back.
The demons and the necromancers would listen to the rumors and make their own biased judgments.
The soul reapers probably wouldn’t care, but I still didn’t want to see their unnerving icy blue gaze staring deep into my new black eyes.
Get a grip.
I brushed my hair out of my face and held out my palm. The only way to find out if I was losing my witch ability was to test it.
I blinked my eyes to clear the panicked tears that were starting to grow at the corners, and then blew a soft breath of air into the palm of my hand.
Instantly, a small flame flickered into existence. Small and brilliantly yellow, the tiny blaze danced a mere inch from my skin, though the heat of the carefully contained fire felt no hotter than a pleasantly warm tickle.
Most witches with fire affinities could summon flames out of nowhere without being burned. The more talented witches were the ones who could manipulate the flames as if they were simply another limb on their body.
Usually, I was the latter.
I narrowed my gaze and focused in on the little fire in my hand.
I drew in a slow breath; the flame expanded obediently. As I exhaled, the flame contracted, becoming a small whisper of a blaze. I practiced this several more times. All seemed fine.
I tossed the flame in the air like a ball. It sailed up toward the ceiling a few feet then, well-trained as always, came back down to land softly in my waiting palm.
Still all good.
I scrunched my nose, screwed my lips to the side, then straightened my shoulders, preparing for a particularly difficult trick that few fire witches my age could do.
The flame in my hand grew hotter, though I could barely feel the increase in heat. It turned bright blue. I grinned, willing it to turn green, then purple, then pink, then deeply scarlet, like blood.
With a sigh of relief, I allowed the flame to fade back to orange and then blew it out gently. A single wisp of smoke took its place, which I dissipated with a wave of my hand.
Clearly, my witch powers were still intact. Whatever loss of control I’d experienced yesterday definitely had to have been a freak accident that would probably never happen again.
Please be normal, please be normal, please be normal, I prayed as I dared to catch my reflection again.
Hazel. Golden flakes and espresso swirls. The slightest hint of sunset yellow and gleaming copper.
Suddenly, with no explanation to offer, my eyes were back to normal.
With a frown, I fumbled open the buttons of my blouse and shrugged it off my shoulders just far enough so that I could twist to see my back in the mirror.
My skin was as pale and unblemished as it had always been. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of a rash, despite the uncomfortable, itchy burn I experienced in the library.
That was weird.
Not that I was complaining. It wasn’t like I wanted a rash. Nor did I want spooky black eyes.
Elated to not be a total freak anymore, I quickly put my shirt and sweater back on.
Then, unable to stop my rebellious streak, I took the lame navy sweater off again. Under Realm Academy really didn’t give us many options in terms of fashionable expression. We could either wear the ugly plaid blazer, a navy sweater or—get this—a green sweater.
Groundbreaking, I know.
I decided to shove the sweater into my backpack and instead pulled out a pretty silk scarf my cousin bought me in Paris two summers ago. It was hand-painted with tiny red roses and orange butterflies.
With a satisfied grin, I tied the scarf around my neck and adjusted the delicate fabric so that it poked out from behind the top two buttons of my blouse, which I’d left undone.
Perfect.
With one last glance in the mirror to confirm that my eyes were still their normal shade of hazel, I hurried out of the bathroom.
However, I tripped on a shoelace I hadn’t realized was untied and practically stumbled out of the door.
Fortunately, there was a tall, solid, and delightfully warm body for me to crash into and immediately catch my fall.
Unfortunately, that body belonged to Aidan Grimsbane.
“Damn, Bloodworth,” Aidan snorted, grabbing my shoulders firmly and stepping back as I gained my balance, quickly putting distance between us. “Walk much?”
I scowled at his dumb, arrogant face. I didn’t care how handsome he was. Nor did I care how shiny his black hair was or how sparkly his black eyes were or how his skin was a rich shade of warm honey that looked kind of perfect under the flickering light of the hallway sconces…
Uhh, what?
Forget everything. I was undeniably losing my mind.
The point was, Aidan may have been hot, but his best friend Calder was hotter. And also way nicer to me.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I shot back, narrowing my gaze. “What are you doing, lurking outside the girl’s bathroom, anyway?”
Aidan snorted in amusement. “The boy’s bathroom is right next to it, genius.”
Obviously, he was right. That was usually how bathrooms worked. They were next to each other.
Whatever.
“Setting anything on fire in there?” He nodded toward the bathroom door I’d just practically fallen out from.
No, I wanted to spit back in reply. But I’d be happy to set fire to you.
Instead, I smoothed my features and offered him a fake smile. “Please don’t ask a lady about what she does in the bathroom. It’s weird and creepy.”
Aidan rolled his eyes.
Without so much as a goodbye, he wordlessly turned away from me and headed toward the boy’s bathroom. Unwilling to be in his presence for longer than necessary, I started down the hall toward the cafeteria.
“Oh, Moira?” Aidan called after me.
Ugh, what now?
With a frustrated exhale, I halted in place and glanced back over my shoulder at Aidan. He was leaning casually against the doorframe of the bathroom and smirking like he had just thought of a brilliant new way to taunt me.
I wished he would just move on and find a new victim.
“What, Grimsbane?” I practically growled.
“Just thought I’d let you know that Calder and Maude are basically dating again,” he replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
I hated the way that sentence immediately made my mood plummet.
Calder and Maude broke up after the Spring Equinox formal last year, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if Aidan was, in fact, telling the truth. Maude Sanders was one of the prettiest necromancers in our year, and birds of a feather tended to flock together.
But why would Aidan stop me from walking away just to tell me that? Did he really think I cared about whether or not Calder Darkmore was single?
Okay, maybe I did.
Aidan didn’t need to know that, though.
“So?” I put as much venom in my voice as I could muster.
Of course, Aidan wasn’t fazed by my poisonous attitude. He was one of the few people immune to it, unfortunately.
“So,” he mocked. “I figured I’d let you know… so you can save your pathetic flirtations for someone else.”
Damn. He was mean.
Even though all I wanted to do was set fire to his perfectly tailored trousers, I decided it would probably be best to just ignore him. After all, people like Aidan were rude because they wanted to get a response out of their victims.
Instead of burning that ruthless demon to a crisp, I simply turned on my heel and marched away.
Screw Aidan Grimsbane. If I could help it, I was never going to talk to that boy ever again.
4
Finally, it was one of the most exciting days of the autumn quarter. The first soccer game of the year.
Maybe it seemed weird that schools for magical beings played a game as ordinary and human as soccer, but that was also kind of the point. After all, the sport was a classic international tradition and fun to watch, whether you were magical or not.
I was particularly excited because that meant I got to see Calder Darkmore in action again. I’d decided to completely ignore Aidan’s comments last week about Calder getting back together with Maude and my needing to get over it. He just couldn’t stand the thought of other people being happy.
Plus, I’d been paying close attention, and Calder had barely interacted with Maude all week. If they were getting back together, they weren’t doing a very good job of it.
So, in conclusion, Aidan was a stupid meanie.
Kendra and I were making our way up the stands with the rest of the student body while the players warmed up on the field. The best part about soccer in the magical world was that it was co-ed. Shout out to feminism.
I glanced down at the grass to get a brief look at Calder looking unbearably handsome in his navy soccer jersey and caught Talia’s eye as she stretched a few feet away from him. She waved and shot me a wink, knowing precisely what I’d been looking down at the field for.
Kendra snickered and tugged me along.
“Why don’t you just tell him you like him?” she whispered as we joined a crowd of other senior witches.
Someone had brewed some instant-warming tea and was passing it around in a thermos since the mountain air at Under Realm Academy was already getting quite cold.
I pouted at my best friend. “What if he doesn’t like me back?”
“Oh, please,” sighed Kendra. “He’s such a flirt with you. Anyone with eyes can see.”
I just couldn’t seem to take anyone’s word for it. The truth was, I wasn’t nearly as confident as I appeared to be.
“That doesn’t mean he likes me,” I argued. “Maybe it just means that I’m easy to flirt with.”
Kendra snorted and shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
I shrugged. “Perhaps.”
A group of necromancers closer to the front rows of the stands erupted into a chorus of boos as Briar Academy made their first appearance onto the field. The group included both Aidan and Maude, which caused me to grimace slightly before joining in on the heckling.
Briar Academy was Under Realm’s biggest rival. Games against them were always intense, and the score was sometimes 0-0 down to the very last minutes of the match. They had a good team just like we did, but that wasn’t the only reason that we usually butted heads.
The thing was, Briar Academy didn’t have the same kind of magical creatures that we did. A small portion of their student body was comprised of witches, but they also let in a vast array of animal shifters. Ranging from mermaids—who could walk on legs and swim with a tail—don’t believe the legends—to werewolves. Briar Academy was one of the few schools on the planet that accepted students like that.
The thing was, in our world, there was a lot of prejudice against their type. Animal shifters were stereotyped as barbaric and less evolved. I didn’t know if it was true, but I did know that their players were undoubtedly a little more aggressive and more prone to starting fights than ours.
However, admittedly, it was probably less a genuine character trait and more like the remnants of a complicated history that witches and necromancers, in particular, had with animal shifters. After all, one of my ancestors was historically famous for banishing them to the farthest corners of the world.
Yikes.
Anyway, the game was starting down on the field.
Talia was a kickass midfielder, and she instantly snatched the ball into Under Realm’s possession. She told us over breakfast that morning how much she and the team had practiced plays and drills even in the worst August heat. Sports totally weren’t my thing, mostly because I wasn’t a fan of sweating, but I appreciated the talent and athleticism that went into them.
Under Realm students performed their usual cheers, hoping to drown out the crowd of surly, sour-faced Briar Academy students who came to support their school in the bleachers on the other side of the field.
Talia passed the ball to Luca Romanov, who expertly dodged an interception from a werewolf. He passed it to Oliver, a witch in our year, who was in the clear to head right for the goal. Our cheers increased in volume as he ran, dribbling the ball like a pro player.
However, fast as lightning, a dragon shifter from Briar Academy cut Oliver off and slammed his body into him. The referee blew the whistle immediately.
Thankfully, Oliver was tall and broad, incapable of being knocked down by the surprisingly petite dragon shifter boy who, for some reason, decided that soccer was suddenly a contact sport.
Under Realm students booed loudly at Briar’s players after Oliver waved to indicate he was alright. The noise quickly turned into cheers when the dragon shifter was given a yellow card.
“Why would they even do that?” asked a freshman in the row behind me and Kendra. “It’s not like it earns them any points.”
I turned, happy to take the opportunity to educate Under Realm’s newest students in the evil ways of our rivals.
“Briar Academy plays dirty,” I told them. “They care more about incapacitating our team than actually scoring goals.”
The freshmen, two female witches who appeared to be twins, nodded with wide eyes at my explanation.
“We shouldn’t even be playing those beasts,” sniffed the twin on the right.
In response, I offered her a shrug and turned back around. Calling them beasts seemed a little harsh, but I wasn’t about to admit that in the middle of our current situation.
As the game carried on, with Talia once again leading the charge down the field, I watched the small dragon shifter flit about the field. He was, of course, still in his full human form, but the way he moved seemed as if he was practically flying. His kind were rare. I heard an older witch explain once, that even though schools like Briar would let in animal shifters, dragons in particular usually attended their own secretive private schools hidden away from all other creatures' eyes. I wondered, idly how this one ended up at Briar if that was the case.
Suddenly, cheers sounded from the opposite stands as Briar Academy got possession of the ball and started moving down toward our goal, which Calder was defending with shrewd focus. He was a fantasti
c goalie; one of the best goalies that Under Realm Academy ever had, in fact. Very few balls ever got past him.
And he looked so cute, crouched down and ready to defend our school’s honor.
The dragon shifter had the ball and aimed what appeared to be an unfortunately precise kick at our goal.
Calder blocked it effortlessly.
The Under Realm students in the stands roared in victory, causing the Briar students to glare at us from across the field.
Down on the grass, the dragon shifter growled loudly enough for it to be heard from even mine and Kendra’s distance.
“Whoa,” whispered Kendra in surprise.
I watched the boy scowl at the Under Realm students in the stands.
I noticed his eyes were inky black, darker than a starless sky.
My stomach dropped.
I thought back to a few days ago when I was panicking in the bathroom, willing the strange blackness in my eyes to go away. I had been worried it was a sign of my losing my witch powers.
As the game carried on, I willed away the sudden bubble of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. I was sure many magical creatures had black eyes, not just younger witches and mature dragon shifters. Maybe it was more common than I thought for witches to have unexplained but temporary shifts in eye color.
Still, the sight of the dragon shifter’s eyes was a spooky reminder of the weirdness I’d been experiencing ever since school started.
On the field, tensions were growing high. The game was going precisely as expected. Under Realm and Briar teams were both growing more frustrated with their inability to gain the upper hand on their opponent. Anxiety in the stands grew high as we cheered louder and louder, hoping to give our team the support they needed to score at least one goal.
Luca, a necromancer from Under Realm, had the ball. He was protecting it tightly, and Talia was close by, trying to stay open to accept a pass just in case someone overtook him.
But it looked like he was in the clear.
Our shouts grew more and more excited as Luca sprinted down the field toward Briar’s goal. A werewolf was hovering close to him, trying to kick the ball away, but with little success. Luca was too fast.