“I agree. But we can’t.”
Goldi flits to me and points the lollipop at my nose. “You.” Her sweet, singsong voice makes me wince.
“What?” I ask, breathless.
“You have to go home,” finishes Goldi.
A wave of shock rolls down my limbs. “What do you mean?”
“What she means,” says Pops, “is that Goldi here is our expert in all types of magic, but especially doorways. If there’s any way to get you into any one of our schools, Goldi would know it.”
Mums adjusts the straps of her overalls. “You sure you got magic?” For a teacher, her grammar is pretty sucktastic.
“Am I sure that I have magic?” I ask, subtly correcting her.
“That’s what I done said,” replies Mums. I glance at the other teachers. No one is correcting Mums. Instead, they’re all staring at me like I have two heads.
Well, okay then.
“Have you heard of the Denarii leader Jules?” I ask. If anything will prove I have magic, it’s how I battled that evil character. I broke through about a thousand ropes of enchanted thorns before I blasted him with so much magic, the big bad basically imploded.
Oh, I have magic all right. Not that I could do that trick again on demand.
Not yet, anyway.
“The Denarii are guardians of magic in our world,” says Babs in her gentle voice. “It was such a shame when they disbanded.”
Goldi sighs. “How we loved them.”
Shock tingles across my skin. Love Denarii? Seriously? I open my mouth, ready to say the Denarii were actually evil zombie-mummies and their leader, Jules, was a two-thousand-year-old Julius Caesar and a psychopath.
All of a sudden, I notice all the other principals are nodding with Babs while murmuring stuff like “those wonderful Denarii.”
I press my lips closed. Once upon a time, I thought the Denarii were the good guys, too. That is, until their leader tried to eat my organs and turn me into his unwilling zombie bride for eternity. Talk about a bad moment.
Mums tilts her head. “What? You got somethin’ to share ’bout the Denarii? Was such a shame they all got killed.”
“Nothing to share, come to think of it.” Unfortunately, the words come out far too bright to be believable. “Do you want to see me shift or something? I’ve been practicing, and I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”
Babs sighs. “This is why we have the doors, Miss Bryar. You can have an enchantment on you that makes you think you’re Magicorum, but it might all be glamour.” She glares at Goldi while she says the “glamour” part.
Goldi chuckles, a low-pitched sound that’s oddly unsettling. “I might do that from time to time. But only on Magicorumettes.” That’s a not-so-sensitive name for regular humans who are related to Magicorum, but don’t have any power on their own. “But certainly not on any Magicorumettes who’ve been invited to attend West Lake Prep.” She slaps the lollipop against her palm again. “Except last year, but that was a mistake.”
Babs lifts her brows. “And the year before that?”
“Another mistake,” says Goldi.
Mums clears her throat. “And the year before—”
“Fine, I do it all the time,” says Goldi. “But I didn’t cast anything on this girl.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Are principals supposed to use magic that way?”
Goldi lifts her chin. “Fairy principals, sure.” Her singsong voice really leans into the word sure. I was raised by three fairy aunties. Over the years, I’ve seen the nutty things that the fae can do. Giving birthday presents of shoes to make their mortal owners dance themselves to death. Paying debts with chests of gold that are actually dried leaves. Glamouring ski slopes so all the paths actually lead straight off a cliff. For the fae, making someone think they’re Magicorum is actually pretty low on the cruelty scale.
Boom … Boom …
A thudding noise sounds from the wall behind me. I suck in a quick breath. Spinning around, there’s no missing the tricolored door shaking on its hinges.
Boom … Boom…
“What’s that?” asks Mums.
The faintest scent of sandalwood and musk hits my nostrils.
“That’s Knox,” I whisper. “He’s trying to break in.”
With that, my inner wolf leaps inside my soul. “Our mate is coming! Knox is so handsome and strong! Can we howl and encourage him?”
“No.”
“Yip maybe?”
“Double no.”
She huffs out a breath and turns away. “You’re zero fun.”
Back in the visible world, Babs waves her hand. “Let him try. I personally recast the wards on that door every day. No one is strong enough to break through them.”
BOOM! The door splinters. Knox stands framed in the shattered remains of the door jamb. He’s all leather jacket, bulging muscles, and unbridled rage.
Inside my soul, my wolf yips with glee. “Our mate is here! I knew he’d come. Let’s play with the golden-haired fairy chew toy.”
“Let’s not.”
Knox stalks across the room, his boots thudding on the tiled floor. He pulls me into a deep hug. I lean in to his hold. It’s been a tough morning.
“You smell of fear.” Knox turns to glare at the principals. “What did you do to her?”
There’s a long silence where the principals stare at Knox, open mouthed. Babs is the first to break the silence. “How did you do that? I set the wards myself.”
Knows growls. His eyes flare with golden light. After that, the golden hue moves across his entire body, including his clothes. I press my hands against his jacket. He still feels like the same Knox, only every inch of him shines with golden energy. It’s like dating an Oscar statue.
Wow. I had no idea Knox could do this.
“I’m the warden of shifter magic,” says Knox.
“We didn’t realize,” whispers Mum.
“I don’t advertise it,” counters Knox. “But I am. So whatever power you think you have, it’s nothing compared to warden energy. And Bryar Rose here? She’s stronger than I am. Show some respect.”
The principals all share looks with raised brows. They’ve gone silent. Even so, there’s no question what they’re thinking.
If Bryar Rose were so powerful, she’d be able to walk through a door.
Knox exhales, and the magic fades from his body. He turns to me. “You want to go? You don’t need to take this.”
The question echoes through my soul. Do I want to leave?
Memories appear. Staring at a book for hours, trying to figure out algebra on my own. Hearing other kids play outside while I was locked in the penthouse with my sleeping curse. Rearranging kitchen chairs into a classroom and pretending other kids were there with me. My entire childhood, I wanted to be in school. Now, I’m here. I only have one more year to experience what it’s like to be a student. Maybe I’ll hate it, but I have to try.
I straighten my shoulders. “Thanks, but I want to stay.”
“What about you?” Babs motions to Knox. “What’s your fairy-tale life template?”
“Yeah,” grumbles Pops. “We should know that afore you get into the den.”
Knox pales. I catch the barest scent of earth and rain from him. Sadness. Now, Knox has tried to tell me his life template before, but I know that, whatever it is, it’s a major point of shame and grief. I told him I don’t care what his template is, and I don’t. Stepping forward, I move to stand right between Knox and the principals. I may want to go to high school, but not enough for them to hurt my mate.
“Look here,” I say. “That means you, too, Principal Goldi.” The fae leader keeps flitting around, so I snap my fingers at her. “I said, here.”
Once I’m sure I have all their attention, I keep going. “I’ve read all your rules and bylaws online. There’s nothing in there about knowing anyone’s template. And that stuff doesn’t really matter, anyway. It’s who you are that counts, not how someone else defi
nes you, even if that someone is magic.” The principals stare at me, their eyes wide and jaws open. “You should be helping us realize our best selves, not playing into stupid stereotypes.”
Pops’ weathered face slumps with a look that can only be described as “guilty as hell.” I scan the other faces. All the principals look regretful as all get-out, too. I lace my fingers with Knox’s.
“You know what? Maybe I don’t want to be here after all. Let’s go.”
At that moment, Elle strides through the smashed-up door. Or, rather, she steps across what was left of it. “Wait there, Bry. Please.”
There are very few things that would keep me in this room right now: a major gun battle in the stairway leading downstairs. A freezing spell from someone as powerful as the Colonel. Or Elle asking me to wait. It’s a girl thing. I’m not leaving my bestie alone.
Babs frowns. “Who’s this?”
“I’m Elle.”
“She’s one of mine.” Goldi wrinkles her nose. “Do you have a glamour on or something? Why can’t I see your wings?” She snaps her fingers. “Show them, now.”
“I don’t have to do that,” Elle says confidently. All the same, she swishes her hair over her face. I know my best friend. She does that to hide when she’s upset.
I frown. Elle has wings? I suppose it makes sense. All the other fae I’ve seen have wings. Somehow, I just never thought Elle would.
Elle lifts her chin. “And my wings are nobody’s business anyway.” There’s a warble in her voice, though. This whole conversation is upsetting my bestie. I move to stand by Elle’s side.
“She totally doesn’t have to show her wings,” I say. “I read that in your bylaws.”
Goldi purses her tiny mouth. “You sure?”
“Absolutely,” I say. “You guys post way too much stuff on your website.” Which is true. The fact that there’s a bylaw about wings is a total lie, though.
“Oh,” says Goldi slowly. “In that case, it’s fine.”
For the record, what the fae don’t know about technology is a lot.
Elle sighs with relief, and I could cheer. We so have each other’s backs.
Now Alec strides into the room. He’s all tanned face, bright smile, and charm, charm, charm. He walks over and shakes all the principals’ hands in succession, while repeating the same phrase.
“Alec Le Charme, nice to see you again.”
It’s interesting to see how the principals react to Alec. Mums blushes. Pops pumps Alec’s hand with fervor. Babs fans herself with her hands, like she’s at a boy band concert and Alec is the lead singer. Goldi is the only one who seems immune to his charm. In fact, she makes a point to rub her lollipop across her hand before shaking his. When Goldi and Alec are finished with their greeting, long strings of lollipop goo stretch between their palms. If that grosses out Alec, he doesn’t show it. Impressive.
Alec’s greeting doesn’t derail Goldi from her wing thing. She’s had a few minutes to think over my website comment and is ready for round two.
Goldi looks to Babs. “I can change the internets, can’t I?”
“Sure thing,” says Babs.
Goldi grins and rounds on Elle. “Then as of this moment, I, Goldi, Principal of the Silvery Galleries, do hereby require every fae to show their wings.” She flutters over to Elle. “Now, where are your wings, young lady? We don’t have fake fae here.”
Still grinning, Alec wraps his arm around Elle’s shoulder. “Didn’t I tell you? Elle here is my third cousin twice removed. Part human, part fae. All Magicorumette. And she’s from Norway.” He says that last part like it explains everything. However, when Alec starts grinning, you want to believe whatever he says.
Goldi smiles back. “Magicorumette. Why didn’t you say so before? In that case, it’s all fine.” I don’t like the evil gleam in Goldi’s eyes, though. After her other story, I get the feeling that Magicorumette kids aren’t safe in the Silver Gallery.
“And I’ll tell you what else will be fine.” Alec hitches his thumb in my direction. “Bry here. She’ll be more than fine, as a matter of fact. My parents and I are confident she’ll be an amazing addition to our little community.”
At these words, the principals stop being dazzled by Alec and go back to considering me some kind of menace. Mums and Pops lean back in their chairs, folding their thick arms over their overalls. Babs purses her lips. Goldi narrows her overlarge eyes.
Clearly, the principals aren’t convinced I should be here. With that realization, my eyes sting, which doesn’t make any sense. I mean, a minute ago, I was ready to walk away from this place. Why does it make a difference to walk away versus get kicked out?
Somehow, it does.
I clear my throat and try to regain my sense of righteous anger from earlier. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m leaving.”
Alec steps to block my exit through the massive door hole. “My family made a big donation to build a workstation for assembling papyri. You put it in the study annex behind the building. Bry here is the only one who can use it.”
Babs drums her tiny fingers on the tabletop. “Anyone can use a workstation.”
“No, we’ve been trying for thousands of years to reassemble the Book of Isis, all so we can find and activate the fountain of all magic.” Alec takes in a long breath. Like Knox, his skin changes. In Alec’s case, he becomes solid and translucent. It’s like his body was carved from a single, massive ruby gem. “Look, I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’m the warden of magic for all witches and warlocks.”
Babs freezes. “I didn’t know that.”
“Knox and I don’t advertise it, but yes, we’re both wardens. You know how important it is to my parents that I produce a legitimate heir. No fountain, no marriage, no family. It’s critical that Bry work on the papyri.”
Mums leans forward. “But Bryar Rose can do that anywhere.”
Alec pinches the bridge of his nose. “What I’m saying is that my parents built a workstation here. It’s in the lower levels, right?” All the principals nod. “So Bry can still go to school; she can just work on the papyri.” Alec pulls out his cell phone and starts texting. “My parents are about to make a big donation, aren’t they?”
Across the room, Mums raps the tabletop with her thick knuckles. “How big?”
Alec finishes texting and flashes the screen at the principals. “This big.”
Goldi flits around at double speed, a super-wide smile on her face. “In that case, it’s so exciting to have you here, Bryar Rose. I’ll ask every one of my teachers and students to work on some kind of spell to help you get through the doors to our part of the school, the Silver Gallery.”
“I’ll do the same,” offers Babs. “No one will rest until Bry is in the Crimson Keep with the other witches and warlocks; only, you must stay at West Lake and work on the papyri. Please.”
Mums leans back in her chair. “Let’s see if the donation comes through. Until then, she’s in.”
“I agree,” adds Pops.
“Well, then,” says Babs. “It’s official.” She looks at me and grins. “You’re accepted on a provisional basis.”
Alec punches the air with his fist. “Yes.”
Knox leans in to whisper in my ear. “What do you say?”
I glance at the overly hopeful faces of the principals. “I don’t trust them.”
Knox lowers his voice to a level only I can hear. “Neither do I. But I don’t think there’s any deep hidden meaning here. They want to make one of their major donors happy; that’s all.”
Alec raises his pointer finger at the principals. “Give us a moment, won’t you?” He and Elle step over to join me and Knox.
“What do you think, Bry?” asks Elle.
I hug my elbows more tightly. “I don’t know.”
“The West Lake kids seem nice,” says Elle. “There are even a few girls here from our Magicorum Teen Therapy Group. They were asking about you. But …” Elle sighs. “That alone isn’t enou
gh for you to stay. Whatever you choose, you know I’ve got your back.”
Alec steps in closer. “Look, all magic is going haywire these days. If you give me some time, I’ll figure out how to fix the doors.” Alec looks almost desperate. “I won’t lie. We need your help to translate those papyri.”
Knox shakes his head. “I already told Bry. She can refuse to translate another glyph. It doesn’t matter.” There’s that scent again, copper and smoke. The veins in his neck darken. Knox hisses in a short breath.
My mate is in pain.
I press my palms over my eyes. There was a reason why I didn’t want to translate papyri anymore, wasn’t there? Now, I can’t remember what it was. I lower my hands. Alec looks so sad. Knox grits his teeth in pain. And Elle looks close to tears.
“Well,” I say slowly, “it wouldn’t hurt to take a look at the workstation, would it?”
Alex exhales. “That’s the spirit.” He turns to face the principals. “She’s on board.”
“You’ll just love the workstation,” adds Goldi. “I’ll take you there right now.”
Now, I know fae enough to realize one thing. The workstation will be anything but lovable. But I’ve faced down zombie-mummies, crazy fae queens, and my evil aunties. I can handle this. Let Goldi do her worst. The bottom line stays the same. I can’t stand by while Knox gets sicker. If translating those papyri can help my mate, that’s what I’ll do.
Even so, as Goldi leads me and Knox away from the principals’ office, some small part of me keeps screaming danger. I shake the feeling off and refocus. What’s the problem with translating papyri? Some small voice in my head keeps whispering the same advice, over and over.
You don’t know the problem. That’s the real trouble.
Chapter 10
A few minutes later, Knox and I stand in a darkened basement filled with spiders, dust, and—I’m pretty sure about this last part—at least a dozen rats hiding in the corners. Everything is rough stone and packed dirt. A tarp covers the far wall. There are no signs of cockroaches, though. Total bright side.
Goldi flits beside my shoulder. “How do you like the basement of West Lake Prep? Not the posh accommodations you’re used to, am I right?” A sly smile stretches her cherub-like face. She’s totally expecting me to crumple into a pile of blubbering teenager because of some dust and rats. She’s wrong.
Shifters And Glyphs Page 8