Familiar Magic (Druid Enforcer Academy Book 1)

by C. S. Churton

  “Um…” I rooted through my pocket, where I still had the email I’d printed off before leaving. “Room eighty-five. How am I supposed to know what branch I want to study if I don’t even know what they are?”

  We pushed through a set of double doors marked with a plaque that read ‘Trainee Accommodation’ and started along the corridor, checking door numbers as we went.

  “This way. Didn’t your Law professor go through them all with you at the start of your third year?”

  I chewed my lower lip, not sure I wanted to answer that. I got the feeling my new friend had studied hard to be here, and planned for this for a long time, and me… well, it had just landed in my lap. I didn’t want to fall out with her.

  “Spill it. I’m not like some of these idiots you’ll meet.”

  “I didn’t really know I wanted to train as an enforcer until the end of last year. I guess Cauldwell pulled some strings to get me in here.”

  “As in, Head Councilman Cauldwell?” She raised an eyebrow, and I ducked my head, but not before I caught the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Friends in high places, huh? Can you make people disappear, too – like bonehead back there?”

  She jerked her head in the general direction of the main hall – or at least, what I thought might have been the general direction of the main hall. I shared her smile, relieved she wasn’t telling me I shouldn’t be here, which apparently was what everyone else thought.

  “I wish. Cauldwell’s more likely to make me disappear. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  “He must like something about you if he got you in here,” she pointed out, as we came to a stop outside of a door. I pulled out my sheet of paper again and checked it against the number. We were in the right place.

  “Yeah, well, you know what they say about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

  I didn’t think Cauldwell really thought of me as an enemy. More as… an inconvenience. Of course, there was that time he’d threatened to have me thrown in Daoradh, but I liked to think we were past that now.

  I grabbed the door handle, but I’d only pushed the door open a crack when my nose started to twitch. I shoved it the rest of the way open and the stench hit the back of my throat. I doubled over, somewhere between gagging and coughing, and clamped a hand over my mouth. Zara reached past me and yanked the door closed.

  “What the hell was that?” I said, once I’d stopped wheezing enough to speak.

  “Stink hex. Someone’s idea of a joke, I bet. Or a welcoming present.”

  “Great.” I slumped back against the wall with a loud groan. “Don’t suppose you happened to notice if there were any windows in there?”

  Zara shook her head. “No idea. But you can’t stay in there, that stench could take days to clear out. There’s a spare bed in my room. Grab your stuff, you can crash with me.”

  “Can we do that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re not at Dragondale anymore.”

  “Probably explains why no-one’s tried to kill me for a while.”

  “I’ll open the door,” the short-haired girl said, “and you grab your stuff. On three. Ready? One. Two. Three!”

  I pinched my nose shut as she shoved the door open, and I ducked past her. My bags were lying right where I left them – thankfully my visitor hadn’t decided to mess with my stuff, because there was no way I’d have been able to hold my breath long enough to repack. It had taken forever to cram my stuff into those suitcases. I snatched them up with one hand, not unpinching my nose with the other, and tossed them outside, then tossed myself out after them.

  Zara slammed the door shut, and I took a big gasp of the clear air. She shot me a grin.

  “Welcome to Krakenvale.”

  Chapter Four

  I hesitated outside the innocuous wooden door, one hand raised. The single brass plaque read ‘Head Instructor’ and didn’t even have a name on it. But there was only one head instructor at the academy, which meant I was in the right place. Time to bite the bullet and find out what I’d done wrong. I sucked in a deep breath and knocked.

  “Come in,” the voice called from within.

  I opened the door and stepped through into a modest office. It had a large oak desk, two chairs, and not much else. Set to one side of the room were a couple of bookcases, but even from here I could see the layer of dust covering half of them. The desk itself had several stacks of paper piled on it, and several more surrounding it, and as Elias looked up and saw me, he set a sheet aside, then rose to his feet.

  “Ah, Lyssa. Thanks for coming.”

  “Is this a bad time?” I asked, looking around the barely organised chaos. “I can come back…”

  He followed the direction of my gaze to the reams of paperwork and shook his head with a rueful smile.

  “Those are pretty much a permanent fixture. Running an academy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Please, have a seat.”

  He grabbed a pile of papers off one of the chairs and dumped it on the desk, and I smiled my thanks before sinking into it. In my more-extensive-than-I’d-like experience of being summoned into people’s offices, being asked to sit down was usually a good sign. If he just wanted to yell at me, he’d have left me standing. Probably.

  He settled back into his own seat and regarded me across the desk.

  “Is this about me being late? Because I promise, that’s not a habit, there was just a mix-up–”

  He held up a hand, cutting me off, and smiled.

  “Relax. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I was just wondering how you were settling in?”

  “Um…” Given that I’d just got here, it was hard to say, but it seemed like it might be a little rude to point that out. “They seem like a mixed bunch here.”

  He nodded and steepled his hands.

  “Yes, I’m guessing you’ve had quite the welcome.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “I’ll be honest, Lyssa. Things may be… tough for you here. You’ve probably already realised that Krakenvale Academy is male dominated. Over the last few decades we’ve tried to bring more women into the enforcers, and I’ve been keen to support that. But we’ve had limited success. There are only four in this year’s intake. I’m pleased you decided to join us.”

  My brow furrowed, and I did what I always did when I was anxious – opened my mouth with zero regard for what was coming out of it.

  “So I’m just here because I’m a girl?”

  It was true, then. I didn’t deserve to be here. Cauldwell had pulled some strings to keep me quiet, and Elias had accepted it because I happened to be born female.

  “No.” Elias shook his head. “Things don’t work like that round here. I have the final say on all admissions, and I wouldn’t have accepted you if I didn’t think you had potential. I know what happened in the battle. I’ve read the report.”

  “There was a report?”

  “There’s always a report.”

  “Right.” I slumped in my seat. So I was here not because of Cauldwell pulling strings or Elias pulling a PR stunt, I was here because by some lucky accident I didn’t die when I rode a gryff into the middle of a spell. I wasn’t sure that was much better.

  “Don’t look so glum. That’s a good thing.”

  “But?” It seemed like there was probably a but coming.

  “But,” Elias inclined his head, “your gender isn’t the only thing likely to make it tough for you round here.”

  Oh, joy.

  “You’re starting off behind the other students in some subjects, which is why I asked you to see me.”

  “Spellcrafting?” I hazarded. Since I hadn’t planned on becoming an enforcer this time last year, I hadn’t bothered to take Spellcrafting, which was a prerequisite for enrolling at Krakenvale. Which meant I was a whole year behind, and honestly, I hadn’t had much aptitude for it to start with.
r />   “And some of your other grades were a little lower than we’d normally accept.”

  “Oh.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be here,” Elias added quickly – because I’d never been much good at keeping my thoughts off my face.

  “It just means I’m going to have to work harder to prove I belong.”

  “Yes. I’ve spoken to Glenn, our spellcrafting instructor, on your behalf, and he’s willing to give you some extra lessons. You’ll need to see him to set them up, and I highly recommend you do. You’re going to find some of the spells here challenging, if you don’t.”

  “I will,” I promised, and watched my spare time disappearing before my eyes. Catching up a whole year was going to take more than a couple of days of lessons – although admittedly having an instructor who didn’t kick me out within thirty seconds of every lesson starting might make it a little easier.

  “Good. I’ll be following your progress closely, Lyssa.”

  *

  Our first class was something called ‘Combat Magic’, which sounded both awesome and terrifying at the same time, and it was hard to tell which of us was more excited – me, or Zara. We fell in behind the rest of the first-year trainees on the way to the lecture room, who, judging by the volume of their chatter, were all just as excited as us. I mean, Combat Magic, what wasn’t to be excited about? Other than maybe getting beat up, obviously. That part didn’t sound particularly fun, but if I wasn’t used to getting a little roughed up by now, then I never would be. And I wasn’t about to prove Smartarse Hot Guy right by looking anything less than completely confident.

  I scanned the faces around us, but I couldn’t see him. Huh, odd. Or not – there were about ninety of us heading into the lecture room, I guess it’d be pretty easy to overlook him. And he might not even be here. Actually, judging by his cockiness yesterday, I’d bet he wasn’t. I didn’t figure him for a first year. And then there was the whole black trim on his cloak thing…

  The lecture room looked like a large high school gym, complete with the sprung floor, high ceiling, and irritating echo. A few dozen rows of chairs had been laid out, and I grabbed Zara’s arm, leading her towards some seats at the back. There were no tables, so I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to take notes – it wasn’t like a laptop was going to be working in here – but at least if we were at the back, no-one would see me frantically trying. Because it seemed a fair bet I’d be behind in this class, too, what with the whole eighteen year head start they all had on me in all things magic.

  Everyone settled into their seats around us, and the chatter died down as they stared expectantly at the single figure standing at the front of the room. He turned around.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hissed. Zara frowned at me.

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s him! Smartarse Hot Guy.”

  “Who?”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but he started talking.

  “Alright, everyone, listen up. My name is Killian, and I am your Combat Magic instructor.”

  “Shiiiit.” I slouched further in my seat. Not only had I made an enemy on my first day, I’d made one out of my first instructor, in probably the coolest subject they taught here. This really wasn’t my week.

  “My job is to teach you how to use your magic as a weapon, both defensive and offensive. But I can see right now I’d be wasting my time.” He strode forward and looked round the room with a sneer. “I doubt there’s a single one of you ready to learn what I can teach. Get up. On your feet, everyone, now.”

  We all shared confused looks, and clambered to our feet. A low murmuring swept the room.

  “Let’s get something straight,” Killian shouted above the noise, his voice sharp as a whip, and everyone fell silent at once. “The other instructors may be lenient with you, but I will not. You will bring your absolute best inside these walls. Nothing – and I do mean nothing – less than your complete focus is acceptable. Do I make myself clear?”

  A few heads nodded, which Killian seemed to take for class-wide assent.

  “Good. Stack your chairs. We’ve got work to do.”

  Five minutes later, we were all bare-foot, and I realised there was a reason this room looked a lot like a gym – that’s exactly what it was. It was pretty apparent there wasn’t going to be a whole lot of theory going on today. The chairs were all stacked at the back of the room, and our bags stowed under them.

  “You can start with twenty laps around the room.”

  The murmurs started up again, until Killian fixed us with a glare.

  “What are you waiting for? Get running. First person to stop can give me fifty push-ups. Go!”

  Crap, he was serious. I groaned and fell in behind the rest of the trainees as we started a shuffling jog round the perimeter. Zara settled in beside me, but I couldn’t help but notice she looked a little more reluctant than me.

  “No-one warned me there would be torture,” she complained.

  “Come on, it’s just a little run.”

  “Oh no.” She eyed me suspiciously. “You’re one of those fitness freaks, aren’t you?”

  I shrugged without breaking my stride. “Gryff rider, remember? You want torture, you should see what my old team captain used to put us through.”

  I blushed as I pictured Logan, and ducked my head. His team fitness regime had been brutal, but it had made me the rider I was, and I’d kept it up when captaincy had been handed down to me and Devon last year. And just as well I had, what with all the attempted murder. I knew one thing – if Killian thought he was going to scare off the four girls in the room with a little exercise, he was going to be disappointed. And I was going to make sure of it, personally.

  I kept with the pace easily enough – my pre-match warm up tended to be more intense than this – but by the time the first ten laps were done, Zara was already red-faced and breathing heavily. A couple of guys barged past us with a snigger, and Zara glared after them, ducked her head, and pushed on harder.

  “That’s it,” I said. “Don’t let those idiots show you up. You can do it. We’re halfway done!”

  “Only halfway?” she gasped. “I’m going to die.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re going to kick arse.”

  “I’m going to collapse on it, more like.”

  “Not on my watch. Steady breaths. And, uh, think of something else.”

  “Something other than coughing up a lung?”

  “Preferably.”

  “Like how you’re not even breathing heavy? Fess up, what sort of monster are you?”

  I laughed. “The stubborn sort. Like you, right? Since you’re here, I’m guessing you didn’t give up the first time someone tried to put you off being an enforcer.”

  She gulped down a breath and shook her head.

  “Nope. Nor the second.” She gasped another breath. “Or the third.”

  “Then you’re not going to let a little jog put you off, are you? Nine laps to go.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Yeah?” I grinned, turning around to face her and jogging backwards a few steps. “Then tell that to my face, not my arse.”

  And with that, I turned and kicked up the pace. Not too much, just enough to push her a little harder. Nothing like a little friendly competition to make you forget your lungs had been replaced with napalm.

  She survived the run, which Killian seemed to take as a personal affront. Looking around, it was clear we’d fared better than half the group. Dozens of students were bent over, gasping, and some were still shuffling round the hall at little faster than a walk, clutching their sides. I guess they hadn’t figured being enforcers would involve much running. One of the other women was in the shuffling group, and I scanned the group for the last. Elias had said four – me, Zara, the shuffler, and… I caught sight of a wave of brunette hair. The woman it belonged to wasn’t hunched over, struggling to breathe, which was good, because I figured we didn’t need to give Killian any mo
re ammunition. Instead, she was leaning casually against a wall, looking like she’d barely broken a sweat. She turned her face in our direction, and my breath caught in my throat.

  What the hell was Paisley doing here?

  Chapter Five

  She locked eyes with me across the hall, then jerked her head away abruptly. Zara, in the process of downed half a bottle of water, swallowed with a frown.

  “Someone you know?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “From Dragondale.”

  “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don’t think she wants to be your friend. Or anyone’s friend.”

  Paisley was standing alone, ignoring the other trainees as they milled around, drinking from water bottles and breathing heavily. Paisley, of course, was doing neither. A little jog round a gym didn’t bother you when you had werewolf stamina. And when you’d recently become an outcast, you didn’t waste too much time making friends, either. Paisley had trust issues. And who wouldn’t?

  I could feel Zara’s curiosity burning a hole in me while I processed the shock of seeing Paisley here. She hadn’t said a word about it back at Dragondale – not that we were what you’d call close, but still. We’d fought together against Raphael. I thought she might have confided in me about this.

  I also hadn’t figured the enforcers for being the tolerant sort – Killian and the boneheads being case in point. Hybrids weren’t outlawed, strictly speaking, but relationships between druids and shifters were heavily discouraged. Not that I paid much attention to that, given that my best friend was a hybrid. And the reason that Paisley had become one. Was it any wonder she hadn’t confided in me?

  I said none of this to Zara. I was pretty sure, given that there was no pointing and no over-loud whispers, that the other former Dragondale students here hadn’t let the werewolf out of the bag yet, and I wasn’t going to be the one to let her secret out. Let her enjoy some peace while she could. Or at least, as much peace as she could get with Killian on the prowl.

  I grabbed Zara’s arm.

  “Come on, best keep moving around before Killian decides we need to do more laps.”