Lock and Key

by Evangeline Anderson

  “I…I went over and laughed at her. Because it was Goddamned funny! She was all crying in the dirt like an ugly baby—fucking hilarious!” Sanchez’s eyes widened even as his mouth worked again and I could tell he was talking against his will.

  I might have felt sorry for him—after all, since Griffin had marked me with his blood, I certainly knew the frustration of having to tell the truth when I would much rather dissemble. But the ugly things Sanchez was saying killed any pity I might have had for him. After hearing that he had hit Kaitlyn on purpose and thought it was funny, I felt like he deserved everything he had coming to him.

  And from the look in Headmistress Nightworthy’s flashing blue eyes, what was coming wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  “I see.” She nodded, her lips a thin white line in her ageless face. “Did you know, Mr. Sanchez, that Kaitlyn Fellows lost both her parents in a fire just two years ago? She received third degree burns over three quarters of her body and the extensive scarring which you find so funny, has been untreatable, though both modern Norm medicine and the best and most complicated Healing magic have been tried. She lost her family and her beauty in one awful night and you tell me you find it ‘hilarious’ to hurt her and jeer at her?”

  Sanchez shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably but the truth spell was still on him.

  “I can’t help what happened to her,” he growled angrily. “It’s not my fault she got turned into a freak! And if you ask me, she shouldn’t be here. Unsightly females shouldn’t be allowed in view of the public!”

  “I am very well aware of the Drake culture’s misogynistic views towards females who are considered ‘less than perfect.’” The Headmistress’s voice was icy. “But I will not tolerate such behavior at my school. Nocturne Academy is built on the idea that Others of all types can come together and get an education without fear of being bullied or belittled.”

  “But she’s not even an Other,” Sanchez snarled. “She’s just an ugly little Norm!”

  Ms. Radcliff threw the Headmistress a surprised look.

  “The girl in question is a Norm? I didn’t know you were allowing Norms to attend classes with our children here, Headmistress Nightworthy.” Her voice was stiff with disapproval.

  The Headmistress gave her a cool look that was easy to read—back off, this is my territory.

  “We have a few Norm students,” she said. “Norms whom I feel show promise and talent and who need a safe place to grow.” She fixed Sanchez with her penetrating blue gaze again. “Which is precisely why Kaitlyn Fellows was admitted here. Hearing that you have hurt and bullied her in what I hoped would be a safe place, well, Mr. Sanchez, I cannot adequately express my rage.”

  Wow. Not anger but rage. It was a strong word and the look on the Headmistress’s face backed it up. Her blue eyes were narrowed and her fangs were out—long and sharp—the same way Griffin’s got when he thought I was being threatened.

  I bit my lip and took a silent step back, glad I wasn’t the one she was glaring at.

  “I…um…it’s not my fault,” he said again, weakly. “And you shouldn’t have let her in here anyway,” he added with renewed belligerence. “Nobody oughta have to see her ugly face!”

  “That is not your concern any longer, Mr. Sanchez, since you personally will not be seeing Kaitlyn anymore,” the Headmistress snapped. “As of this minute, you are expelled from Nocturne Academy. You are to go at once. Do not even stop to pack your things—they will be sent to you.”

  “What?” Sanchez exploded. “But what about my face? What about this fucking mark? If it was a battle scar, it wouldn’t make a difference but this is a goddamned shame mark!”

  He stabbed one finger at his left cheek, which was nearly purple with anger. My handprint stood out like a signpost on his face—a tattooed warning of what he really was inside—ugly.

  Headmistress Nightworthy gazed at the mark for a moment.

  “Considering your people’s feelings about facial deformities and the way those who are marked in any way are looked down on in your culture, I would say that is a fitting punishment. Maybe wearing it will allow you to empathize with your victim and see what it feels like to be ridiculed for something which is outside of your control.”

  “You…you can’t do this to me!” Sanchez sputtered. “You’re supposed to fix this—not throw me out! My Sire paid a shit-ton of money to send me here!”

  “So he did,” Headmistress Nightworthy said coolly. “But the cost of your tuition does not include the right to bully and belittle another student—especially one so vulnerable. You should be ashamed of yourself, Mr. Sanchez.” She glared at him. “I know I am certainly ashamed of you and if your Sire has any kind of honor—which I know your people value greatly—I believe he will be ashamed of you too. Now go!”

  She pointed to the black door of her office, which opened on its own, as if in response to her voice.

  For a moment Sanchez just stood there, glaring back at her, his eyes yellow and his ham-sized hands curled into fists. The stink of his anger was very strong in the small office—the smell of adrenaline and testosterone, I supposed—it smelled musky and animalistic.

  I wondered if he was going to change—if he was going to let his Drake out the way he almost had on the PE field—and if it would fit in this room if he did. I remembered the Healer saying the dragons inside most Drakes were “as big as a barn” and that some of them breathed fire. Was Sanchez’s Drake able to do that? And would it matter? If he started growing fangs like he had out on the PE field, he would probably bite all our heads off first and then burn our bodies to a crisp afterwards.

  But for some reason, he didn’t change. Maybe it had to do with some magic built into the Headmistress’s office or maybe she had the same gift Griffin did and was able to control beasts. Either way, all he did was go to the open door as the Headmistress had directed.

  Before he went, however, he turned back and stabbed a finger at me.

  “This is your fault, you fucking witch! You and that ugly little freak-friend of yours. Someday, you’re gonna pay!”

  Then he stomped angrily out of the office, slamming the thick black door behind him.

  Or at least he tried to. The door jerked to a stop about an inch from its frame and then, no matter how much he pulled on it, wouldn’t close any further. Sanchez yanked on it angrily for a moment, clearly wanting to make his point, though all I could see of him were his fingers curled around the inside of the door.

  On the third yank, Headmistress Nightworthy said, “All right,” in a low voice and the door at last closed—on Sanchez’s fingers.

  I heard a high, angry howl and then the fingers disappeared and he could be heard clomping down the hallway as the door shut very gently and quietly on its own.

  “Thank you,” the Headmistress said, though if she was talking to the door itself or some unseen entity who had closed it, was impossible to determine. “Now, then,” she turned back to me. “Thank you for your candor, Miss Latimer, and for standing up for a weaker student, even in the face of what must have seemed a very formidable threat. You may go.”

  Relief flooded through me and I opened my mouth to thank her but Winifred Rattcliff’s voice rang out instead.

  “Wait! We still don’t know how she did it! I must find out!”

  Well, crap.

  42

  Winifred Rattcliff gave me a penetrating look and I tried to stop myself from shifting around guiltily. I looked right back at her, trying to keep my face calm and blank. I only hoped she wouldn’t use the same truth spell on me she had used on Sanchez or my secret about using Blood magic was going to come out for sure.

  “Your Elementary Casting teacher, Ms. Yasmeen, told me when I asked that you are still struggling with even the most basic of spells, Miss. Latimer. So please tell me how you were able to do such advanced magic which even I could not undo?”

  “I…just got angry,” I said uncomfortably. “I got angry and slapped him for hurting Kaitly
n and laughing at her.”

  “Yes, yes, we know the story,” she said impatiently. “But how can a witch who is unable to even light a candle with her magic suddenly perform a complex Shame-marking spell on the spot?”

  “I don’t know,” I said stubbornly. “Sorry, I just don’t.”

  “Perhaps we can find out,” she said. And reaching for me, she captured one of my hands in both of hers.

  Two things happened simultaneously.

  First, I felt something like a cold finger poking at me—poking at my brain, my memories, it seemed. I couldn’t see anything but I could feel it—an intrusive, prying feeling that wasn’t nice at all.

  Second, the key necklace which had been sleeping between my breasts woke up with a jolt. But instead of burning, as it did when I encountered Griffin, it froze—radiating a cold so intense it felt like someone was shoving an icicle right through my chest into my heart.

  “Oh!” I gasped and yanked my hand out of her grip. “Don’t do that! Don’t ever do that again!” I heard myself yelling at her, though I wasn’t even sure what ‘that’ was.

  Headmistress Nightworthy looked at Ms. Rattcliff sharply.

  “What exactly did you do, Winifred?”

  “Nothing,” Nancy’s mother said hurriedly, a frustrated look on her face. “Just a little revealing spell, that’s all.” She reached for me again but I stepped out of her reach.

  “Leave me alone! Don’t touch me!” I blurted. The key was still icy and throbbing a warning between my breasts.

  “But I have to know—” Ms. Rattcliff exclaimed…and then stopped abruptly.

  “You have to know what, Winifred?” Headmistress Nightworthy had one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched and was looking at her with a little frown.

  “Nothing. I just…wanted to know how she could possibly work such strong magic by accident,” Ms. Ratcliff said, scowling. She looked at me. “You know, my dear, I can help you if you let me,” she went on, her face smoothing out into a smile about as real as a three-dollar bill. “You can come to me for tutoring sessions—I’ll do them for free.”

  “Thanks but I’ll figure it out on my own,” I said shortly. “Though it was nice to meet you.”

  Ms. Rattcliff’s black eyes narrowed and her thick lips pulled back revealing her too-large teeth, making her look very much like her daughter, I thought.

  “Young lady, you do not dismiss me in that manner. I am your Elder Sister and I deserve respect!”

  “I’m not disrespecting you,” I said, carefully keeping my voice calm and neutral. “I would just prefer not to let you touch me again and I would rather figure my magic out on my own. I think that’s my right.” I looked up at the Headmistress who nodded in confirmation.

  “She does not have to accept help from you, Winifred. Though it is, of course, very kind of you to offer,” she added in a conciliatory manner.

  Ms. Rattcliff’s narrowed black eyes were snapping with anger by now but her voice was calm when she answered.

  “Very well, but I think if Megan is going to get a proper magical education she ought to move into the South Tower with the other Sisters. I understand you have her living in the Dungeon now, Headmistress, which is hardly fitting for someone of her illustrious lineage.”

  Now, how did she know where I was rooming? Had she asked Nancy? Or did she have some other source of information here at Nocturne Academy?

  “A good thought.” Headmistress Nightworthy nodded and turned to me.

  “Miss Latimer, would you care to move into the South Tower now that you have proven your magical ability?”

  “No thank you,” I said at once. “I’m very happy in the Norm Dorm.”

  “The Norm Dorm?” Ms. Rattcliff sniffed. “Whatever is that?”

  “It’s what we call the Dungeon dormitory,” I explained, speaking more to the Headmistress than to Nancy’s mother. “Because two of my coven-mates are Norms.”

  “If they are Norms then they can’t be considered to be in a coven!” Ms. Rattcliff protested.

  “Well, that’s the way we think of it. Besides, it doesn’t really matter what we call ourselves—what matters is our friendship,” I said. I was damned if anyone was going to separate me from my little tribe. Emma, Avery, and Kaitlyn were my people now—we belonged together and that was how things were going to stay.

  Headmistress Nightworthy nodded.

  “I’m pleased to hear you’ve found some friends here already, Miss Latimer. Of course you may stay where you feel most comfortable.”

  “But…but it’s not proper,” Ms. Rattcliff sputtered angrily. “Sticking a Latimer away down in the Dungeon like that! Why, I was her mother’s best friend, so in lieu of any proper guardian, I think I ought to decide what’s best for Megan!”

  Right—so she could have me in the South Tower Sisters’ dorm where Nancy could keep an eye on me, no doubt.

  “I do have a proper guardian—my Aunt Dellie,” I snapped back. “And anyway, my mother never mentioned you to me once. How do I know you were best friends? You could just be saying that!”

  “Are you accusing me of lying?” she demanded, her nostrils flaring to show long black nose-hairs that needed trimming. “How dare you?”

  “Enough!” The Headmistress’s voice cracked like a whip, stopping us at once. “Winifred,” she said, frowning at Nancy’s mother. “I asked you here to help in a magical matter—not to dictate where my students are housed or how they are educated. And Miss Latimer,” she added, turning to me, “You must not speak so disrespectfully to your Elders. Ms. Rattcliff may well be your direct superior if you join your mother’s old coven when you graduate. I suggest you show a little restraint with that in mind. Please apologize.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, with as much courtesy as I could muster, though I was still seething inside. “Again, I don’t mean to be disrespectful. I’m just happy where I am and I think I’ll find a way to release my magic eventually.”

  I hoped anyway.

  But Winifred Rattcliff clearly wasn’t listening to my apology, forced though it was. She was staring at me—staring at the space right between my eyes.

  “There’s a mark there!” she exclaimed, pointing at me. “She’s been marked by a male!”

  Well now the cat really was out of the bag. I had gotten away with the Blood magic but Griffin’s mark was going to get me into trouble just the same. I wondered if she could tell who marked me just by looking.

  I wondered how much trouble I was going to be in.

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  “Miss Latimer, let me see you.”

  Headmistress Nightworthy put one cool finger under my chin and raised my face to hers. She studied the place between my eyebrows with a critical air of someone trying to decipher markings written in a foreign language.

  I submitted to her inspection without protest though my heart was pounding so hard I though it might break through my ribs and gallop away. Could she see the mark too? Could she tell it was Griffin’s?

  At last she let me go and stepped back, nodding.

  “There is, indeed, a mark of protection and possession on her forehead,” she confirmed.

  “Of course there is—it’s plain as day! I don’t know why I didn’t see it before!” Winifred Rattcliff exclaimed. She rounded on the Headmistress.

  “Are you now allowing the students to mark each other, Headmistress Nightworthy? What is next—Blood-Bonding?”

  “Certainly not.” Headmistress Nightworthy frowned at me. “I am certain Miss Latimer has a good explanation for the fact that she has been marked by someone of the opposite sex.”

  “I do,” I said quickly. “Sanchez threatened me. I was marked in order to keep him away—to keep me safe.”

  “I see.” The Headmistress’s frown let up just a shade. “In the future, please come to me if you feel threatened by another student. We can handle such things in a much better way than allowing yourself to be marked as someone’s Katarra.”

  I frowned. “What? I’
m sorry—I haven’t heard that term.”

  “Katarra means ‘cherished one,’” the Headmistress said severely. “And you should not have allowed yourself to be marked as such if you didn’t even know the name and implications that come with such an action!”

  I thought of protesting that Griffin had marked me before I even knew what he was doing but again I sensed that excuses wouldn’t fly with Headmistress Nightworthy.

  “Yes, Headmistress,” I said, nodding and bowing my head. “I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  She made a sound very close to a snort.

  “It certainly will not. You cannot wear the marks of two males at once—at least I have never heard of such a thing happening.”

  “You’re missing the point,” Winifred Rattcliff interjected impatiently.

  “Oh?” The Headmistress arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow at her. “And what is the point, Winifred?”

  Nancy’s mother frowned angrily.

  “As you and I both know, Headmistress, there are no warlocks registered at Nocturne Academy this term,” she said. “There is only one male witch and from what I understand he has no interest in marking females of any kind.”

  I wondered how she knew so much about the Academy and its students. I could understand if she and Nancy were close and Nancy gave her tidbits of gossip from time to time but it almost seemed like she was studying everyone, finding out everything she could for some reason of her own.

  “Which means?” the Headmistress said blandly, though I was pretty sure she knew where this was going. I knew I did and it wasn’t good.

  “Which means that Megan Latimer has allowed herself to be marked by a male of a different class of Other than her own!” Winifred Rattcliff exclaimed triumphantly. “Which means she has broken the Edict and must be expelled!”

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