by Rye Brewer
“Go on, man,” Calder said, nodding his head in the direction where Kendra and Talia still were on the dance floor.
Luca nodded, downed the rest of his drink, and then marched over to the girls. I giggled at the serious look he had fixed onto his face, and then turned to Calder once he was gone.
“You look really pretty tonight, Moira,” he said, giving me the classic smile that always made me weak in the knees.
But the itching-turned-burning in my back was becoming so overwhelming that I almost couldn’t focus. Not even on the hottest guy in school. A wave of lightheadedness washed over me, but I tried my best to keep my cool.
“Thanks,” I replied, trying to look demure despite what my body was currently going through. I mustered up the courage deep inside of me and then opened my mouth to ask him to dance just as a slow song came on. “Do you maybe want to—”
“Jeez, Moira,” said a familiar voice from behind me.
Instantly, dread filled my stomach as I turned to find Aidan had approached the drinks table and was smirking at my pathetic attempt to woo his best friend.
Why did he always have to insert himself between Calder and me? Couldn’t he just leave people alone?
“You don’t look so good,” Aidan continued, putting a look of faux concern on his face that I could see right through. He was dressed casually in ripped jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket… perhaps taking the bad boy stereotype a little too seriously.
“Excuse me?” I raised a single eyebrow at him. It was hard to collect my usual level of attitude given my current state, but I certainly tried my best.
“Yeah, you’re, like, all sweaty and stuff,” Aidan said.
I glanced at Calder, who was now frowning and glancing at my forehead, where I was sure a visible layer of moistness had gathered. I felt like I had a terrible fever.
Not only that, but now I was blushing because Aidan was clearly trying to humiliate me. I wanted to punch him in the nose. Or force-feed him a potion that would turn him into a toad.
Instead of doing either of those things, I simply muttered a quick, “Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” and rushed out of the Grand Hall.
Once outside, I hid myself away in an invisible corner of the castle and tried to calm myself as I sank to the floor. Not only did I hate myself for not accomplishing my goal of dancing with Calder that night, but I also hated myself for whatever weird sickness I was experiencing.
Senior year, which I thought would be the greatest year yet, was really turning out to be a mixed bag.
6
Midterm exam time at Under Realm Academy meant one thing. The fun and games of soccer season and Halloween were well and truly over. Every single student, even the ones who usually didn’t care about having the best grades, shoved their noses into books like their lives depended on it.
The thing was, at Under Realm, your life kind of did depend on it.
Not that they killed you if you failed an exam.
It was just that midterm exams and final exams were averaged each semester and determined whether you would be allowed to stay at Under Realm. Maybe it was harsh to kick out the students who weren’t doing well in classes, but there were other schools for them to go to if that ever happened.
Under Realm had a reputation for being one of the best schools in the country and had a long-established record of producing some of the most famous and most talented witches, demons, necromancers, and soul reapers in history.
Everyone at this school wanted a chance to go down in history like that. Or rather, they at least didn’t want to risk having to attend a second-rate school like Briar Academy.
During midterms, the library became so full of students that they actually had to turn the Grand Hall into a second study space when mealtimes weren’t happening. This was great because there were no strict rules about silence and stillness in the Grand Hall, though the cavernous room maintained a reverent hush, regardless.
That morning, as was incredibly typical of me, I was late to meeting the other witches for studying.
Not because I overslept.
Talia and I had gotten breakfast together and I, unwilling to start studying so early in the morning—I was more of a night owl— offered to walk with her to her group study session with the rest of the senior demons.
Of course, she saw right through me and knew that I was mostly doing it so that I could chance an encounter with Calder after the disaster of the Halloween dance, but she didn’t judge me for it.
I walked with her to the private alcove near the demon classrooms, admittedly a little spooked by the satanic charms that were strung up along the walls. Cracked skulls and cursed knives and dried bundles of poisonous herbs—demons really knew how to take the worst of witch creations and appreciate their wickedness.
“We’re practicing demonic possession today,” Talia told me. “On birds.”
“What’s the purpose of possessing birds?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Talia shrugged. “Dramatics? I’m not sure, other than the fact that when we graduate, we demons will be expected to have chosen a familiar.”
That was true. Demons, upon full maturity, usually did their demonic dwelling with an animal companion that was so magically entwined with them that the animal often served as their eyes, ears, and nose when the demon took it upon themselves to haunt a human habitation. Talia herself had a little pet mouse the color of freshly fallen snow that she was very fond of, so I wondered if she would choose a fluffy rodent as hers.
I delved further. “Do you ever practice on humans?”
Talia snorted. “You know that’s illegal.”
“Oh, right. Well, humans get themselves possessed by demons so often, it’s hard to remember it’s against the law.” I laughed.
Unfortunately, my plan to casually bump into Calder was foiled when it turned out that, by the time we got there, Talia was early, and Calder was nowhere to be seen yet.
I said goodbye to her as more demons began to trickle into the alcove, a circular room with large windows thrown open to the autumn air.
Still, I couldn’t help my curiosity. I hadn’t seen Calder in action very often and I was desperate to see him act all sexy and demonic. A golden boy like him often made people doubt his abilities, what with his kind eyes and patient personality.
I hid behind a thick column near the alcove and waited while senior demons finished arriving. Calder was one of the last, clearly prone to lateness—like me!—given his classmates’ playful complaints.
Observing while the demons did a quick round of practice chants, similar to what soul reapers did—but not quite as disturbing—I admired his broad and muscular shoulders. He was so handsome. I really hoped that my freakish behavior at the dance hadn’t ruined all of my chances with him.
They quickly got into the possession part of their studying.
Calder went first.
Holding my breath and peering out from behind the column as far as I dared, I saw him close his eyes and take a deep breath. Suddenly, his eyes flashed open, no longer honey-brown, but black as night and rimmed in a glowing red. His classmates gave him praise as he worked, muttering under his breath and clenching his fists, open and closed repeatedly.
He looked terrifying, which was a way I’d never seen him before. Of course, I was used to these things and I wasn’t put out by it. Still, watching Calder become a dark-willed, black-eyed demon practically froze me to the spot.
The truth was, I’d had no idea what he was capable of.
Suddenly, an owl swooped into the room and landed on his shoulder in a feathery flurry of wings. Long talons dug into his shoulder, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, Calder stared straight ahead at the wall, his eyes blank, as if he were the one being possessed.
He murmured something to the owl, whose wide, spooky eyes had also turned black.
“Bring me blood,” he whispered.
Fascinated by the display, my heart raced in my chest as the owl t
ook off, back out the window. The other senior demons watched Calder patiently as he continued his demonic muttering.
The owl returned with an ear-piercing screech and dropped a large squirrel which had been reduced to a bloody sack of mangled limbs and matted fur, onto the stone tile.
I cringed at the sight.
Calder looked down at the poor creature on the floor, eyes still black as he stroked the top of the tawny owl’s head and grinned proudly.
I decided that then was probably a good time to duck out of there.
Hurrying to where the senior witches had said we were meeting, outside on the castle grounds, I found myself falling even deeper for him after seeing what just happened. Despite the fact that I was vaguely disturbed by the amount of blood, it was clear that he was a really talented demon.
And I found both talent and intelligence very attractive.
We could be such a good pair, especially if we both ended up at Brayton University together. He would be the impressive jock demon with a murderous owl and I’d be his badass witch girlfriend who could brew up deadly concoctions without flinching.
A few hours later, Kendra, Oliver, and I were gathered in a small group at a table near one of the twenty-foot high windows. Outside, the leaves of the surrounding forest had turned brilliant shades of orange and yellow and red. As a gentle breeze rustled them, it almost looked as if they were on fire.
We’d spent most of the morning going over various elemental skills outside. Kendra and Oliver both had an affinity for air, as evidenced by their somber gray eyes. They worked together on moving their bodies via invisible gusts of air, fallen leaves swirling as they floated throughout the grounds effortlessly.
While they flitted about with the other air witches, I practiced controlling my fire affinity. I was already quite skilled but I was getting even better at it.
Thankfully, what happened in the library and then again at the dance hadn’t occurred a third time. However, I couldn’t shake the reality that it might happen again.
I still didn’t have an explanation for it. Whatever it was, I certainly wasn’t losing my witch powers. In fact, if anything, my affinity for fire only seemed to grow stronger each day.
“Wow, Moira,” whispered a fire witch named Clover as we practiced together in the courtyard. I’d just summoned a tiny, contained ball of flame by blowing softly into the palm of my hand. “It’s like you can breathe fire. How do you do that?”
I giggled and made the flicker grow before our eyes until it was a shimmering, softball-sized inferno in my hand. I tossed the flame to Clover and she caught it easily, as if it were nothing more than a plastic toy.
“I honestly have no idea,” I admitted, shrugging. “Try it.”
Clover blew softly on the flame, but it only flickered in confusion.
“Here, toss it back,” I offered.
She did so and watched as I caught it in both hands and then exhaled slowly on the flaming mass, causing it to grow to the size of a basketball. I held the flame between my two hands, grinning proudly.
Clover smiled in amazement. “You Bloodworths and your crazy talent.”
The best part about the student body at Under Realm Academy was that no one really got jealous of each other. At least not between the witches. After all, witches were community-based types. We formed covens with one another and trusted each other with our lives. If one witch had a talent that another didn’t, it wasn’t a source of competition. Rather, it was a welcome addition to the community’s strength.
Maybe other species weren’t like that, but I loved that witches recognized that everyone had different skills and strength.
After the witches finished training their practical skills outside, we came indoors to hit the books.
Hence my current location, indoors on a beautiful autumn afternoon, hunched over a stack of papers that was making my head hurt.
It was an application for the Potions program at Brayton University that I desperately wanted to be accepted to. It was one of the most competitive Potions degrees in the world and boasted the best facilities, best professors, and best opportunities.
Some of the most famous Potions Masters in the world had attended Brayton. I’d give anything to be one of them.
Unfortunately, I didn’t really have a way with words. I was struggling with my personal essay, unsure how to elaborate just how much I loved Potions, but with little success. Every attempt sounded too cheesy or too pandering.
If I only I could’ve just brewed a potion that would express to the Board of Admissions how much I wanted to join their program. I would be a lot more confident in my application if that was the case.
I sighed heavily and glanced around the room, unable to stay focused. Much to my amusement, I realized I wasn’t the only one who was distracted. Kendra was gazing at a table on the other end of the room, chin in her hands, metaphorical stars in her eyes.
Giggling, I chucked my pen at her.
“Earth to Kendra,” I whispered, smirking.
Kendra pouted and waved her hand, using her air affinity to boomerang my pen back at me.
I dodged it expertly and shot her a wink. “You couldn’t be any more obvious,” I hissed.
Oliver glanced up at our conversation, clearly unsure what I was talking about.
Kendra bit her lip and, mostly addressing Oliver, said, “Okay, fine… but, you have to keep this under wraps. Witch’s honor.”
Oliver nodded, quirking an eyebrow.
“Luca asked me out at the dance,” Kendra told him, keeping her voice low. “And we’ve sorta been… talking.”
He gasped, his face lighting up with a grin. “Luca Romanov?”
Unable to contain my excitement for a moment longer, I cut in. “Yes, Luca Romanov. At the Halloween dance, he was all nervous and asked me if I thought Kendra would be into him. Of course I said yes.”
Kendra giggled. “Well, technically, at the time, I wasn’t that into him.”
“He’s clearly managed to charm the pants off you now,” I teased, waggling my eyebrows at her as her gaze once again slipped over to the small group of senior necromancers studying by the opposite windows.
Oliver snorted.
Kendra swatted my arm slightly, pretending to be scandalized. “The pants are staying on, Moira Bloodworth.”
“Well, regardless of pants dynamics, I’m happy for you, Kendra,” Oliver said. “Necromancers are so cool.”
Hoping that it didn’t make it too obvious, what with all three of us staring over at them, I risked a glance at the table where Luca sat. Oliver was right. The crowd of necromancers that Luca hung out with were what Under Realm Academy would probably consider the cool kids. They all had a vaguely rebellious vibe about them.
Maybe it had more to do with the fact that they could talk to the dead and less to do with how cool they actually were. Still, basically everyone in school wanted to be friends with them.
I was delighted for Kendra. Ever since I first met her in our first year, she was more interested in classes and homework than she was in boys. It had been agonizing for me on a number of occasions, especially since most of my brain was occupied by thoughts of adoration for Calder Darkmore. Seeing Kendra finally have an almost-boyfriend felt like a small victory for me.
Oliver and Kendra returned back to their books, but, curious, I continued to watch the necromancers at Luca’s table.
Their method of studying was different than ours. It involved a lot of meditation. Not as much headspace-occupation as the soul reapers underwent, but enough.
Necromancers also used a lot of incantations and various enchanted items, which is what made their kind of magic the most similar to that of witches. Over the years, necromancers and witches were usually closely-knit and the friendliest combination of species.
I mean, according to those boring history books, we even fought wars together.
The necromancers at Luca’s table were all sitting quietly, eyes closed. They seemed to each
be holding objects in their hands and were totally zoned out. Luca’s back was to us, so he wouldn’t have noticed Kendra staring. I wished he had because I knew he wouldn’t mind.
My eyes unwillingly slipped over to a familiar figure sitting opposite Luca.
Ugh. Him again.
Aidan Grimsbane was, of course, a necromancer. He was also, according to popular opinion—not my opinion, mind you—cool. Obviously, he would be good friends with Luca and join his little study group.
I thought back to the dance, when I was having the strange reaction to whatever rash flare-up my body had decided to start experiencing this school year. The burning itchiness, coupled with the pain that sliced down my spine, had caused my cheeks to flush and my temples to glisten with sweat.
Unfortunately, it all happened in front of Calder.
Even more unfortunately, Aidan took it as an opportunity to appear out of nowhere and humiliate me.
Like, what was his issue?
I watched Aidan, eyes closed, lips fluttering as he muttered something under his breath. I wonder which dead person he was attempting to contact. Perhaps one of those goth rock singers he liked so much.
Suddenly, as if he could read my mind, Aidan’s eyes shot open and immediately focused on mine, even though we were at least thirty feet away from each other. His eyes were dark. Not dark like a demon’s, nor black like the Briar Academy dragon shifter’s eyes. They were more like the color of freshly brewed coffee. Espresso maybe.
At the sight of me clearly staring at him, his focused gaze and mouth immediately transformed into an amused smirk. His dimples popped out with the expression, revealing a face that appeared misleadingly innocent. He cocked a single eyebrow at me in question, clearly entertained by the fact that his favorite victim had been watching him meditate.
With a scoff, I turned back around.
“I can’t stand that guy,” I grumbled.
“Who?” Kendra didn’t bother to look up from her notes.
“Aidan Grimsbane, of course,” I replied.
“Hmm,” Kendra responded. “He does seem to have it in for you.”
I scowled. “It’s like he’s obsessed with humiliating me. Everywhere I turn, it’s like he’s there waiting to point out one of my many flaws.”