“She’s … sleeping in.”
A single dark eyebrow rose on Eli’s face. “Yeah? That doesn’t sound like her.”
I dropped my gaze from his face. “She, um, didn’t sleep well, I don’t think.”
“That makes two of us.” Eli yawned again.
It was the perfect opening, so I started to ask him why, when a loud bang stopped me. I jumped, my heart rate going from resting to overdrive in a split second. My eyes searched for the source of the noise.
Nick Jacobi had knocked over the bench he’d been sitting on. He and Oliver Cook stood across from each other, both shouting and with hands raised in a defensive position. Magic hummed in the air between them like a live wire. The two looked fit to kill. It seemed their little magical roughhousing had gotten out of hand. Neither was playing games now.
Nick’s glamour had slid off him, revealing his true form beneath—black, scaly skin, a single stubby horn on his forehead, and eyes that glowed red. He was an Ira demon, a rage demon, the kind that fed off the anger of others. Consequently, Iras had hot, dangerous tempers themselves.
Oliver, too, was looking more his natural self, his body thinner and taller, oddly treelike, and far less intimidating than Nick.
“This is bad,” I said.
Across from me, Eli had already stood and was heading for the demon and dryad.
I moved to stop him. “Don’t!” Without magic he would get crushed.
Too late, Eli had grasped Nick’s arm and pulled him around before he could attack Oliver. A howl of rage exploded outward from Nick. He shoved Eli in the chest with both hands and Eli flew back, crashing into the upturned bench.
Nick’s rage remained focused on Eli. He charged toward him, ready to strike again. I jumped up, my mind racing for the right spell to stop the demon, but panic made it hard to think.
I raised my hand. “Alexo.” The shield spell burst out from my fingertips in a streak of purple light. But before it could form over Eli, it vanished. But that was impossible. Stuff like that only happened when The Will was in place.
I opened my mouth to cast the spell again, but before I could, Nick froze mid-attack. His body was jerked into the air as if hoisted by an invisible pulley.
I gaped up at him as he struggled against whatever unseen bonds held him.
Eli got to his feet and stepped over to me. “You all right?” He touched my arm, sending tingles over my skin.
I huffed. “Oh, right. Worry about me, because I’m the one that just got tossed like a football by a pissed off—”
I broke off when I saw four strange men entering the cafeteria. They looked as if they’d gotten lost on their way to a Renaissance festival. They wore waist-length red robes like some kind of tunic over black pants. Sweat broke out on my skin, and all my muscles contracted from a sudden spurt of terror at their appearance—bloodred on black, just like Marrow had worn.
“Who the hell are they?” Eli moved closer to me as if he intended to shield me with his body.
The men marched farther into the cafeteria, silence spreading out before them. I looked around for a teacher or staff member, someone who could tell me whether or not it was time to make a run for it, but I didn’t see anybody.
The nearest man headed right for us. He carried a wizard’s staff that he held before him, pointed directly at Nick’s floating body.
A few feet from Nick, the man came to a stop. He looked like a retired prizefighter with his massive square jaw and squashed nose. His shoulders seemed wider than his arms were long. The scowl he leveled first at Nick then at Eli, and finally at me, made the hairs on my arms and neck stand up.
“That’s enough rule breaking for one morning.” The man made a downward slash with his staff, and Nick crashed to the ground with a loud thud. He let out a groan then scrambled to his feet. His black, scaly skin and horn vanished as his glamour slipped back into place.
“Who are you?” Eli demanded, placing his hands on his hips.
A low murmur echoed around us. I wanted to disappear into the cracks in the stone floor. I didn’t know who this guy was, but one thing was for sure—he wasn’t somebody you should challenge unless you could back it up. In the ordinary world, Eli was badass enough to take on anybody, but this was the magical world.
A wide, toothy grin stretched across the man’s face. “Me? Why, I’m the Captain of the Will Guard.”
Will Guard, like Will-Workers. Well, at least I could dismiss my original fear that these guys were Marrow supporters come to take over the school. The gold insignia on the left breast of the man’s tunic bore the Magi Senate crest of the tree, wand, and flame, symbolizing the three sects of magickind: naturekind, witchkind, and darkkind.
“What’s the—” Eli began.
The man tapped his staff against the floor, and Eli made a choking sound, reaching for his throat. Some kind of powerful magic crackled in the air around us. I grabbed Eli’s arm, trying to steady him.
“What did you do?” I took a step toward the man, outrage belying my better judgment to stay quiet.
In answer, the man tapped the staff again. An invisible hand seemed to grip the back of my throat and tongue. I tried to shriek, but no sound came out. It was some kind of gagging spell. I remembered my mom using the same spell on me whenever I started to make a scene in public when I was little. I knew from experience it was best not to fight it. I forced my body to relax, and at once the pressure in the back of my throat eased enough that I no longer felt like I was going to hurl.
With a self-satisfied glint in his eyes, the man turned away from me. Resentment made my skin burn. This guy had no right to come in and start casting spells at students. And after all the stuff with Marrow, I wasn’t about to just cower down to him because he might be here on Magi business. I reached out with my mind-magic and tried to grab the staff from his hands. Without access to their magical instrument, a witch or wizard couldn’t perform most magic.
Some unseen force blocked my way. The man jerked his head in my direction then smirked before turning back. He motioned toward the overturned bench with his staff and it righted itself. He stepped onto the bench and then on top of the table. He turned in a circle, surveying the room.
The cafeteria was absolutely silent, all eyes turned on this stranger. In a loud, gruff voice, he said, “My name is Captain Gargrave. I am head of the Will Guard. We have been sent to Arkwell by the Magi Senate to perform the duties of The Will. This means that all the combative magic violations you students have been perpetuating these last few chaotic months have officially come to an end.”
Another murmur went through the crowd, this one tinged with something like defiance. It wasn’t that we couldn’t do magic before The Will. It was just that people didn’t dare try most spells for fear they would be restricted. I didn’t think this Will Guard was likely to have much luck reinstating that kind of fear, not now that everybody had gotten used to the freedom.
Captain Gargrave must’ve sensed that rebellious spirit as well for he said even louder, “If you dare to challenge my authority or the authority of any of my men, you will reap the consequences.” He made an upward slash with the staff.
Nick let out a yell as he was hoisted into the air again. This time Captain Gargrave spun him around in several fast, nauseating circles. Eli and I both backed up instinctively, in case Nick tossed his cookies.
Just when I thought Nick was going to lose it, Captain Gargrave let go and Nick dropped to the floor again. He landed hard, but still on his feet. Gargrave stepped down from the table without another word. As he passed me, I felt the gag in my throat lift. The captain joined the others, and they started patrolling the cafeteria.
Eli and I exchanged a look. I could tell he was anxious to talk about what just happened, but we both knew it was better to let things settle down so we weren’t overheard.
His stomach grumbled. “I’ll be back in a minute,” Eli said, before stalking off to the breakfast line.
I sat down ag
ain as the silence in the cafeteria slowly began to dissipate. But the conversations remained subdued and nobody was doing any magic, legal or otherwise. I glanced at Gargrave who was eyeing the crowd like a hawk on the hunt. Way to make a nasty first impression, dude.
I had a feeling the nasty was only getting started.
4
Tragical History
While I waited for Eli, I contemplated my eggs and bacon for a couple of minutes, and then got up and threw the contents of my breakfast tray into the garbage. Something inside the trash can growled, and I realized too late that I’d forgotten to sort out my silverware. A moment later the fork came hurtling out of the can like a missile and whacked me in the forehead.
“Hey,” I said as I rubbed my stinging skin. Good thing I hadn’t used a knife this morning.
A head covered in scraggly brown hair emerged over the top of the can. The trash troll fixed a glare at me with its huge black eyes. It looked like a really ugly, twisted version of a Mr. Potato Head with a head and torso twice as long as its stubby legs and arms. It bared its teeth at me, mumbling incoherent words.
It dawned on me that I was being scolded. By a trash troll. Glaring, I shooed at it. “Go on, get back in there. It was just an accident.”
The troll muttered something more then stuck its tongue out at me before disappearing. I backed away from the trash can, on the lookout for more projectiles. It seemed even the trash trolls had developed their own spirit of rebellion, same as us students.
Eli arrived back at the table at the same time I did, his tray laden with food. I sat down across from him and watched with mild interest as he began shoveling. “Looks like the senate finally decided to do something about all the fighting,” Eli said between mouthfuls.
“It’s something all right.” I flashed a scathing glance at Gargrave. “But I’m not sure it’s the right something.”
“What is it?” Eli’s gaze locked on my face.
“Someone attacked Britney Shell last night.”
He stopped mid-shovel, a bit of egg falling off the tip of his fork. “What? How? What happened?”
I spent the next few minutes telling him about my adventures last night. He was thrilled at my success on getting such good details out of the sheriff, but when I got to the part about the almost-Paul, Eli dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clang. “He was in the dream?”
I flinched at the vehemence in his tone. It was deserved—Paul had betrayed both of us to Marrow—but I was the one he’d pretended to date for several weeks leading up to it. I should be the angry one, but mostly I wanted to forget it.
“Yeah,” I said, “but I don’t think it was actually him. He looked different. And Lady Elaine said it didn’t mean anything since Britney’s not a dream-seer and her dreams are just dreams.” Good thing, too, I thought. Or you would be a suspect in the attack by now.
The bell rang before Eli could ask any more questions. I waited while he dumped his tray with considerably less trouble from the trash troll, and then we walked together to homeroom. For reasons unbeknownst to us, Eli and I had the exact same schedule. I didn’t mind. Any excuse to be with him. And walking was the best part, the way he leaned into me, our bodies touching more often than not. Every time his hand brushed against my fingers, my heartbeat lost its rhythm as I hoped that this would be the time he would finally take hold of my hand.
The morning announcements lasted three times longer than usual. The principal started off reminding us for at least the hundredth time about volunteer opportunities still available for the Beltane Festival on May first. They’d been hyping the festival for months now. Normally, Arkwell held its own celebration on campus, including a dance, the magickind equivalent to prom. But this year marked a centennial for the foundation of Lyonshold, the capital city of magickind in the United States, and the Magi Senate decided that the students should join the huge celebration. Volunteers would get to do stuff like light the bonfires and dance in some of the rituals.
Yeah, there was a negative two percent chance that I would volunteer for such a thing. Still, I was looking forward to going as a regular spectator. I’d never been to Lyonshold. Since it was hidden on a magical island somewhere in the middle of Lake Erie, students only visited during holidays and celebrations. Or capital trials, I supposed, thinking about Paul.
Next Dr. Hendershaw went into a detailed, and wholly unnecessary, introduction of the Will Guard. Then she delivered even more bad news when she informed us that not only was the Guard authorized to use magic on us, they could also hand out detentions.
Awesome.
Afterward, Eli and I headed to first period.
“So I wonder who attacked Britney,” Eli said as we walked along.
“No idea.”
Eli glanced down at me. He was so tall my head barely reached his shoulder. “You know that the Dream Team is going to have to investigate this, right?”
I scrunched up my nose, a little embarrassed by the current name of our amateur detective agency. But Eli had picked it and that made me love it a little bit, too. “Aren’t we supposed to wait until we get hired before investigating?”
He snorted. “Eventually. But until we get established, we’re mainly pro bono.”
“Hey,” I said, my brain making a sudden and completely unrelated connection. “Why wasn’t Lance at breakfast?”
Eli looked puzzled but said, “I think he’s sick. I had to turn off his alarm because he slept through it. When I woke him up he was really out of it so I just let him go back to sleep.”
“Huh.” I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking it over. “You don’t think he was out after curfew, do you?”
Eli shrugged. “Probably. I didn’t see him at all last night. I had dinner with my dad off campus and didn’t get back to the dorm until late. He wasn’t there.”
We arrived at the classroom and took our usual seats toward the back. “Didn’t that seem a little weird to you?”
Eli set his bag on the floor, chuckling. “This is Lance we’re talking about. He sneaks out all the time to set up his pranks.”
“Oh, right.” I scowled at the memory of one of Lance’s pranks that had been directed at me. A few hours before my restroom-cleaning detention with Ms. Hardwick last semester, Lance had stopped up every toilet and sink in the first-floor bathroom of the administration building. I still needed to pay him back for that.
“Why are you so concerned about Lance this morning?” Eli paused, frowning. Then he rolled his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you think he attacked Britney, because that’s absurd.”
I scoffed. “Shouldn’t we consider everyone a suspect until proven innocent?”
In truth, I hadn’t been thinking about Britney at all, but Selene. The idea that the two of them were out together might be far-fetched, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities. Selene and Lance had dated for a while freshman year, and over the past few months they’d been developing a strange love-hate relationship, not exactly friends but not quite enemies either. Lance had been pretty upset about Selene getting hurt during our fight with Marrow, although he never admitted it outright. I only knew from Eli. Selene refused to believe it entirely. But there was no denying that every time the two of them were together the air seemed to crackle. Maybe they’d finally given in.
That would explain Selene’s reluctance to tell me. I’d be ashamed of a midnight rendezvous with Lance Rathbone, too. Sure, he was good-looking, but he was also a bona fide jackass with a capital J.
“Yeah, well,” Eli began, but he broke off as a girl with long brown hair entered the room. His ex, Katarina Marcel.
Actually everybody in the classroom went silent at Katarina’s arrival. She was a siren, same as Selene; only she didn’t go around trying to downplay her beauty. Just the opposite. Today she wore a tight, sage green top that laced up the front and a pair of skinny jeans. She looked like she’d just stepped off the runway at a fashion show. Her beauty was so mesmerizing, even I had a ha
rd time not staring at her.
It helped when she leveled a nasty, hate-filled look at me. The look lasted only a second before she turned her gaze on Eli, a stunning smile rising to her lips.
I heard Eli’s quick indrawn breath, and jealousy stung my insides. Ever since Eli had broken it off with Katarina, she’d been doing her best to get him back. Well, the best she could without truly invoking her siren magic. That was half the reason he’d broken up with her in the first place—he couldn’t be sure his attraction to her was genuine.
I sort of hoped the other half was his attraction to me, but so far he hadn’t given me any proof beyond that one kiss, which he’d never once mentioned.
Katarina strolled past our line of desks and sat down a few feet away. The smell of her perfume as she went by made me feel faint, in a dreamy, buzzed kind of way. Stupid sirens.
“All right, class,” our teacher Miss Norton said from the front of the room. “Let’s begin. Please open your books to page eighty-four.”
I pulled out my well-worn copy of The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus. The best thing I could say about the book was that it was light and easy to carry around.
“Now.” Miss Norton motioned to the dry-erase board where two lines from the play were written in her neat handwriting. “This quote is from act five, scene one, which all of you should’ve read overnight.” She began to recite, gesticulating wildly. “‘Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies! Come, Helen, come give me my soul again.’”
Norton ceased her dramatic performance, pushed her wire-rim glasses back up her nose, and then surveyed the room. “Who would like to guess what magickind inspired Christopher Marlowe to describe Helen thusly?”
Silence met her question. A dozen possible answers occurred to me, but I wasn’t about to voice any of them to this group. The various kinds had been getting more and more sensitive to any comments about their nature that could be considered derisive.
Just last Thursday, passive, quiet Britney had dumped a beaker full of bloom-and-grow potion over Lance’s head after he referred to all naturekinds as tree-huggers during our alchemy class. Lucky for Lance, the potion wasn’t toxic, but it did make his face break out in tiny, green leaves, which soon covered his whole head until he resembled a walking, talking Chia Pet. Pretty funny, really, although a little overreactive on Britney’s part. Lance had said hundreds of worse things before.
The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy) Page 3