They nodded, and the instructor beamed.
“Excellent. Let’s write it on the board. What are your names?”
He grabbed a whiteboard marker and jotted their names on a board that took up half of one wall. I cringed inwardly. It was worse than being back at school, with your name up on the board for everyone to see how much – or how little – progress you were making. I couldn’t read the headings from here, but Iain marked a box in one column beside Xavier’s name, and a box in a different column for the other three.
“Good work. Back to your seats, you three. Xavier, wait here a moment.” He turned back to the rest of us. “Next group of four, please.”
Four more trainees at the front of the hall got to their feet and made for the door. More than one of them eyeballed Xavier’s bear with a mix of apprehension and envy. Once they were through, with their noncorporeal escort in tow, Iain closed the door, and turned his attention to us again.
“Some of you may find you bond with a familiar on your first visit, as Xavier has. Others may find it takes two or three sessions. The important thing is that you establish an initial connection. Once you’ve done that, you can focus on strengthening that connection until the familiar is willing to build a bond with you. Most druid-familiar bonds last for a lifetime, so there’s no sense in rushing it.”
He tossed the marker back on his desk and picked up a book from a stack.
“If you do find yourself able to bond, you’ll need to carefully document each stage of your bonding. You’ll be required to keep this record for life, and it will become part of your familiar’s official registration with the circle.”
He passed the book to Xavier, who accepted it with a solemn nod.
“You can start by logging your familiar’s characteristics, and its name, if it has chosen to share it yet.”
Xavier swaggered back to his seat, with the bear lumping along beside him. When he sat, the bear sat next to him, loosed a belligerent bellow at the trainee in the row behind, and then set about cleaning its paws.
I was starting to see what Iain meant about the familiar choosing its druid according to their character – the pair of them seemed well matched.
“You will be responsible for the actions of your familiar whilst on this plane,” Iain continued. “That includes when they are not in your sight. Your bond won’t be strong enough to influence their behaviour when they’re away from you yet, so if you’re not able to be with your familiar, you will release them back to the astral plane. We’ll be talking about how to do that later today.”
Iain continued to explain the intricacies of familiars, their behaviour, and the bond we would eventually share, as well as all the legal implications that came with it. Groups came and went from the forest, until I was surprised to learn almost all of them had been through. Over ten of the students had bonded with a familiar – from otters to eagles and even a gecko – and those that hadn’t had at least forged the first steps of a connection.
The instructor glanced at the board as he jotted down the outcome of the last group to return.
“Right, there are four of you left. Let’s have you, then.”
I rose to my feet and Zara and Kyle stood with me. Iain had said four, though. I wasn’t sure who else would be left. If fate was in a good mood, it wouldn’t be one of Xavier’s buddies. I was anxious enough as it was.
I scanned the other students as I made my way reluctantly to the front of the room – not that I was reluctant to find a familiar, that part sounded awesome, but what if none of them chose me? Or I ended up with like, a caterpillar, or something? And how was I supposed to know which one was right for me? There were so many things I could get wrong, and I was getting to be an expert at looking like an idiot.
I exhaled heavily. Who was I kidding? I didn’t just look like an idiot, I was one. It was the only explanation for how I’d landed myself at an academy where half of the students hated me, and nearly all of them were waiting for me to fail.
Which wouldn’t be today. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. I’d earned my place here – maybe not the same way as the rest of them, but I had earned it. And honestly, if I’d survived ballet classes with two left feet – thanks, Mum – I could survive anything.
A fourth figure rose and wound her way to meet us at the enchanted doorway, head down and dark hair spilling around her face so that it was impossible to make out her features. Not that I needed to. There was only one person here who moved like that, and who was enough of an outcast not to have had a group of friends to go through with.
“Hi, Paisley,” I said. She lifted her head long enough to scowl at me but said nothing. I shrugged and turned my attention to the doorway.
“Right, when you’re ready, then,” Iain said, holding the door open.
I took a breath and crossed the threshold.
Gone was the harsh lighting of the lecture room, replaced with a heavy gloom. The sounds of the students and the faint echo of the lecture room stopped dead, like someone had hit a mute button, and then as my ears and eyes started to adjust, I realised it wasn’t so much a heavy gloom as a gentle dusk, and it was about as far from silent as it was possible to be. The entire place hummed with energy.
I was in a forest of sorts, surrounded on all sides by trees and bushes and the subtle sounds of life. In the distance, I could hear what might have been a brook or a small stream bubbling, and a soft wind disrupted the branches in a way that was more peaceful than eerie. Directly in front of me was a narrow dirt track, and at my back was the open doorway – but rather than the old cupboard door it had been from the lecture room’s side, it was a rustic archway with a portal rippling between its pillars, and flowers and vines winding across the wood. I could feel a gentle pulse of energy from it, and through the portal I could see the lecture room, though it had a strange, surreal look to it.
My three friends came through – though, granted, I’d have to admit ‘friend’ might be a stretch when it came to Paisley, given that she still hadn’t spoken a word to me – and Iain’s familiar followed behind. The translucent fox seemed completely at home, and, as I watched, his body seemed to become more solid, until he looked no different to a real fox, and I was sure that if I stretched out to touch him, I would connect with something solid.
A hand from beyond the threshold pulled the door shut, and I jerked my eyes from the fox. The dappled light caught Zara’s face in a strange way, and I frowned and waited for my eyes to adjust. I took a tentative step closer, and stretched my hand out to her face, which seemed as translucent as Jalen had been only moments before. The light touched my hand and I gasped, pulling it back and staring at it in wonder.
“Cool,” Zara said with a grin. “Guess we’re the spirits here.”
“We’re in the astral plane now,” Kyle said. “It makes sense that it would affect our bodies in the same way entering the physical plane affects theirs.”
“Cool,” I agreed. “Does that mean we can walk through walls and stuff?”
“I’m not sure there are any walls round here,” Zara said, eyeing the dense foliage.
“Do you three ever shut up?” Paisley snapped and stalked past us.
Zara shot me a quizzical look. “I thought she was your friend.”
“Yeah, I might have overstated that, just slightly.”
Paisley’s shoulder twitched like she was itching to turn round and lay into me, and I exhaled heavily as I started down the track behind her. I genuinely had no idea what I’d done to upset her. We’d worked together back at Dragondale, and I thought she’d liked me. Or at least, hadn’t hated me, but it looked like I’d been wrong about that. But this wasn’t the time to worry about who I had or hadn’t inadvertently offended. I needed to find my familiar and form a bond.
If only I had the slightest idea how to do that.
I wasn’t sure Paisley knew where she was going, but I knew I didn’t, and I also knew it probably wasn’t a great plan to get separated, so I str
etched my legs and kept up with her long stride, while Zara and Kyle followed.
Paisley tossed a glance in my direction and lengthened her stride until I was almost jogging to keep up. After a moment, she whirled to face me.
“Why are you following me?”
“I just thought…” I glanced back at the other two, but they’d fallen behind. “I thought maybe you could, you know…” I lowered my voice further. “Smell something.”
She barked a bitter laugh.
“Smell a spirit? Are you serious?”
“But I mean, well, we’re the spirits here, right?”
She gave me a withering look that made me regret opening my mouth. Sometimes, it was easy to forget she’d been a close friend of Felicity’s. Other times, not so much.
“You really have no clue, do you? Maybe if you’d tried studying instead of waltzing into Krakenvale like you owned the place, you might have the first idea about how any of this worked. But that’s not what you do, is it? Everything lands at your feet, and you just accept it like it’s your God-given right.”
“I…”
“What? You what?”
I shook my head, relieved when Zara and Kyle chose that moment to catch up with us.
“Forget it.” I looked away from her. “Sorry I said anything.”
She moved down the track again, and this time I didn’t follow.
“Guess the reunion didn’t go so well, then?” Zara said.
“What gave you that idea?” I snapped, then held up a hand. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“No worries,” she said. “You’re only human.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I think that might be the problem.”
Chapter Nine
I headed off before they could ask what that meant, but they were both scoring higher on the diplomacy scale than I was right now, and kept their questions to themselves. I wished I’d done the same. I had no idea how I was supposed to focus on finding my familiar when Paisley’s words were ringing in my ears. Worse, I knew there was some truth to them, much more than I wanted to admit. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.
“Which way?” I said, looking around the forest. “Keep following the track, or… leave it?”
I peered off into the trees, but I wasn’t sure I much fancied venturing in there. The darkness seemed much heavier under the dense canopy, and I wasn’t completely sure I wouldn’t get lost. I also wasn’t completely sure that wasn’t a pair of eyes watching us from within the leaves.
“Don’t stare,” Kyle said, his voice low and deliberately calm as he gave a gentle tug on my sleeve. I abruptly jerked my eyes to the ground in front of my feet.
“Unless you familiar is an ant,” Zara said, and I could hear her grinning, “I don’t think you’re going to find it down there. Just don’t stare directly at the spirits unless they approach. You’ll be fine.”
“How do you guys know all this?”
I caught the look the pair of them shared, but I couldn’t quite decipher it.
“What?” I asked.
“Well, it came up when I was studying,” Kyle said. “For the entrance exam.”
Zara nodded her agreement.
“You sat an entrance exam? Don’t answer that. Just fill me in – what else do I need to know to not get dead in here?”
“I’m pretty sure nothing’s going to take the trouble to kill you,” Zara said. Kyle raised an eyebrow and she amended quickly, “Well, probably not, anyway. It’s easy. Just imagine you’re meeting your in laws for the first time, and one of them has a huge bogey hanging from their nose.”
“That…” I turned the words over in my head. “…actually kinda helps, thanks.”
Although I wasn’t sure how helpful the image of a massive bogey was going to be when I found my familiar and was trying to keep a straight face.
“I think…” Kyle said, staring off into the foliage on the other side of the track, “I think I’m going to go that way. I’ll see you two later.”
I stared after him for a long moment until Zara nudged my arm.
“Come on, let’s keep moving. There’s nothing for us here.”
She was right, I could feel it. Nothing out there had an interest in either of us, beyond idle curiosity, and I didn’t get the sense that was a strong enough foundation for a bond. It would take more than that for a spirit to join us and leave this place, I felt sure.
I started along the track again, moving more slowly this time, examining the foliage and the dark spaces between it. Sometimes eyes stared out at us, but I took care not to stare back. Being rude was a poor start to any relationship, though it did seem to be a specialty of mine, especially when I didn’t mean to.
“Do you see that?” Zara said, pointing off at something through the trees. I started to shake my head, then stopped as the light glinted off something and narrowed my eyes, peering into the gloom. No, wait. That wasn’t sunlight reflecting off anything, it was a whole different source of light. Dozens of them. Like tiny…
“Fireflies!” I gasped.
And then I understood why Paisley had rushed off on her own, and why Kyle had gone stumbling through the foliage. Because there was absolutely not a shadow of a doubt that I was going to reach those fireflies. I could hear them calling to me somewhere deep inside, where my magic lived.
I stepped carefully through the foliage, lifting my feet and placing them delicately on the bare earth, not so much for fear of tripping myself up (though, being naturally gifted with zero grace despite the ballet, that was a concern) – but because my stomach twisted at the thought of damaging anything inside this plane, anything that marked the path to the fireflies and their haunting lullaby that I could feel inside my soul, if such a thing existed. I could hear Zara moving behind me, but I didn’t turn to watch her progress. I was too caught up in my own. I stared at them as I grew closer, unable to take my eyes from their elegant dance, and in my haste, I caught my foot in a tree root and almost sent myself sprawling to the soft earth. My arms windmilled through the air, and somehow, I stayed upright. Apparently, though my body was incorporeal, I was perfectly able to interact with – and fall over – the foliage here. I stowed that information away, and forced myself to move more slowly, but the thought of the fox coming back and summoning me away before I reached the fireflies was unbearable. Unthinkable. I drove it from my mind and pushed on.
And then I emerged from the trees, and found myself in a small, sheltered grove. Trees lined the perimeter, creating a perfect circle of bare grass, and the fireflies drifted lazily in the middle. As I stepped onto the short grass, the fireflies vanished, as if they’d never been there, but rather than feeling bereft by their absence, I felt at peace – more at peace than I could ever recall having felt before. I turned to Zara.
“Do you feel that?”
She inclined her head in a solemn nod. “We’re not alone.”
“No.”
Watching from the trees were dozens of pairs of eyes, some large, some small, some close to the ground, and some high in the branches. And one by one, the creatures stepped into the clearing, dozens of them, each of a different species, and some changing from one species to another as they moved – a stag to a fox to a wolf to a horse – flickering seamlessly between the forms in the time it took me to blink.
They moved all around us, watching us with steady eyes, and swishing tails, twitching ears, and placing claws, paws, hooves, and talons precisely as they moved with each cautious step.
I bowed my head and lowered my eyes, skimming just a little above the grass. Overwhelming sense of peace or no, I really didn’t want to offend any of them and get eaten. I wasn’t strictly sure on how a corporeal form ate an incorporeal one, and frankly, I had no inclination to find out.
A doe paused a dozen feet away, stretching its head towards me. Its nostrils quivered as it sniffed the air, and then it shook out its neck and turned away. Not that one, then.
I shot a gl
ance in Zara’s direction, and saw that a half-dozen of the spirits had closed in around her, sniffing her and watching through amber eyes. None of them had ventured that close to me. What was it Iain had said? Trancework?
I lowered myself to the ground, moving slowly so I didn’t startle any of the familiars and induce a bout of druid-eating, and crossed my legs. I hadn’t done much trancework before, but I knew the theory. Relax your body, empty your mind.
Both of which were easier said than done right now.
I took a deep breath, held it in my lungs, and released it again. A short distance away, Zara was following my lead, though I could already see a sparrow hopping about on her shoulders.
I turned my attention forwards again, keeping my breathing slow and my hands in my lap. I was nowhere even close to a trance yet, and unless we had hours to spare, it was unlikely I was going to manage it. But the spirits seemed to respond to my calm, drawing closer again.
Three seemed interested in me, currently in the form of a wolf, a jaguar, and a lioness. I wondered if I should be concerned that they’d all assumed the form of predators. I also wondered if I should be worried about the size of their teeth, what with the whole eating people thing hanging over us.
The jaguar ventured closer than the others. It was a young, scruffy looking creature that, had it been a physical animal, I would have said was no more than a few months old. A cub. Its amber eyes blinked as it watched me, and its long tail lashed through the air. I nodded to myself. I could feel it, too – the intensity of its interest, and the weird, almost magnetic pull between us. This one, I was sure of it.
I lifted my eyes, just a fraction, watching its movement as it stalked through the grass with inexperienced clumsiness, and my lips twitched. Like me, it seemed to be new to all this, and like me, it was struggling to find its feet.
It paused, a metre or two from me, and its nostrils flared as it tested the air. I froze, not even daring to breathe as it looked at me. It lifted one paw and eased closer, and closer again, until it was almost close enough to touch. I stilled my hand, keeping it locked in my lap. Somehow, I knew I shouldn’t make contact before it touched me.
Familiar Magic (Druid Enforcer Academy Book 1) Page 6