“I’ve tried to visit before. I’ve paddled out all over the loch but it’s impossible to find. It must be a real fortress.” He says. I can read the suspicion in his eyes and I think that maybe I’m right about it being an institution after all.
“No, it’s definitely not a fortress. It seems like a regular, boring old boarding school to me.” I laugh nervously and try to side step him.
“You’ll have to show it to me sometime.” He steps in front of me to block my passage. His persistence is starting to get on my nerves.
“What about you? Why aren't you in school today?” I say.
“I graduated last year.”
“No college?”
“I needed to help Niall. There’s too much to keep an eye on here.” I listen for a trace of bitterness in his voice as we stand there staring at each other.
“I have a girlfriend. She goes to school in Edinburgh.” He says matter-of-factly and I can’t help but laugh. It’s like he’s afraid if he doesn’t get it out in the open that I might jump his bones right there. I hate it when guys think so highly of themselves that they feel they have to fend off every girl they come in contact with.
“Maybe you should just wear an ‘off-limits’ sign around your neck to keep all of the lovesick girls at bay.” I roll my eyes.
“What?” He seems genuinely confused by my comment.
“Never mind.”
“Whatever. See you later.” I say and he is quiet for a moment before he turns back to the garden. He is instantly cold and withdrawn leaving me feeling even more tired and more than a little broken. I walk around him and find my way upstairs in a haze where I collapse on the canopied bed. I don’t even bother taking my shoes off. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to slow my pulse as I process the crazy morning I’ve just had. Maybe this is all a dream and I’ll wake up tomorrow and everything will be back the way it was. I’ll wake up and go to the mall and then spend the afternoon on my surfboard. Mom will make me my favorite lentil burgers and sweet potato fries for dinner and I’ll fall asleep on the couch watching an old movie with dad. Eventually my breathing evens out and my eyelids get heavy.
* *
I am in my room. But not my room in California, this room, here in the manor house with the light blue walls and canopied bed. I am wearing a white dress with a light green sash that matches my eyes. My hair is in pigtails and I am clutching a stuffed whale. Mom is sitting on the bed and dad is half-standing, half-kneeling and pushing on the big wooden headboard. I walk over to the window and look out at the loch which is as smooth as glass. “Get away from the window, Lily!” Mom yells at me and I cower. She never yells. I sit down on the floor and cross my legs while my dad keeps pushing on the headboard. “How is this going to help, Ayfred? She’s six years old. She’ll never remember this.” Mom makes a face and rubs her hand across her forehead. He ignores her and calls me over. I walk toward him and he takes my hand in his. “When the time comes you need to remember that this is here. If something should happen to us just look inside the headboard and you will find what you need.” A tear slides down my cheek before he has a chance to catch it. “Why would something happen to you, Daddy?” He bends over and wraps his arms around me, rocking me gently back and forth. “Don’t cry sweetheart. This is for your own protection. You are a very special little girl and one day you will come back here and when you do I need you to remember.” “Remember what, Daddy?” I say. “Remember that you are a princess. Now close your eyes and repeat after me, ‘the answers are in the headboard’.” I sniff and wipe my runny nose with my stuffed whale. “The answers are in the headboard.” He smiles proudly and I nod even though I have no clue what he is talking about. “That’s a good girl.”
* *
My eyes are barely open before I’m scrambling up the bed to stare at the headboard. It is made of the same heavy wood as the rest of the bedroom furniture and painted the same antique white. I run my hands along the trees carved into its centre and around the sides. There is no drawer, latch or handle and I have no idea what I am supposed to be looking for. I knock on it a few times then try prying it open where the carving meets the edge. I feel behind the headboard and I check under the bed, then pull the mattress to the side but I find nothing. I remind myself that it was just a stupid dream, so why am I tearing up my bedroom like an idiot? I can’t keep having dreams like this. Seeing my parents so vividly is like having a band aid repeatedly ripped off an open wound. I stare at the headboard in frustration then slam my hands into it as hard as I can. I need to get out of this place and find a way to get home. Even if it means crashing on my best friend Anna’s couch for the rest of my life it would still be better than this insanity. When I lean back I see that one of the intricately carved trees has popped open and under it is a small bronze key sitting in a dusty lock. I twist the key around and the headboard pulls apart with a groan, revealing a hollow space inside where a book sits. It takes two hands to pull out the huge, leather bound book which is in surprisingly good condition considering the amount of dust on it. I flip through the first few pages which are brown parchment and yellowing around the edges and then I start to read. It is the family history of the Hughes tribe and it reads like a history textbook on acid. There are pages and pages of photos, family-trees and Gaelic drawings and it takes me most of the night to get through it. There is information about my grandfather, my great-grandfather and other family members dating back to medieval times. It turns out that my parents didn’t buy this house at all but that it’s been passed down the line dating back years and years. I don’t know what surprises me more; that I have been here before at this very house and blocked it out or that I’m holding a book in my hands about real, verifiable fairies. After reading through it all I am left with an overview of what being a fairy is about and some idea as to where all of the legends come from. Apparently we used to be small. Not like Tinkerbelle small but diminutive, which is not really that much of a stretch to believe since a hundred years ago humans were like, barely five feet tall. According to the book we used to be winged but as we evolved wings became obsolete, mostly because as we grew in size winged flight became impossible as a means of transport. Most of the legends and folklore seem to have come from Celtic history, which says that we are an intelligent and creative species that were forced into hiding. There are lots of different names for fairies, like the ‘sidhe’ who are said to be immortal Irish fairies living in caves, or the ‘kelpie’ which are supposed to be some kind of fairy seahorses that I don’t want to put too much thought into. There is a section on the history of the Hughes powers and a letter written by my great-great-great grandfather on elemental manipulation. I think what strikes me most about the book is despite how surreal it is a lot of the history isn’t that different from what I know of humanity. Take for example a bloody past where we were known for our savagery, moving into a period of mischief and malice, to the kind of work my parents and their ancestors have done over the last few hundred years supporting the earth and protecting the anonymity of our species. There are pages and pages of articles on my parents and their work with high profile environmental protection organizations. It seems that they were both taking a very active role in governance and environmental stewardship and working closely with humans, which is of course news to me. How did I not know any of this? When I finally close the book and stuff it back into the headboard I’m thinking that maybe everyone at Ex Nihilo isn’t as crazy as I thought.
Chapter 4: Rhymes with Witch
Surprisingly, the boatman is waiting for me at the dock the next morning with his arms folded and his head bent in repose. He nods ever so slightly as he helps me up and on to the boat. By the time I make it to school I’ve missed the first bell and the halls are once again empty, so I make my way back to the headmasters’ office. I must startle her when I throw open the door because she tears off her glasses and looks up from her papers in surprise.
“Lily.” She says cautiously as I flop d
own in the chair across from her.
“Headmaster. I'm back and I’m ready to listen.”
“Well, to begin with you can call me Professor Winters as headmaster sounds a little severe, even to me. And I’m glad you came back but I’m afraid we don’t have time to waste. I’ve told you everything you need to know about who you are. I would suggest that you reach out to your peers if you have questions. My priority is for you to start working on your powers immediately.”
“I don’t have powers.”
“Yes, you do. You may not feel them yet but they are there. Now I suggest you get going before you miss any more class. You have an entire day to catch up on.” She turns her chair around and starts punching the keys on her laptop, effectively dismissing me. I get up and head toward the door with a thousand different thoughts rattling around in my brain. When I was five years old my dad bought me silver wings, a wand and a tutu for my Halloween costume. I wore that costume for two straight weeks. I ate in it, slept in it; I even tried to bathe in it. When I told my dad that I wanted to be a fairy this isn’t really what I had in mind. Professor Winters stops me before I reach the door.
“Oh and another thing, this is a boarding school. I understand that your parents wanted you to have time to live in their home and adjust to the change of scenery but the expectation when you are ready is that you will move in here. And while you live among the humans in Strangford you must keep our secrets and tell them nothing of Ex Nihilo.” “Why the big secret? This place is hard to miss. Can’t they just come here and see it for themselves?” I say and she frowns.
“No, Lily. The witches put the school under a very powerful shrouding spell. Humans can’t see it and they couldn’t get here if they wanted to. It is both for their protection and for ours. You’d be wise to remember that.”
* *
“Sorry, what class are we going to?” I ask Tristan, who at the summoning of Professor Winters is walking me to my next class.
“Demonology.” He says. Oh-kay, I think to myself.
“What do we play with an Ouija board or something?” I joke and he grimaces, which looks odd on his perpetually smiling face.
“Don’t be ridiculous, California. It’s one of the best classes we have and one of the only ones where the junior and senior classes are combined. You’ll love it, just come with me.” He pushes open the door to a regular old classroom complete with wooden desks and a dusty chalkboard at the front. The teacher sees us and rushes over the greet me.
“You must be Lily. I’ve so been looking forward to meeting you!” She says warmly as I take in her closely cropped platinum hair and mint colored eyes which look even lighter against her bronze skin. And there is a lisp to her accent that sounds kind of Spanish. “I’m Lucinda Greene.” She smiles and I catch a flash of white teeth which are slightly crooked in the front in an endearing sort of way. “Welcome to my class, please find yourself a seat anywhere that’s available.” I slide into an empty desk in the front row and Tristan pats me on the shoulder before heading to his seat at the back.
“Welcome everyone to Level Two Demonology, arguably one of the most important classes you will take this term. As supernatural’s we have a responsibility to understand the forces we are up against and the temptations we all face. As the school motto says, Nosce Te Ipsum. But what is just as important as knowing oneself? Anyone?” The room is quiet and no one raises their hand.
“Knowing your enemy.” A voice, like warm butter melting on toast, finally pipes up. It’s deep and smooth, with a trace of an Italian accent and it sends a shiver down my spine. The voice belongs to the boy in the desk beside me. He is absolutely gorgeous and it’s incredible that I didn’t notice him until he spoke. He has an oval face with full lips, dark eyebrows, and silky dark brown hair that falls just past his ears. His skin has a rich olive tone to it and the way he is leaning back in his seat shows off a lean, muscular frame draped in expensive black jeans, a black t-shirt and collarless dark brown motorcycle jacket. There is no way that he is sixteen and I think maybe he’s been held back. Can you be held back when you are a supernatural? Just looking at him makes my heart beat a little faster.
“Luca is correct. As you all know, there are those in the supernatural community that choose to side with evil. They use evil to enhance their abilities and in turn compromise the safety and anonymity we have all sworn to uphold.” I know what she is saying must be important but I start to tune Lucinda out. I am staring at him and I can’t stop myself. He glances over, a smirk playing on his lips.
“What?” He mouths and I turn bright red and stare down at my desk.
“So let’s review the basics class. What is a demon? It is formless evil that can be conjured and controlled but it can only possess when it has been summoned. If you choose to summon a demon you run the risk of letting it take you over permanently. Demon power itself has five influences; coercion, subversion, lust, gluttony, indulgence. These represent the five points of the pentagram.” Someone at the back of the class raises their hand.
“But isn’t a pentagram a religious symbol?”
“Good, Kyle. Pentagram comes from the Greek word meaning five-lined and was an ancient Babylonian religious symbol. It also is represented in the Star of David in Judaism and has been used to symbolize the five wounds of Jesus. It is also often seen as a magical symbol, a symbol of free masonry and as a symbol of the Wiccan faith representing spirit, water, fire, earth and air. Five is considered a mystical number and as a result the pentagram is often considered a potent protection against evil.” Kyle puts his hand up again.
“But if it’s protection from evil why is it associated with demonology?” Lucinda picks up the chalk and draws the pentagram symbol on the board upside down.
“Good and evil follow each other closely. The demonic ritual uses an inverted pentagram as a symbol of evil. A Grimoire contains a number of spells that can be used to summon a demon and all spells require the use of the inverted star in addition to a diabolical pact in blood. As you will remember from Level One Demonology that a diabolical pact is a contract written backwards in Latin and sealed with the blood of a sacrifice which the signor becomes bound to for a hundred years.” Lucinda looks at me with sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Lily, this must be overwhelming for you for your first class.”
“It all sounds very Faustian to me.” I say and I notice Luca raise his eyebrows.
“Very good! Is everyone familiar with the legend of Faust? Can you share with us Lily?” I clear my throat and inwardly curse myself for opening my mouth in the first place. “Faust makes a pact with the devil to exchange his soul for knowledge and pleasure. It’s a theme that’s present in a lot of literature, art and culture. It’s about sacrificing ones moral integrity for power.” Lucinda gives me a thumbs up and I’m suddenly thankful that I had to do a paper on the subject last year.
“Well summarized, Lily. And here’s an interesting fact. Faust literally translates to fist in German and a fist represents physical force. So the word quite literally describes someone who will resort to any means to achieve their goals.”
Lucinda finishes her lecture and asks us to separate into pairs to review the chapter on Lesser Demons. I am paired with Luca, who doesn’t make any attempt to move or turn in my direction so I have to half-walk half-drag my desk over to his. I’m peering over his shoulder at his text book when he finally speaks.
“You’re the new girl?” He doesn’t look at me when he talks and instead looks past me over my shoulder.
“Yes.”
“You know a lot about Faust.” It is a statement more than it is a question.
“I guess so.” I shrug, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. He is the kind of guy that is so incredibly good-looking that just breathing the same air as him is intimidating. “Can I offer you some advice?” He looks down at my feet. “Invest in some new footwear. Flip flops aren’t exactly appropriate for the Irish weather and I can guarantee you won’t find anywhere to su
ntan around here.”
I’m dying of embarrassment and I can feel it creeping up through my body, staining my face crimson. I look down at my outfit; dark gray skinny jeans, a white off-the-shoulder Billabong tee and sandals. Why oh why didn’t I go with jeans, boots and a jacket. I am totally mortified. I want to shrink down in my seat and disappear but a voice saves me. “Don’t listen to fangs over there. He was born with, how you say, a stick up his backside.” The girl to my right shoots Luca a death look, then smiles at me. “I am Nissa Duval. And I promise you that I have much nicer manners than ‘Luca-the-Great’ over there, which is saying a lot given that I am a witch." She says with mock sarcasm and extends a finely manicured hand to me. She has a jet-black bob hairstyle cut at an angle and her wide, expressive eyes are rimmed in coal. Her lipstick is blood red and a diamond stud sparkles in her nose. She is covered head to toe in black; black tights, black sweater dress, black heeled boots. She is both stunning and frightening all at once. “Nice to meet you.” I say, grateful for the distraction.
“I think you are gorgeous. Like one of those surfing girls from the American TV. Very casual chic.” She says as I struggle to keep up with her French lilt.
“You mean 90210?”
“Yes, but the new one not the old one.”
“You guys watch TV?” I’ll admit I am surprised.
“But of course, why wouldn’t we?”
“I just thought being supernatural’s with powers and some higher purpose and all…” “Silly girl. Of course we watch television. I especially like that program about the vampires because it’s so much better than the real thing.” She narrows her eyes at Luca and he slams his textbook shut and levels me with a glare.
“This is the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever had to listen to. How you managed to go from Faust to ‘The Vampire Diaries’ in the space of mere minutes I have no idea but you clearly have no interest in demonology so if you’ll excuse me.” He slides his chair out and stalks out of the room, leaving me gawking after him. Nissa leans over and pats my hand apologetically.
Ex Nihilo Academy Page 3