Spearwood Academy Volume One (The Spearwood Academy Book 1)

by A. S. Oren

“Kearn, thank you.”

  He turns again, and this time he leaves. I close the door and put a hand to my chest. I hope my heart doesn’t come out of it. He is so attractive with his English accent and his eyes.

  I look down at the box in my hand. The glass inside it glints in the light of the room. I’ll put the pieces back together somehow before I see Edgar again.

  Going into my room, I place the box on one of the white, cubed shelves with my books. It’ll be safe here. Leaving my room, I go into the bathroom. The massive size of it still overwhelms me. I don’t think I’ll ever need a bathroom this large. The tub is wide and deep enough to go swimming in, and the shower doubles as a sauna. The sink appears more like a fountain, and the mirror stretches across the wall. Like the rest of my place, it’s decorated in whites and pale gold.

  I stare at myself in the mirror and pull at my shirt, so plain compared to the extravagance of the school. Well, I look as good as I’m going to get.

  Putting on my old, black high-tops, I sit and wait for Horace to walk me down to the dining hall. I pull Enid’s card out of the pocket of my shirt and wait for her to assemble in the air.

  “How may I help you, Avalon?” she asks.

  “Please tell me about the other things you’re capable of doing.”

  “I can shape shift into a laptop for you, access the internet, act as a GPS and navigate you around the school here. I can also manage your schedule. If there is something you desire, I can have it ordered and shipped here, or I have a servant retrieve it for you. My looks and personality can be customized; do you wish to customize me now?”

  “You’re fine as you are.” I reach out and touch her. She feels like a human: her skin soft and warm. “What are you made of?”

  She cocks her head to the side. A deep voice comes through her. “That information is classified.”

  I frown. Well, that’s not suspicious. Another knock at my door. Has to be Horace this time. I hold out my hand, and Enid folds up. I place her back into the front pocket of my shirt. I open the door. “Ready to start your first day of school, Fire?” Dante asks. He leans against the frame of my door. The other boys stand behind him.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” I close the door behind me.

  “That’s as ready as anyone can ever be when it comes to school,” Triton says.

  We start walking. “Did you sleep well?” Amr asks. “I know I had problems getting used to a new room when I first got here.”

  I shrug. “I slept okay. It was waking up that was the hard part.” I rub my neck where a knot has formed from sleeping on the marble floor. I need to try to wake up after I change back, so I can sleep an hour or two in that bed.

  “I hear you. I wish school started at noon. I need at least ten hours of beauty sleep, and here I only get eight. They’re cruel, I tell you, cruel. How am I supposed be beautiful if I don’t get my beauty sleep?” Dante asks. He flips his dark hair over his shoulder.

  “You’d need more than ten hours of beauty sleep to repair your ugly face,” Amr says.

  Dante pouts and places a hand over his heart. “Your words cut me deep, Radcliffe.”

  “You’ll get over it,” Horace says, playing with something in his hands.

  “Do you see how I’m treated, Fire? It’s unjust.”

  I can’t help but to snicker at his antics. The Hands on the Orchard used to be the only ones who could make me laugh. At least, I now know I’ll laugh here too. It’ll help stop me from being miserable.

  “Here, Avvi. This is your schedule for your first quarter here.” Horace hands me a small computer chip. I look at him, waiting for him to tell me how it works. “Push it into the P.A. card.”

  I pull itout of my pocket and put the chip against it. Gently, I start to push. To my amazement, it sinks into the material as if it was never there to begin with. “Wow.” A few seconds pass before a green grid forms across the card. The next three hours are at the top, and below it, lists a class for the hour. Classes start at eight. My first class is Magic tutor,, and it lasts until ten.

  “I think the only class none of us share with you is the magic tutor. Your P.A. can show you where it is.”

  “Couldn’t she do that with showing me how to get to the dining hall too?” I ask, watching them. They don’t have to walk me to the dining hall for every meal; they choose to.

  Horace clears his throat. “Well, yes she could. Don’t you like the company? What if Mirren tries to retaliate for what you did to his face while you’re walking the halls in the morning?”

  “I do like the company, but I’m not afraid of Mirren. He’s just another brute of a bully. I’ve handled worse than him before I was home schooled.”

  We’ve finally made it to the dining hall. Horace nods to the doorkeepers; they bow and open the doors. Seriously, I feel bad for these poor doorkeepers. How the Hell do they stay awake?

  Dante leads us up to the balcony seating, and we take the table we sat at yesterday. The others watch me in silence again. How many days will I have to be here before they get used to the fact that a girl is now here to stay? I can still hear them whisper to each other about what I did to Mirren in the courtyard.

  The menus come, and to my surprise, it is different from the one I first saw yesterday. This one has more breakfast meals that I recognize, like pancakes. I decide to try blueberry pancakes. I’ve never had them before. With that, I get some vanilla soymilk. Like most people over the age of twelve, lactose and I aren’t friends.

  “So how do you like your rooms?” Triton asks. He’s the only one who’s has actually seen them.

  I shrug. “It’s all a bit much for my tastes, but I grew up in a small little country home on an apple orchard, so most of this place is on the extreme side for me.”

  “It is for most of us too,” Amr says.

  “With every new headmaster this place gets gutted and redesigned. The only place Roseman and Perlow didn’t touch when he became Headmaster was the classroom area. No Headmaster has touched that area in at least sixty years. No one knows why,” Horace says.

  Now the sporadic interior design makes sense.

  “I liked the backhanded comment you gave Roseman when he asked you if you liked your rooms. I don’t think he or Mich knew how to take it.” Triton laughs.

  I look at him. He uses the first name of Perlow, and he was the one Perlow called on to watch me while on the jet, yet he is a freshmen. I wonder what their relationship is.

  Breakfast passes by in a flash. and soon it is time for my two hour tutoring session to learn magic. I take Enid out, and she leads me through the halls of classrooms. Eventually, no one walks around us at all. I must be in the Backwaters of the classrooms. She stops in front of a small classroom that isn’t much bigger than my closet and folds back into her card state.

  I inch the door open and peer inside. A dim lightbulb hangs from the center of the ceiling off a thin string. My eyes strain to see past the dark shadows of the room. A single small desk sits opposite the teacher’s desk. A boy, who doesn’t look much older than me, sits behind the teacher’s desk, his entire body hunched over a book; a hand rests in his hair.

  “Hello,” I say as I step into the room.

  The boy jumps—I think I almost gave him a heart attack—and looks up at me. It’s the boy who Mirren had been fighting with before I intervened. “I thought you were going to be in the infirmary for a few days?” I say.

  He stands from the desk, his brown eyes almost hidden behind thick black Hipster glasses. “Mr. Perlow requested I have my healing sped up. He wanted me to be your magic tutor. Considering I have the highest grade for magic use in the school, that is understandable.” Is he arrogant or stating a fact? He walks over to me and holds out his hand. “I’m Derren Bullock, Miss Clementine.”

  “Avalon, please.”

  He motions to the single desk. “Miss Clementine, please take a seat.”

  I bite my tongue. I take the seat, and he clears his throat. “I have been t
asked with the job of tutoring you in the type of magic the Families use. You will address me as Mr. Bullock.”

  Is he for real? He needs to take it down a step or two. We’re on the same peer level. This is ridiculous.

  “Get the fanciful ideas of magic out of your head. We don’t use wands, and colored energy doesn’t flow from our fingers. Our magic is intent and intent alone.”

  He lifts his hand and focuses on a red apple that sits on the teacher’s desk. I watch cuts form, and a wedge lifts away from the apple, floats into the air, and into his hand. He takes a bite and looks to me. “Many things can be done this way, but first, we need to figure out which element you have the most control over.”

  “Which element I have the most control over?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Yes. Everyone has an element to which they are in tuned with. Mine is air. Thus, when I came into my dragon powers, I became an air dragon.”

  I nod as if I’m supposed to know all of this already. “So how do I figure out what element I have?”

  “Like this.” He waves his arm across his desk. Before my eyes, five small glass bowls appear as if they materialized then and there out of nothing. Inside each is a different element: a flame, water, a feather, dirt, and something silver.

  “What is that one?” I point to the bowl.

  “Melted silver metal. Come here.”

  I stand and go over to the desk. I look at him to tell me what to do next. “Place your hand over each of them, and the one that reacts the most is your element.”

  I start with fire, putting my hand above the flame. It flickers but doesn’t do much more than that. The water ripples. The feather bounces but never leaves the bowl. The dirt doesn’t do a thing, and the silver swirls slowly. I look at Derren. He frowns. “None of them reacted as they should have.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “Go wait outside the classroom; I have to speak to someone.”

  I lift my eyebrow but leave the classroom. I’m glad to be away from him.

  After a while, with boredom easing into my mind, a bell rings. The first hour must be up. I sigh and sit down with my back against the wall. He’s probably just reading his book.

  Some guys start to pass me as they go to their next class. At least I’m not the only one with a class in the Backwaters.

  “Hey, Princess!” I glance up from the floor. Mirren strides toward me. Great. I stand, and he slams his fists into the wall on both sides of my head. I have to look up to stare him in the eyes. His scars look nasty and red going across his face.

  “Fix it. That quack doctor says that you’re the only one who can.”

  “I don’t know how to. I don’t even know how I cursed you in the first place. Even if I did, I wouldn’t help you.”

  He growls, and one of his arms changes into its dragon form. “Go ahead,” I say. There my mouth goes again, no longer talking to my brain.

  How am I going to get out of this one? I don’t think I can do a repeat of last time, and this time there are no witnesses around either. He could kill me, and no one would know who did it.

  I close my eyes and wait for the blow.

  The door creeks open. Opening my eyes, a man stands there, looking serene, a small emerald embedded in the center of his forehead. He wears a tailored royal blue suit. Something about him makes stomach roll with nausea. “Oh, have I interrupted something? Please, do continue.” His voice like helium. A chill runs down my spine. He sounds happy that my blood is about to spill.

  I look back a Mirren. He looks at the man with a mixture of both shaking fear and eye squinting distrust. He takes a knee and bows to the man; his right arm goes across his chest. “Do not mind us, my lord. Our quarrel can be resolved another day. I beg your forgiveness for causing havoc.” So formal. It sounds weird coming from his mouth.

  The man makes a tutting sound. “Stand, boy, and finish what you were about to do.”

  I brace myself. Mirren stands and leans down into me, his face uncomfortably close to mine. He better not be doing what I think he’s doing. I lean away from him, but the wall stops me from moving any further. With a rough hand, he pushes my face to the side and places a quick kiss on my cheek. What in the Hell? “This is not over,” he whispers in my ear.

  He turns to the man. “My next class has started. I apologize, but I must take leave.” This time he bows low at the waist and walks away like his feet have caught fire. I watch him go. I rub the feeling of his kiss off my cheek.

  The man lets out a whine. I turn to look at him. He pouts. “Pity. I was hoping he would tear you limb from limb. It’s been too long since I have seen a fight. Come along, girl. He is waiting for you.”

  Is he talking about Bullock?

  ANICENT ONE

  Iwalk into the room. Perlow stands next to the desk. He fidgets with his hands. Someone in a brown monk robe, their face hidden by a hood, stands next to him. I can just make out a hint of his hand.

  “Bow,” Perlow says.

  Bow? The tone of his voice tells me he’s not messing around. I start to bow but stop when the hooded figure holds up his hand. His hand is shifted in the dragon form, but his dark brown scales are old, dull, and chipped, his emerald talons nothing but nubs.

  The man with the emerald embedded in the center of his forehead speaks. “Leave her; she does not know our customs yet. A child should not bow unless they know who they are showing respect to.”

  Perlow bows at the waist as does Bullock. “Yes, Ancient one,” Perlow says.

  Emerald man speaks again. “Tell me child, which element do you feel most in tuned with?”

  “I don’t know. I have never preferred any of them over the other.”

  The hooded figure holds out his hand. “Give me a strand of your hair.” I wonder why the Emerald man talks for the hooded figure. It is like the hooded figure is speaking through him, but the hooded figure also has a different personality than the Emerald man. He doesn't seem evil like the Emerald man does. I don't think he would drool over the notion that there might be a fight where he would see blood.

  Bullock hands me a pair of scissors. I cut a small strand of my golden curls. I walk over to the hooded man and place the curl in his hand. His mangled fingers fold over it and a yellow light shines out from between his fingers.

  “You will teach her the art of magic without focusing on one element. This is how it will be.”

  Both Bullock and Perlow kneel before the hooded man and put their arms across their chest. “Yes, Ancient one.”

  The hooded man walks forward and places a hand on my shoulder. A warmth moves through my body. ‘Stay strong, Avalon. Do not fall victim to their corrupt ways. One day, you will have all the answers you seek. Remain true to yourself. We will meet again,’ says a voice inside my head.

  I nod, and he removes his hand. He walks away, and the Emerald man follows. As soon as the door closes behind them, Perlow and Bullock breathe a sigh of relief. Perlow turns to Bullock. “You heard the Ancient one, teach her in all forms of our magic. You know your reward if you succeed at this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Perlow goes to leave. “Mr. Perlow, wait,” I say. He stops and looks at me. “That meeting, I haven’t got an email yet. I have a lot of questions.”

  “I’ll have Jessica send you an email soon. Be watching for it.”

  I can tell he is lying. He gets twitchy when he lies. If I want answers, I’ll have to get them on my own. I can’t wait for him to set a date that’ll never happen.

  Once Perlow leaves, I turn to Bullock. “Who were those men?” I ask.

  “One was an Ancient and the other was his speaker. The Ancient is one of the last shifters who was alive when the Sun God blessed us with the power to shape shift. To live that long, he has remained in his dragon form for a thousands of years. Because of that, when he is needed to turn into his human form, he still has a dragon-like appearance and has lost his ability to physically speak. He uses the Speaker to communicate.


  “The jewel you saw in the middle of his forehead amplifies his ability to hear the Ancient one without the need to be touching him. From now on, you will need to bow to them when you see them. They are the most honored members of the Families.”

  A bell rings again, signaling the end of the second hour. Bullock sighs. “We’ll continue your lessons tomorrow. Here is a list of books you can get from the library; they are all about our magic and the history. Read them in your own time, and ask me any questions you may have.” He hands over a chip. I take it and push it into Enid’s card.

  “All right, thanks.”

  He gives me a dismissive gesture with his head, and I leave the room. A real piece of work, that one.

  “Fire! How was magic class?” I jump and turn. Dante stands across the hall from the door as I come out of the small classroom.

  “It was interesting. An Ancient was there.”

  Dante stands up straighter. “Is he still here?”

  “No, he left.”

  He relaxes. “Why was he here? He isn’t normally brought in for small affairs.”

  “Bullock brought him in after my element test was inconclusive. The Ancient told him to teach me in all forms of magic. He didn’t tell us what element I am in tune with. I still don’t fully understand what that means, but I have a list of books I can get from the library that will help me understand.”

  “Isn’t that the job of your tutor? Who is he anyway?”

  “Me,” Bullock says as he comes out of the classroom.

  Dante stares at him for a second before he points at him. “Aren’t you the guy whose butt Fire saved yesterday? Mirren would’ve killed you otherwise. How are you up and walking around anyway?”

  “Perlow had my recovery sped up. I didn’t ask her to step in.” He walks off. He limps. I wonder if he’s in pain and trying to hide it. What exactly did Perlow promise him in exchange for him to tutor me?

  “Well, he seems like a ball of sunshine. C’mon, you and I have the thrilling class of English III.”

  It turns out the rest of my classes are normal. The only one that wouldn’t be found in a normal high school are the magic lessons.