Nightworld Academy: Term Two

by LJ Swallow

But what the hell happened yesterday?

  Professor Turlington skilfully makes one of the academy’s most interesting lessons into the most boring by droning about safety measures and the consequences of abusing potions. I’m aware how much some kids here create and abuse them. A couple of ingredient switches here and there, and a Potion of Alertness becomes an Elixir of Euphoria. Personally, I couldn’t deal with the side effects, or the trouble if caught using the wrong one.

  Maeve perks up a little when the professor informs us that we’re putting some theory into practice, and we’re offered a selection of recipes to choose from. I use this as an excuse to pull my chair around and away from the edge, allowing myself closer to Maeve.

  She chews on her lip as she runs a finger along the list on the page. “I feel like I’m choosing a cocktail.”

  “That’s one thing to avoid,” says Jamie. “Don’t mix potions.”

  “I won’t. I doubt I’ll manage to concoct the right ingredients for a potion—I can’t bake a cake without burning it.”

  Amelia chuckles. “This is a bit different to baking.”

  “Same principle,” I put in. “And don’t worry; we can help. Jamie and Amelia have made potions since they were at primary school.”

  She widens her eyes. “Isn’t that dangerous for little kids?”

  “Oh, it was only mixing colours and tastes. Like human kids who use fake tools and pretend to build houses.” Amelia smiles.

  “Right.” Maeve pushes hair from her face and straightens. “Do I get to choose which potion?”

  “Sure.” I wave a hand.

  Lips pursed, she runs a finger along the list. “I want to try this one. I’d like some peace in my life.”

  She points at the recipe for the Tranquility Potion, one which calms people’s nerves and sharpens their focus. I’ve used this on nights I can’t concentrate on studies because I’m fired up from rugby matches.

  “We definitely need to get those ingredients right.” Jamie turns the book and notes down what’s needed. “If we get this wrong, the opposite will happen.”

  “Such as?” asks Maeve.

  “You’ll be a little over-exuberant.” Amelia smiles at me. “I know what you’re going to say—more exuberant than me.”

  “High?” asks Maeve.

  “Not quite. Enthusiastic. Unable to settle. Students deliberately mess with this potion to make something to keep themselves awake. Like a caffeine boost multiplied by a thousand.” Jamie eyes me.

  And what does it matter if I’ve done this?

  “This practical lesson counts towards our term’s grades,” puts in Amelia. “Nobody can mess this up.”

  “Yeah,” I add. “I’m useless at the theory exams. I need to do well in the practical.”

  Groups approach the high wooden benches and Maeve makes a teasing comment about cauldrons as we join them but looks disappointed by the Bunsen burners. Jamie pulls out small dishes, pestle and mortar, and clear glass bottles, clean and ready for potions.

  “That’s to heat up herbs we need to infuse, or items we need to melt. Measuring and mixing is the fun part.”

  “Apart from when the catalyst explodes.” I smirk and Amelia pouts at me. “Sorry, I’m sure that won’t happen again.”

  “We all make mistakes, Ash,” says Jamie tersely. “I’ll find the wyrmroot.”

  Amelia sucks her lips together as she watches him go. “He worries me. Now I know what he’s facing, I don’t think he’s coping.”

  I’ve sensed this too. He’s thrown himself into studying—even more than usual. He loves the library, but recently the place has become his second home. Jamie also doesn’t want us with him at the library and tells us he can’t concentrate. The guy needs to find something else to do.

  “We’ll keep an eye on him. All of us,” I say, watching him walk back over.

  Jamie places a handful of dried herbs on the table. “I think this is enough.”

  Maeve picks an empty bottle up and studies it, avoiding my eyes. Then she places it down and pokes at the mortar and pestle. “It’s cool to finally make potions.”

  I scratch my ear. “Maeve, what happened with your aunt?”

  She mashes herbs in the pestle. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fine,” I grumble and sink back, crossing my arms.

  “Ash, I don’t mean never. I mean now.” She leans across and her cheek almost brushes mine. “Meet for a drink before the next class. I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  My heart speeds at her words and her closeness. The thought she might’ve seen me die too crosses my mind and I shiver. “Have you had any visions recently?”

  She shakes her head. “Not for a week.”

  “Maybe you’re fighting them?” I suggest.

  “I don’t know, but I feel useless. This is supposed to be my gift, and I’m failing.”

  I rub her arm. “You’ve had a lot of change to cope with. Maybe your brain needs a rest.”

  “I wish that were true.” She smiles at me. “Thanks for caring. It helps that I have people around who do.”

  “Of course,” I say and fight moving closer. Each day I’m with Maeve, every minute I spend growing closer intensifies my deep need to protect. I’ve never felt this before, even though it’s part of my shifter nature—protect those I’m close to.

  My instincts and desires will take over for one person: a girl who’ll burrow into my heart and soul. One I can’t live without. I never expected this, because I can’t shift yet. How can I feel a bond?

  I also never expected the girl I link with to be a witch. I tell myself I’m making a bigger deal about how I feel than I should, but I can’t deny that the reaction I have to Maeve is more than my usual teen lust. This isn’t kids’ stuff.

  I’m bonding to a witch.

  Chapter Fifteen

  MAEVE

  I’m awed as the whole class focuses on creating potions, from the quiet mingling of liquids and weird-sounding ingredients to the lightning flashes inside glass vials, and the silver liquids that pour thick and solidify.

  The Tranquility potion is easy enough—just three ingredients. Wyrmroot, moonleaf powder, and witches' tincture added to water. The rare moonleaf must be left to mature for five months once collected from Alpine peaks and powdered, and my hand shakes as I measure the correct amount. Professor Turlington’s warning about wasting a precious commodity rings in my ears, and I panic when some sprinkles next to the bowl.

  Jamie takes it from me and squeezes my fingers. “Don’t stress.”

  “I’m scared I’ll screw up my first potion.”

  “You’re fine.” He directs me what to do next, and I carefully follow his instructions. Then he passes the vial to Amelia. “Can you agitate the water’s energy? It’ll save time.”

  She chews her lip. “I would, but last time I tried, I screwed up. I had green stains on my uniform for a week. I couldn’t get them out until my mum sent vanishing liquid, which finally worked.”

  “I have confidence in you.” Ash claps her on the back.

  We all stare at Amelia in anticipation; Jamie won’t allow her to avoid this and she finally relents.

  Amelia cups the bottle in the palm of her hands, half-obscuring the cloudy contents. She closes her eyes and her shoulders relax as she focuses on the spell. People chatter around us, some concentrating like Amelia, and others conjuring sparks inside their vials.

  Amelia’s fingers tremble as the water inside agitates. Jamie told me he’s often frustrated with Amelia’s lack of confidence, which holds her back from her full potential. I don’t know the whole story about Matt, or her sister, but does that have an effect?

  I’m nervous for Amelia as the water swirls, changing from clear to bright blue as the moonleaf powder blends in. She snaps her eyes open, and a huge smile spreads across her face. “It worked!” she says breathlessly.

  Jamie smiles too. “Told you.” He takes the vial and peers inside. “The potion looks
the right shade of blue, and the vial is warm. I reckon this is perfect.”

  Amelia’s face glows, and I’m as happy as if I’d created the potion myself.

  “Can I see?” I ask.

  Jamie hands the potion to me and I stare at how ordinary it looks. Does this weird set of ingredients really create something magical?

  A loud pop across the room pulls me from my curiosity. Someone swears loudly, and Andrei stands over his desk glowering at the mess on the table. A thick silver liquid creeps across the wood, spreading slowly and glowing. Professor Turlington rushes over in alarm.

  The liquid continues its movement towards the edge of the table, and Andrei doesn’t touch the broken glass. He swears again and glances around the room from beneath his hair.

  “That’s what happens when you don’t study the theory properly, Mr. Tepes,” retorts the professor. “What potion were you attempting?”

  He mumbles something I can’t hear, and Nikolai, who sits beside Andrei, nudges him in the ribs.

  “Why would you want to create that?” asks Professor Turlington.

  “Yes.” Katherine smirks. “Who were you going to use that on?”

  “Shut the hell up,” he growls. “I’m practicing the easiest potion. Or, I thought I was.”

  The class stops their activities to watch the exchange, and I’m mad with Katherine for her mocking Andrei. She strikes me as the sort of person who ignores her own failings by highlighting other peoples’. I’d lay bets she’s an insecure person under all her perfection.

  “Clear it up, Nik,” says Andrei, and he heads to the door.

  “What the hell?” protests Nikolai, as the professor calls for Andrei to stop and return to the classroom.

  The door slams behind Andrei.

  The silence in the room continues as everybody waits for the next event in today’s performance. Jamie huffs. “Andrei needs to sort his attitude out.”

  “Do you know what he was making?” I ask.

  “If it’s silver, I’d hazard a guess a Potion of Silence or Potion of Wealth.”

  “Wealth?” I ask. “Isn’t Andrei’s family loaded?”

  Ash shrugs. “Those potions have side effects, anyway. He’s an idiot if he tries that. The Silence can backfire the same as the Tranquility, and you spill your deepest secrets.”

  “And they’re difficult to make.” Jamie waves a hand. “No idea why he said he’d chosen the easiest.”

  “Omigod!” shrieks Katherine, and again the class enjoys a spectacle to distract them from class. “Andrei splashed me with his failed potion! Look at my hair!”

  She holds a fistful, pointing at the lower couple of inches. “He dyed my hair lime green.”

  “I’d say that was more fluorescent green,” says Ash, and she throws a filthy look across the room at him.

  “Will this wash out?” she asks the professor, face thunderous. “It better bloody had! I have nothing to wear that matches this.”

  I choke a laugh.

  Professor Turlington pulls spectacles from his inside jacket pocket and places them over his nose. He peers at Katherine’s hair. “I’m afraid this will take a few days to fade. If you’d followed procedure and tied your hair up, this wouldn’t have occurred.”

  “If Andrei wasn’t incompetent, you mean.”

  “At least only the ends are coloured,” offers the girl beside her.

  Katherine bites down on a nail, eyes flashing, and doesn’t reply.

  Jamie shakes his head with a laugh. “Come on, your turn, Maeve.”

  “Me?” I stare down, picturing my desk matching Andrei’s if my potion explodes too.

  “Jamie,” says Ash in warning. “This is a group project.”

  “Don’t you want to try making your first potion?” he asks me.

  I chew my lip and look over at where Nikolai gathers glass and throws it in the bin, muttering. The whole class stares at him.

  If I do the same, the whole class will focus on me. Again.

  “I helped measure out the ingredients. Maybe next time.” I give Jamie a hopeful smile. “I can test the potion if you like. How do we do that?”

  I uncork the bottle and sniff. The potion smells sweet—of violets and sugary sweets.

  “Professor Turlington has extraordinary senses,” Amelia says, still glowing with pride. “He can tell from the colours and density.”

  “Huh. I’d hoped we could try them out,” I say.

  “You can take them with you,” says Jamie. “Try them later. They’re innocuous. When we make advanced potions next year, we can’t.”

  “What type of potions are advanced?”

  Ash and Amelia look at each other. “Potions and elixirs with greater effect. Such as Illusionary—something that makes the imbiber a ‘blank canvas’. Whoever sees the person then projects who they expect to see onto the person who drank the potion.”

  I scratch my face in confusion. “So, they transform into a different person?”

  “Only in somebody else’s eyes. You don’t actually change yourself.”

  “How about invisibility?” I ask hopefully. “That would be cool.”

  Jamie shakes his head. “That’s a spell.”

  “I’m looking forward to making some of these,” I say, and wave a hand at the potion recipe book.

  Ash chuckles. “Finally, a class Maeve enjoys.”

  I shove his shoulder. “Ha ha.”

  We busy ourselves clearing up the equipment as Amelia takes her potion to the professor for grading. She returns and hands the vial to me. “Here. Try this later, but don’t drink a lot.”

  I stare down at the glassful of blue liquid. At my old school, we’d take home food we cooked in home economics class. I guess we cook different things to cakes here.

  Chapter Sixteen

  MAEVE

  We leave class, but Ash hangs back to ask the professor a question.

  “I need to talk to Ash about something,” I say to Jamie and Amelia. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “We’re headed to the common room before bed,” says Jamie. “Meet us there?”

  “What do you want to talk to Ash about?” asks Amelia. “Remember your promise about secrets.”

  “I do, but this is personal. Between me and him. Don’t worry, I’m not hiding anything that affects you or the group.”

  “I hope not.” She pouts.

  I give her a hug. “I promise. This is something that’s Ash’s decision if he tells you.”

  Ash appears in the doorway and immediately looks to me. “Ready to talk to me about your aunt yet?”

  I blink at his abruptness. “I said I would.”

  “Good.”

  Potion carefully tucked into my bag, and goodbyes given to my other friends, I wander along the hallway with Ash. “Where should we go to talk?”

  “Too cold outside.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this too publicly,” I say. “I’d rather not go to a common room or the cafeteria.”

  Ash looks up and down the hallway where a few stragglers wander by, deep in conversation. Most students were eager to leave the academy building and return to their houses for socialising before bed.

  “Here?” I sit on a spare desk between two classrooms. My other concern is Katherine seeing me, or anybody else who wants to spread rumours about Ash and me. She was out of the building in seconds after class, no doubt to fix her hair. “There’s nobody around.”

  “Sure.” He stands opposite me, hands in pockets. “I haven’t spoken to you since you saw your aunt yesterday. I began to think you were avoiding me. Obviously, Jamie and Amelia know everything.”

  “I only saw her yesterday,” I protest. “And I was upset afterwards, so I wanted time to myself. I only told the others because it’s hard to hide from friends in my own house.”

  “Oh.” He straightens. “Are you alright now? Did somebody help?”

  Tobias. “Yes. Amelia was helpful.”

  “What’s she like? Your
aunt.”

  I take a deep breath. “Unusual. She can’t tell the difference between the future and the present sometimes. I came away confused—and worried in case I became like her.”

  “I’m sure you won’t,” says Ash gently.

  “But how can you know that?”

  “There must be ways to stop you heading the same way.”

  I swallow. By letting people die. Leaving the future intact. “I’m sure Sofia and Theodora will have ideas,” I say weakly. “Being a future-sighted witch isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  Ash rubs his lips together. “Yeah. So is being a shifter.”

  I tip my head. “One day you need to explain to me about your brother and the witch connection.”

  “One day,” he says dismissively. “Tell me what you know about your past now.”

  I blink at his abrupt manner again. “To be honest, this situation completely puts me off the idea of children.”

  Ash cocks a brow. “You’re a bit young to talk about having children.”

  “But I wouldn’t want to create somebody like me.”

  “You mean an intelligent, caring person? No, I can see why that’s bad.” He pokes me.

  I purse my lips at his sarcasm. “You know what I mean.”

  “We could all say that, couldn’t we? My kids will be shifters. Sometimes I think that’s a curse too.”

  “But that’s just who you are—your race.”

  “I know, but we have our own issues. What’s most important to me is I can achieve what I want—join the confederacy army.” His eyes brighten, jaw set in determination. “I don’t think a family and kids would match that lifestyle.”

  I laugh. “You’ve thought about kids too.”

  He rubs a hand across the top of his head, changing the subject again. “Did your aunt see anything in your future?”

  “She was vague.” I give a half-smile. “Apparently, I’ll become Winter Queen.”

  Ash makes a mock gasp. “Now that’s a dangerous prediction. Don’t let Katherine know.”

  “That’s a future I feel like changing.” I push hair from my face. “Maybe I won’t go to the ball.”