Senior Witch, Fall Semester

by Ingrid Seymour

  She stared into it, the blue light reflecting off her face. “I made a little trip home after the game and helped myself to something else from my parents. I knew that things were about to get worse around here and we might need back up. This is a Pointer.”

  “A what?” Disha asked.

  “I’ve heard of these,” Rowan said, eyes wide. “My uncle had one. They’re very rare and very expensive.”

  Bridget turned the blue orb over in her hands carefully. “Yep. And just another reason my parents are going to write me out of their will. Anyway, a Pointer can help you locate anyone in the world. And then send them a message.”

  “So, it can find Tempest and Kiana,” I said excitedly.

  But Bridget shook her head. “I tried that. It seems the dreamscape isn’t exactly in our world.”

  “Shit,” I said, my hopes deflating. It was always something with Nyquist.

  Bridget held out her hand. “But, it did locate someone else and they think they know where Kiana and Tempest are.”

  Bridget turned toward the tree line as two figures strode out of the dark.

  Long cloaks fluttering in the wind, it was hard to discern who they were until they stepped close enough for the moonlight to illuminate their features. Faun horns and a tuft of green hair poked out of the top of the hooded cloak on one figure and long red braids trailed out of the other.

  Sinasre and Anama walked out of the dark.

  My stomach clenched as if ropes were tightening around it. I hadn’t seen either fae since I’d captured their mother. Sinasre had been my friend, perhaps a little more than that, while Rowan was away, and Anama had only started trusting me after I freed her from Nyquist’s dreamscape. They must hate me for the way I’d tricked their mother and couldn’t possibly guess I was a spy working for good and not evil.

  How much had their hatred for me grown since I saw them last?

  Bridget greeted them as they penetrated our little circle. Disha stood still as a statue. Rowan’s hand found mine as we watched their approach. He squeezed sympathetically. At least I had him by my side.

  Sinasre looked much the same, wearing a cloak of some gray animal hide, linen pants, and a shirt of woven bark. Anama, though, was much changed. Her hair was cropped close to her head and her pale green face was streaked with what looked like war paint. Her thin dresses had been replaced by light armor of molded leather. She carried a short fae spear in one hand and an expression that could’ve scared off a grizzly bear.

  My heart beat so hard I worried the entire campus would hear it. I glanced between the brother and sister duo, wondering what in the hell I might say to them.

  “Anama, Sinasre, I…” The words caught in my throat as Anama stepped forward.

  And slapped me in the face.

  The crack was hard, her hand against my cheek, snapping my head back. I stumbled as heat burned up my skin and my vision blurred. The copper taste of blood coated my tongue.

  “Hey!” Rowan said, stepping between us. “Stop that!”

  Anama hissed and brandished her spear.

  I staggered up, holding my face. Putting a hand on Rowan’s shoulder, I mumbled through the pain, “It’s fine. I deserved that.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Disha said, gripping me. Then she turned to the fae. “Charlie was forced to capture your mother. She had no choice. Nyquist made her.”

  Sinasre stared at me with a pained expression on his face, but Anama spat on the ground, shouting, “Your human lies mean nothing to me. Cease your talking before I cut all your tongues out.”

  Bridget stepped between us, her hands out in placation. “This is not why I called you here. And if you don’t stop fighting, we’ll never get your mother back.”

  Anama bared her sharp teeth but didn’t protest. Sinasre seemed to realize he needed to speak for both of them before his sister cut our heads off.

  “Please forgive my sister. She is understandably upset.” His eyes found mine and cut right through me.

  He continued. “We appreciate the contact. For a long time, we thought everyone here hated our kind. That you meant us harm.”

  “We don’t,” I said, holding back tears. “We never have.”

  Sinasre nodded formally, no hint of our shared connection last year in his eyes. “And we appreciate the offer of help to release our mother. You will have anything at our disposal. We only want her back.”

  Bridget glanced between the two parties before settling her green eyes on me. “They think they know where she is, but they haven’t been able to figure out a way to release her or even get close. But, between the six of us, we might be able to get her out.”

  Sinasre nodded. “We can sense Mother’s magical signature coming from this place.”

  “She’s in the dreamscape,” I said. “Why can’t I sense it?”

  “They are using Mother’s magic to conceal it,” Anama added, though she didn’t look at me. “It’s undetectable to humans. But it is the dreamscape and I’ve been inside. I know how to get them out.”

  “But we have to get in first,” Bridget said. “And that’s going to be tricky.”

  “How tricky?” Rowan asked.

  Bridget gave a little shrug. “Well, Anama says the damn thing has been moved to the Administration Building. It’s under armed guard, plus all the spells we’ve ever seen and then some. So… it should be a whole lot of fun.” A smile creased the corners of her mouth.

  She was either psychotic or the best damn person ever to have in a raiding party.

  “So when do we go?” Disha asked, still holding my hand. I knew she thought if we removed Nyquist, Drew’s father might be able to reclaim his old job and Drew could come out of hiding. I only hoped that was the case.

  Anama thumped her spear butt into the ground. She was as much a fae warrior now as her father had been during the battle last year.

  “We go now. Or are you humans afraid?”

  Rowan opened his mouth to protest, but I put a hand on his chest.

  “We are afraid,” I said. “But we go. We do what I should have done long ago. We save your mother.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  FALL SEMESTER

  LATE OCTOBER

  I planted my feet on the ground and took Fedorov’s canceling case out of my jacket pocket. The lake lay placid behind us, a contradiction to the way I felt inside.

  Lawson, Disha, and Bridget stepped closer, forming a circle and leaving space for Anama and Sinasre. The fae exchanged a loaded glance. They didn’t trust human magic, but they needed it. Without us, they had no hope of rescuing their mother.

  The siblings took their places. Anama’s knuckles were white around her spear. Sinasre unfastened his cloak and let it fall to the ground. His sister followed suit.

  My heart was beating out of control.

  There were no other people in the world I’d rather be with at a moment like this. They were all capable, powerful in their own way, and yet…

  There were no other people in the world I’d rather lock in a warded room where no one could hurt them.

  Instead, I was leading them into a lion’s den.

  Doubt crept into my chest like a venomous spider.

  “We might not come out of this alive,” I said, the words skittering out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  Way to motivate the ranks, Charlie.

  Rowan put a hand out toward the center of the circle. “We know,” he said.

  “We’re together.” Disha placed her hand on top of Rowan’s.

  “There is no one else I’d rather die with!” Bridget said with passion as she added her hand to the pile.

  Rowan grimaced. “No one’s dying tonight, okay?”

  Bridget shrugged. “I’d be okay with it.”

  I wasn’t sure whether she meant she would be okay with one of us dying or her dying. I thought it wise not to ask for clarification.

  Anama followed, wrinkling her nose as her hand touched Bridget’s. I went next. Anama bared
her teeth as my palm touched the back of her hand. I held her gaze, still feeling the sting on my cheek from her slap. Maybe one day she would forgive me for what I’d done… maybe not. One thing I knew, though, no matter how big my guilt, I would work hard to forgive myself. I’d done what was needed to serve a bigger plan, to save more than just the fae.

  Sinasre’s yellowish-green eyes pierced mine as he set his large hand on top of the pile. As his skin touched my own, something passed between us, perhaps an acknowledgment of that intimacy that once existed. I didn’t have a name for it, but it made me uncomfortable. Rowan shifted in place, appearing as uncomfortable as I felt.

  Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes and focused on feeling the alarm spells that surrounded the campus. After identifying them, I pressed the canceling button. When I was sure the warning spells were deactivated and the cloaking spell in place, I nodded at Disha.

  “Take us there,” I said.

  She pulled her hand from the pile, hooked her right arm with mine and her left one with Bridget’s to ensure we kept physical contact. Her face set in determination, she wove the transporting spell, her hands and fingers forming complicated patterns with the speed of an expert prestidigitator.

  As her spell took hold, I felt a sudden jerk, like a giant hand snatching me off the ground. An instant later, I was set back down. I stumbled, so did Rowan. We helped each other keep our balance. Everyone else regained their footing, glancing around.

  We were inside the Administration Building. Its front foyer to be precise. It was dark and every shadow appeared threatening. No alarms gave away our presence. The canceling case was doing its job.

  With a growl, Anama pulled her hand from the pile and placed it on her stomach. She said something to her brother in a language I didn’t understand. Regardless, I was sure it was a string of curses. Disha’s traveling spells were not exactly fun, but she’d gotten us where we needed to go in a wink.

  “Where to?” Disha asked, her eyes set on Anama.

  The fae glowered into the darkness as if listening to something, then turned sharply left. We walked behind her as she followed the thread of her mother’s magic.

  We advanced down the long dark hallway with our hands at the ready, our eyes darting in every direction. From within our cloaking spell, no witch light spell could help us through the dim halls, but at least our footsteps didn’t echo on the polished floors. Every office door was closed, no sign of the guards I’d been expecting, which only made my anxiety increase. Where was everyone? Could this be right?

  Pausing for a moment where two corridors met, Anama took the one that led toward Nyquist’s office.

  No. That couldn’t be. There was nothing in Nyquist’s office. I’d been there enough times to know that, including today. I swallowed self-consciously. Was the dreamscape in the old man’s office? Had I been so blind to miss something that was right in front of my nose?

  We entered the long corridor, but after only a couple of steps, Anama stopped dead in her tracks, lifting a fist to indicate we should do the same. Everyone froze.

  “What is it?” Bridget asked.

  “Shh!” Anama jerked her head to one side, showing us her profile and pressing a finger to her lips.

  A door closed.

  Someone was here.

  My cuffs heated and my fingers tingled. Anama lifted her spear. We stood stock-still for a long moment. No other sounds came.

  “What do we do?” I asked.

  “We keep going,” Anama answered. “I’m not leaving without my mother.”

  Rowan’s gaze met mine. His expression was sober and resigned at the same time as if he feared a confrontation and what we may need to do. He had killed before, but it had changed him, sending him into a spiral that almost destroyed him. His hand found mine and squeezed it. He seemed to be trying to communicate some reassurance through his touch, some promise.

  I’m with you, he seemed to say. You won’t go through any of this alone.

  He knew me well. He could see that the thought of killing someone in cold blood terrified me, even if it was Nyquist, even if I thought his death was necessary. The guilt of what I’d done to Kiana, to Tempest, still kept me up at night. I didn’t think it would be the same with Nyquist. I hated him for what he’d done to Drew, Disha, Bridget, Kiana, Tempest, Lynssa, the Academy, the list went on and on. But taking a life was never, ever easy.

  I squeezed Rowan’s hand back, feeling grateful for his support. If I had him and my friends, I could survive anything.

  Anama pressed forward. I was sure she was headed for Nyquist’s office until she stopped in front of what had been Macgregor’s and then Bonnie Underwood’s office.

  Contrary to what I had thought in the beginning, Nyquist had never filled the post of Dean of Admissions. I had been sure he would appoint one of his friends to the important position, but I’d been wrong. It seemed he had no interest in attracting new students or searching for kids who didn’t know they were Supers until they fractured, like me. The only people he wanted here belonged to families that wanted the “old ways” back. They’d flocked here on their own.

  But, even if the office had remained empty, I’d inspected it, combed its every corner for magical signatures. There had been nothing.

  “Here?” I asked.

  Anama nodded once, without glancing in my direction.

  “I’ve searched this room,” I said. “There’s nothing in there.”

  She turned to look at me, her eyes cold. “My mother’s magic is coming from here.” She spoke through clenched teeth as if I were the stupidest human in the world to question her.

  I put my hands up as if to ward off her meanness. “If you say so.”

  “Sheesh,” Bridget murmured. “Somebody needs a chill pill.”

  “I’ll take a ‘chill pill’ when you buy a comb,” Anama told Bridget.

  “Hey!” Bridget took a hand to her bushy red hair. “That was uncalled for.”

  Anama pushed air through her nose and lifted a hand toward the doorknob.

  “Don’t touch that,” I said, shouldering to the front.

  Her hand froze in midair. She appeared at the verge of kicking the door off its hinges, but when Sinasre squeezed her arm and whispered something in her pointed ear, she took a step back and let me take her place.

  I pulled Fedorov’s box out of my pocket, closed my eyes, and held the box to the door. The device allowed me to feel the turmoil of spells that guarded the place.

  My eyes sprang open.

  A lot, and I mean a lot of spells protected the office. That was new.

  “What is it?” Disha asked.

  I swallowed thickly. “This is it.”

  I’d searched tirelessly for the dreamscape, especially after I got the canceling case. And now, here it was, in a place I’d searched not only once, but twice. It occurred to me then that Nyquist must be constantly moving the entrance to his magical jail to make it harder to find. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I felt so stupid.

  “How come there are no guards?” Sinasre asked.

  “Maybe because that would be a dead giveaway that there’s something important behind the door,” Bridget said in a smart-aleck tone. She still sounded irritated about Anama’s comment about her hair and seemed to be taking it out on Sinasre, too.

  “Can we get through?” Rowan asked.

  I nodded. “It might take a minute or two,” I said, closing my eyes and setting to work. Bridget stood back, understanding that it was better if only one of us used their canceling case.

  The device showed me the different wards that protected the office one by one. They were even more elaborate than the warning spell that enveloped the campus. Carefully, I evaluated each spell for tricks or booby traps, then, when I felt sure I understood the ward’s signature, I pressed the button, letting my magic aid with the cancelation.

  Sweat trickled down the side of my face, and my mouth went dry after several minutes of work. In the back of my mind, I heard t
he shuffling of my friends’ feet. They were growing restless. There were still more wards to break, though.

  Time seemed to tick in my ears.

  “Why is it taking so long?” Anama asked with a mixture of annoyance and concern.

  “Let her work,” Rowan said. “She’ll get it. She’s the best witch I know.”

  “I won’t take that personally because you’re biased,” Bridget put in.

  “Shh,” was all I managed as I struggled to keep my focus.

  I don’t know how long it took, but when I finally disabled the last ward, I almost collapsed. Nonchalantly, I braced myself, placing one hand on the door and another on the knob.

  There seemed to be a general sigh of relief as I said, “It’s safe to open it now.”

  As I turned the knob, I remembered the dreamscape we had faced last semester. The iridescent path, the psychedelic landscape, and colors, the strange creatures, all that otherworldliness.

  “Whatever weird crap is through this door,” I said, “it’s just a dream. It can’t really hurt you.”

  My friends nodded.

  I pushed the door open.

  A desk, three chairs, and wall-to-wall bookshelves greeted us.

  We stepped inside, eyes darting around.

  “Um, not even my dreams are this boring,” Disha said, closing the office door behind her.

  “Is this it?” Bridget asked.

  I shook my head. “Something’s wrong. We should have stepped into the dreamscape.”

  Anama was walking all around, touching the desk, the chairs, the walls.

  “She’s here. I feel her. Take me to her!” she demanded, whirling to face me. “Is this another one of your tricks?”

  “No!” I assured her. “It isn’t.”

  Sinasre joined his sister’s side, and the look he gave me told me exactly what he thought of me. I’d hoped maybe he would give me the benefit of the doubt because of all we’d been through last year, but I was wrong. He hated me as much as his sister did. He just hid it better.

  I shook my head, sweat trickling down my back as the panic gathered. “Nyquist must have changed something. He must have—”