Supernatural Academy: Freshman Witch

by Ingrid Seymour

  “How did it make it here?” Rowan asked.

  “That is anyone’s guess,” Dr. Henderson said, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands.

  “Is Disha okay?” I asked.

  “She’ll be fine,” Dr. Henderson said, without lifting his head. “She just needs rest, and I do, too. I’ll make sure she gets back safely when she wakes up. Now, if you please, would you leave and let us rest?”

  “But—” I began.

  Rowan put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right,” he assured me. “We should go.”

  We walked to the door, but not without a few backward glances at our friend.

  “Use the back door,” Dr. Henderson ordered before we left.

  Rowan and I were sitting on a bench by the Enlightenment Fountain, staring at our feet.

  No words had passed between us since we’d left Dr. Henderson’s apartment. We’d walked here in a sort of stupor, lost in our own thoughts. The events since we’d chased Disha out of the cafeteria kept playing in my head over and over, a hundred scenarios of how she could have died adding themselves to the horror. Damn my overactive imagination!

  “I don’t believe him,” Rowan finally spoke in a low growl. “Do you?”

  “Dr. Henderson?” I asked, still feeling awkward. We hadn’t spoken about him grasping my hand after Disha’s exorcism, yet I felt it hanging between us.

  “Yeah,” he nodded, angling his body in my direction. “He knew right away what to do, what kind of demon had possessed Disha. How?”

  “You heard him. Dean McIntosh warned the staff about it.”

  Rowan stood and started pacing in front of me. “That’s if it’s even true. I don’t trust him.”

  The late morning sun shone on his brown locks, making them appear golden. My own brown hair was darker, so it would never look like that in the sun. His tight shirt allowed a precise view of his chest as he breathed in and out in agitation. I blushed as my mind tried to imagine his pecs and abs under the Henley. I glanced away and figured I probably needed a plunge in the cold fountain. That should drown my traitorous hormones.

  “W-well…” I stammered, “you must trust him enough since you decided to take Disha there,” I said. “Plus, he helped her. She’s gonna be okay.”

  “I only took her there because they…” He pressed his lips into a thin line.

  “Because... they... what?” I enunciated each word as his meaning revealed itself to me. “Oh, shit!”

  “Yeah, shit is right,” Rowan said.

  “I’m so stupid.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Why didn’t I see it?”

  All she’d said from the beginning of the school year was “Henderson this and Henderson that.” It was so obvious now. Why didn’t I put it together before? They were having an affair.

  Rowan sat back down, sighing in frustration. “I didn’t see it either. Not ‘til a few days ago. He broke it off, and she lost it.”

  “So that’s why she’s been so upset. God, poor Disha.”

  “It’s for the best,” Rowan said. “Henderson should never… It’s against the rules. They would both get kicked out if anyone finds out.”

  “Disha would be devastated,” I said. “She loves it here.”

  “Now you see why I don’t trust him?”

  I nodded. “Still, do you think he would be capable of releasing those creatures inside the school? I mean, that would make him a subversive, and he’s a teacher here. Why would he want to hurt the school or the students?”

  “Power, Charlie. It’s always power, and the Academy has a lot of it,” he added, lowering his voice, eyes darting toward the fountain to make sure no one was near. “You know there is a portal on campus, right?”

  I nodded. I’d read about it in the welcoming package, which I’d made sure to practically memorize after that incident with the pixie minotaurs. From what I read, there were several portals all over the world, and one of the most powerful was here at the Academy. Portals were interconnected conduits of magic that allowed travel between them but were also incredible sources of magical power. I briefly wondered where the Academy’s was located. The package had said few people knew the locations of the portals, and they safeguarded the knowledge in order to keep the world safe from power-hungry crazies.

  Just then, it occurred to me that Rowan Underwood was talking to me about the attacks and who he suspected. Did that mean he didn’t believe I was one of the bad guys anymore?

  “We need to find out if it’s true that Dean McIntosh warned the staff about the time demon,” Rowan said, his brown eyes dancing around as if searching for ideas.

  We?

  Well, I wasn’t about to contradict him. Rowan knew a lot about what was going on, and the more I learned, the closer I would be to finding out who was responsible for Trey’s death. I’d promised his urn more than once that I would avenge him.

  “Would your father know?” I asked. “Does he go to staff meetings?”

  “Not always, but it’s a good place to start. I’ll ask him tonight. In the meantime,” he stood, “we should go back and get rid of that stuff in the garden shed.”

  A chill ran across my back. I didn’t want to go back in there, which must have shown in my face because he added, “My father said they’ve received several letters from parents already. They’ve been questioning the safety of the school. If something bad happens again, the dean will have to close the Academy and send everybody home. That can’t happen.”

  He seemed very adamant about this, desperate even. Why? His intensity seemed odd, as if his life depended on it. It was not like he was homeless and would have nowhere to go if they closed the school. Me, on the other hand…

  I jumped to my feet. “Let’s go then.”

  Terrifying or not, I helped him clean up the carcass.

  An hour later, we headed to Dean Underwood’s office. When we got there, Rowan instructed me to wait in the girls’ bathroom down the hall, assuring me that dear old dad wouldn’t take kindly to me tagging along. Still, Rowan promised to brief me directly afterward so we could decide what to do.

  Mutilated animals. Satanic demons. This was not what I signed up for.

  While waiting in the bathroom, I let water rush over my hands as I scrubbed and scrubbed, but I couldn’t wash enough times to get that poor, dead dog’s blood off. Rowan had tried to convince me it was a badger as we carried its husk out of the shed, deep into the wood and set it ablaze with an incinerating spell, but I knew better. Someone was going without their beloved Fido tonight, all because of some maniac.

  A maniac we had to track down before they closed the school.

  Images of me sleeping in a burnt-out husk of a building flashed in my brain. No. That simply could not happen. Not when I finally felt like my life was going somewhere. Rowan and I would figure out what was going on.

  Rowan and I. That was an interesting phrase. Did he still loathe me, still suspect I was a subversive hell-bent on taking over the school’s magic? He must not if he was telling me his trusted secrets.

  Like the fact that, right now, he was in his father’s office, about to learn whether or not what Henderson had told us was true. Did the faculty know about the time demon being loosed on the world or was that a lie Henderson used to cover his tracks?

  But what was taking so long?

  I glanced at the wall clock anxiously. It had already been twenty minutes. What were they doing, rehashing old fishing trips?

  The clock also let me know I had missed all three of my classes today. Not great, considering I was one of the worst witches here. Disha was going to have to help catch me up when she was well again.

  Speaking of Disha, I didn’t feel right leaving her behind with Dr. Henderson. If they’d been truly having an affair, was it a good idea for them to be alone? But then, what did I know about healing someone possessed?

  Nada.

  I walked to the door and opened it, scanning the hall for Rowan. The administration building was pretty qui
et, a few people walking in and out, but Rowan was not one of them.

  It shouldn’t take this long. Something was wrong.

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the bathroom door and stepped out. Dean Underwood’s office was the third on the left. I stared at the polished wood door and the opaque glass inset with his name stenciled on it. Rowan would be mad if his father found me lurking outside, but then, if none of them heard my approach, who would be the wiser?

  “Time to put your money where your mouth is,” I whispered to myself, readying my hands.

  We had learned a simple cloaking spell a week ago in Dr. Henderson’s class, and I had nailed it with Disha’s help. I hadn’t attempted it since, but it seemed only fitting that I do it now, using Henderson’s spell to try to ascertain if he, himself, was the thief.

  Stretching my fingers, I ran over the motions in my mind, hoping I remembered them correctly. Otherwise, I might come out of this with two heads.

  “Here goes nothing.”

  Taking a deep breath, I performed the spell.

  I tilted my hands, blowing out my breath as I channeled the image in my mind—me invisible in this hallway. My concentration was focused on my body and the flow of magic.

  A door slammed, jarring me out of my thoughts.

  When I came out of the spell and opened my eyes, I found that my body was invisible, but only from the waist down.

  “Shit snacks,” I murmured, extending my hands to try again.

  Footsteps headed in my direction cut me short. No one should see me like this outside of the administrative offices. Panicked, I jogged away from the footsteps, tucking myself into the little nook that led to Dean Underwood’s door.

  The door was cracked open, and, without even trying to, I could hear Rowan and his father speaking.

  “—disappoint me at every turn. I told your mother you weren’t cut out for it, but no, she begged me to take you on, let you get more involved, show you the wizarding ways. She said you could handle it. That you would be an asset to me.”

  It was Dean Underwood speaking, but he sounded like he was admonishing a soon-to-be-fired employee, not speaking to his son. My stomach twisted at his tone. I’d heard a similar one from my own father when he’d been one or two bottles into one of his drinking binges. At least it sounded like Rowan’s mother supported him and believed in him. My mother had been the same, always telling me I could take on any challenge that came my way. It seemed Rowan and I had that in common, one parent who truly looked out for us. At least he still had a family while all I had were bittersweet memories.

  “I’m doing my best,” Rowan said. I could barely see his outline through the frosted glass.

  Dean Underwood sighed. “That’s the worst part. If this is your best, then what are you even doing to help with this investigation? You showed promise early on, but lately… even your grades are an embarrassment. I should send you back to your mother.”

  “No,” Rowan answered forcefully. Then he backed off a bit. “I’ll try harder. I’ll get the answers you are seeking, bring up my grades.”

  “You’d better.”

  A chair creaked. I could just picture Dean Underwood tilted back in his chair, so nonchalant after browbeating his son.

  “I want dirt on Answorth ASAP. I want him out. We can’t take any more chances. And I want to rub it in McIntosh’s face when we do it. Protecting him. Claiming he’s only got the school’s best intentions at heart. Ridiculous. He’s a Lesser for God’s sake.”

  “Yes, father,” Rowan answered.

  I heard another chair creak as if Rowan were standing up. Footsteps headed my way. I had to get out of there. But Dean Underwood’s last words stopped me in my tracks.

  “One more thing, son. That foolish Rivera girl. You’ll stay away from her if you know what’s good for you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  FALL SEMESTER

  MID DECEMBER

  “Field trip day,” I sing-songed to Disha as I plopped down next to her at our regular cafeteria table. I placed her favorite coffee and muffin in front of her, before chowing down on mine.

  Disha glanced up with tired eyes, picking at her breakfast.

  “Whoopie.” She twirled an unenthusiastic finger in the air, before using that hand to support her drooping chin.

  My friend was finally well, taking two days to recover in her room before venturing out to classes again. When I’d gone to visit her and bring her snacks, she’d spilled everything—how the love affair between her and Dr. Henderson had started while doing private tutoring, how absolutely infatuated she had been with him, and how he’d broken it off a few days before.

  But, when she started describing their toe-curling sex, I waved the white flag. I didn’t need to hear about my professor’s favorite positions. Gag me with a pitchfork.

  This was a case of helping a friend get over an ex, which happened to be something I was good at. I’d helped Trey when the girl from the coffee shop broke up with him via a message written on a napkin. I could help Disha out of this.

  “On today’s docket… At ten AM, we have a field trip, AKA our final exam. At noon, lunch on the lawn, picnic-style. And at three, I got that cute boy from class to agree to drive us to the salon for manicures.” I waggled my eyebrows enthusiastically. I didn’t mention I had to sell some of my hand-me-down clothes at the consignment shop in Aberdale to pay for them.

  Disha barely moved. This girl had it bad.

  “Okay. That’s fine. Today is going to be fine,” I said to her and myself. “Come on. Let’s have a nice walk in the sunshine to cheer us up before the field trip.”

  “It’s an exam,” Disha moaned.

  “To-mato, to-mah-to.” I took her hand and dragged her to the main doors.

  Last week, Professor Answorth had explained that our semester Mentalism exam would take place outside the classroom. For that, the class had been instructed to meet him at the school’s historical museum on the far side of campus, one of the few buildings I’d never visited because it was such a hike.

  The good news was Disha wasn’t wearing heels because she didn’t have anyone to impress. Her expensive sneakers would speed our walk along nicely.

  The twenty-minute trek with her grunting and moaning answers to my questions wasn’t exactly pleasant, but we got to the museum without surprises. After the events at the shed, the fountain and the labyrinth, I was always nervous on the grounds. Who knew when something would pop up and try to kill you?

  This line of thought brought me back to Rowan, who I’d been trying to erase from my mind. To my utter disappointment, he’d failed to show up to fill me in on what his father had said, which gave me the hint that he and I were no longer working together. Daddy had made that very clear, and apparently Rowan was following his orders to perfection since he’d completely avoided me in the last few days.

  I was still steamed about how his father had spoken about me like I was common trash. And Rowan hadn’t uttered one word in my defense.

  Rude.

  As Disha and I walked up to the museum, we clustered with our classmates at the base of the steps, waiting for Professor Answorth. I could quickly see why this structure was separated from the others. Unlike the stately brick buildings and manicured gardens that made most of campus look like a magical Cambridge, this building was… bizarre.

  Appearing as if it had been pieced together by four different architects, each section had its own style. The left wing was austere, postmodern, and composed of sleek lines and right angles. The surface shimmered as if made of a million diamonds, forcing me to shield my eyes from the glare.

  In extreme opposition, the right wing was constructed of natural materials like wood and stone, with ivy vines climbing up the rounded Hobbiton-style windows. Moss crowded in the nooks and crannies and I half expected to find a gnome or fairy peeking out of one of the many oval windows.

  In the center, the main entrance seemed like something straight out of a Salvador Dali painting
. The arches sagged and the pillars leaned as if the foundation had shifted in an earthquake and no one had bothered to fix it. Even the steps leading to the entrance tilted, giving me a sick, vertigo feeling.

  “Was the architect on drugs?” I asked Disha.

  She either didn’t hear me or was deep into something on her phone.

  Another girl, who I’d seen in class but never talked to, leaned in to answer. She had short, black hair and a nose ring, going for that cute punk vibe.

  “That’s what I thought at first, too,” she laughed. “They’d have to be on drugs to come up with this mess, but I read somewhere that the five heads of the magical schools that founded the Academy created the museum together. Each wing is decorated in that person’s style to show that—even though there are different types of magic—they can all work in harmony to create something beautiful.” She gestured to the building.

  “Oh. That’s cool. Thanks.” I smiled at her.

  “You’re welcome.” She held out a hand heavy with rings. On her exposed wrist, a magicked dragon tattoo slithered under her skin.

  I took her hand and shook it. “You’re Georgia, right? I’ve seen you around. I’m Charlie.”

  She tilted her head at Disha. “And she is?”

  Disha tapped on her phone.

  “She’s… in a funk,” I added, patting Disha on the back. “Boyfriend trouble,” I whispered.

  “Ah,” Georgia nodded knowingly. “That’s why I avoid them all together.”

  I snorted, thinking instantly of Rowan who didn’t appear to be in attendance yet. Not that I was noticing.

  “So... Georgia, did your parents name you for our beloved state?”

  She rolled her eyes. “They think they are so clever. They won’t be laughing when I put them in the world’s worst retirement home.”

  I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, but I liked her style—sarcastic, take-no-prisoners, and funny. I’d seen her in classes before, but we’d never spoken. In fact, I hadn’t spoken to most of my classmates, spending all my time with Disha, but with her semi out-of-commission, it was nice to have someone answer my questions with something other than a grunt.