Chosen (9781742844657)

by Morgansen, Shayla

  Renatus half-smiled back, but it was a polite smile, without warmth or genuineness, used to cover his keen interest.

  ‘I doubt Qasim was pleased,’ he said. ‘What’s the student’s name?’

  ‘Aristea,’ Lord Gawain answered, pretending not to notice Renatus’s unusual curiosity. How ironic that he should ask about her, of all the fifty youths they’d investigated. ‘Most of her family was killed in a storm, much like the one that struck here seven years ago. Apparently it was very sudden.’

  Renatus’s smile vanished.

  ‘How did the girl survive?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask her when she arrives.’

  ‘Don’t, Renatus,’ Lady Miranda said. ‘Don’t bring that up for her.’

  The young sorcerer didn’t answer. His fine features smoothed into an expressionless, impassive visage. It was clear that he wouldn’t say anything else on the topic. It was rare for him to speak as much as he had today. He lazily flicked his fingers through the air.

  The door opened, and Lord Gawain and Lady Miranda turned. Renatus didn’t move. Still staring at the distant gate, he muttered, ‘Your tea.’

  A woman of about fifty awkwardly bustled into the study, carrying an elegant silver tray, upon which was a complete silver tea set.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ Lord Gawain said to her. Renatus’s manor was also home to a staff of servants, and this one, he recognised as Fionnuala. The housekeeper smiled quickly, laid the tray on the oak desk, and hurried out. The woman had once disliked Lord Gawain, maintaining a grudge for decisions he’d made to protect Renatus, but in recent years she’d come to forgive him, he suspected, for his part in securing a place on the White Elm for her beloved master. Lady Miranda stared after her, mildly surprised.

  ‘Fionnuala’s family has worked for mine for eight generations,’ Renatus explained before she could comment. ‘I have a staff of fifteen.’

  Lady Miranda nodded and fell silent while Lord Gawain poured the tea. Like many other councillors on the White Elm, she carried a barely-disguised fear and mistrust of Renatus. It was not baseless, but it was not substantiated by any real proof, either. The Morrissey family, from which Renatus came, had been known to the White Elm for generations as trouble. Though no charges had ever been made, rumours had always suggested that the family possessed all manner of dark objects, practised ancient branches of forbidden magic and were connected to various shady people and dealings. Dozens of inquiries and searches had turned up zero evidence, so the family’s reputation was built entirely on hearsay and intuition, but that didn’t stop people from believing.

  Renatus, for his part, had never seemed bothered by the negative attention. Doubtless he was well-accustomed to it, although the reactions of others always disappointed Lord Gawain. Where was the necessity for quick, rash judgements? Even the council’s newest recruits, who were very close in age to Renatus, avoided him.

  Aubrey, Teresa and Jadon had been brought on in the unstable weeks following Lisandro’s disappearance with Jackson and Peter. It had been a difficult process. Possibly because of the situation surrounding Lisandro, most of the young people approached by the White Elm had refused to apply for the positions, leaving only a very small pool of applicants. Teresa, a talented healer and illusionist, and Jadon, a quick-thinking twenty-year-old with an unexpectedly wide knowledge of spell casting, had been obvious choices. The good name of Aubrey’s family line and his gifts of Crafting (bending magic – a skill the White Elm had lost with Crafters Lisandro and Jackson) had secured his position. They were all brilliant, in their own ways, but all young, all idealistic. Jadon was overeager and reckless, but willing to act when it was necessary. Teresa was patient and sweet, but lacked the initiative to fight, as the council all knew they might soon be forced to do. Aubrey was compassionate and good but remained unable to comprehend the difference between what was good for the people and what was good for the person.

  In short, none of them quite lived up to the man whose betrayal had led to their employment.

  Still leaning against his desk, Renatus straightened abruptly, his gaze focussed on the gate.

  ‘What is it?’ Lady Miranda asked, accepting her tea from Lord Gawain. Renatus was silent and still for a long moment, and Lord Gawain followed his gaze. A car had pulled up outside the gates and a dark-haired girl climbed out, closing her door.

  ‘Nothing,’ was all Renatus said, and he sat down at his desk and pulled a stack of paperwork towards himself. Clearly the conversation was over.

  I got out of Angela’s car, apprehensive. She unloaded my bags from the back seat as I walked towards the Academy. Beyond the intricate, wrought iron gates stood a massive, stone structure, less a house than a mansion. It had at least four storeys, and looked to be the sort of place that had ‘wings’, like a hospital. A cobblestone path led from the distant, grand front doors directly to the gates, built slightly winding to complement the gently sloping, emerald-green hill the building was set upon.

  Directly behind the gate stood two men, one Asian and one Caucasian, and a woman dressed in royal purple robes. I didn’t recognise any of them, although if I’d read the newsletter back when they included photos, I might have. I forced a smile. They all smiled back genuinely. More confident, I walked to the gate.

  ‘Hi,’ I said uselessly.

  ‘Hello, Aristea,’ the Caucasian man said. I didn’t ask how he knew my name. His accent was Welsh, and his hair was blonde. ‘I’m Glen. This is Susannah and Tian.’

  ‘Your key will open the gate,’ Susannah said. For a moment I stood silently, and then remembered my key, hanging on a silver chain around my neck. I unclasped the chain at the back and looked for the lock. My little key fitted perfectly. The lock clinked when I turned the key, and Glen pushed open the gates.

  ‘Good afternoon, Aristea. Before you go up to the school, we need to do a few tests, if you don’t mind,’ Susannah said. She was in her forties, with wavy brown hair and a kind, round face. I could tell from the way she talked that she was from somewhere in America. She sounded like someone out of a movie.

  Securing the chain around my neck again, I glanced back at Angela. She smiled at me, showing no signs of unease, so I nodded at the White Elm representatives.

  Glen, smiling, touched my temple and said, ‘Just relax, don’t worry about me. Susannah will ask you a few questions.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said nervously, turning to the American.

  ‘So, Aristea; you have been aware of magic your whole life. Have you ever displaced before?’ Susannah asked pleasantly. I began to answer when I felt Glen’s satiny presence slip into my mind. He was probing my thoughts. I ignored him.

  ‘No,’ I told Susannah.

  ‘Can you scry?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have you ever healed another person’s injury?’

  ‘No.’ I was starting to feel a bit useless.

  ‘That’s okay. You’ll learn it all here. Now, I want you to think back through your childhood. People you’ve known, people you’ve loved, people you met in passing…Your parents, your siblings, your friends, your parents’ friends…’

  Faces from my memory popped to the forefront of my mind, and Glen scrolled through them. I did my best not to fight him. I knew which face he was looking for, and I’d never seen it, so I needed to give him a chance to realise that. I focused on Susannah’s words.

  ‘Neighbours, cousins, maybe someone you met on holidays?’

  More faces, none of consequence, I was sure. I’d led a remarkably dull life for an orphaned witch.

  ‘Your siblings’ school friends…’

  Aidan and Angela, only a year apart, had shared many friends, while I, the much younger baby sister, had followed them around like a little puppy. They and their friends had always put up with me and let me play, and Aidan had always stuck up for me when a friend had complained about my poor catching, my misunderstanding of the rules or my inability to keep up with the b
ig kids. Those were much better times.

  ‘Can you perform rudimentary level spells?’ Susannah asked. I frowned. Couldn’t Glen see all this information anyway, or was he just looking for links with White Elm enemies?

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What is the most advanced level of spell casting you have reached?’ Glen pressed. I turned to him as I thought this over. Glen was about medium height, with broad shoulders and light blonde hair. He was wearing robes of royal purple, like Susannah and the Chinese witch.

  ‘Um, I can do wards,’ I offered, unsure how else to answer. I didn’t know what level that was!

  ‘Reliably or only in controlled conditions?’

  ‘She saved my life with her first ward,’ Angela answered for me, shutting the car door now that my stuff was unloaded. ‘Her wards are really strong.’

  ‘I was in a panic – I didn’t think about it,’ I disagreed. ‘I’ve never done anything like that again.’

  Susannah smiled, and Glen withdrew from me. I felt his presence slide away. I fought the impulse to catch him.

  ‘Thank you for your patience, Aristea,’ he said. He indicated the Chinese man. ‘This is Tian. He will show you up to the Academy once you have said your goodbyes to your sister.’

  I turned to Angela, and her sad smile made me want to cry. She was my only immediate family and I was leaving her alone in our flat.

  ‘Will you be lonely?’ I asked, hoping I didn’t break down.

  ‘Kelly wants to come and stay,’ Angela answered. ‘Not sure how long I’ll be able to handle that, but we’ll see.’

  Feeling tears stinging my eyes, I hugged her tightly.

  ‘Okay. She can have my room. And Angela – I’ll miss you.’

  ‘I’ll miss you too. But make sure you write as often as you can. Okay?’

  I nodded quickly. Keeping one arm around me, she reached through the car window and withdrew a folded woollen blanket.

  ‘I think you’ll need this more than I will,’ she said, pressing it into my hands. I accepted it, confused, but as soon as I had I could feel that it was too solid and heavy to be just a blanket. I unwrapped a few layers and discovered the tattered old cover of our grandfather’s book.

  My mouth fell open. As a child I’d tried several times to sneak this beautiful old thing out of the bookcase to look at, and each time my mother had taken it from me and said it was too important to play with. It was her daddy’s, she’d explained, and it was the only thing he’d left for her. The blanket obscured most of the cover but I knew the title: Magic and Destiny, by Cassán Ó Grádaigh.

  ‘Ange-’ I began to argue; this was a family heirloom, one of so few things we had of our ancestors, but she pressed it more firmly into my hands and spoke over me.

  ‘Aristea, it’s yours. I have everything else at home. Besides, I’ve read it. It’s about time you did.’

  I hugged her again and wished this moment would last forever. Angela smiled as she pulled away from me. She turned and got back into the car. Glen shut the gates behind her. The clang of iron on iron struck me as very final and my chest tightened.

  ‘Angela!’ I said suddenly, speaking through the iron bars of the gate. I felt very alone and stupid now – why had I been so eager to come here and be separated from the only person I had left in the world? She smiled at me through the open window of her car.

  ‘I love you too, Aristea,’ she said, saving me the trouble. Looking sad, she turned the car on and drove away quickly.

  ‘Come on, sweetie,’ Susannah said kindly. I turned to them numbly, feeling small and ridiculous. What was I doing here? Glen extracted a polished platinum wand from his robe pocket and tapped the pile of my belongings. They disappeared. Displaced, undoubtedly.

  ‘Would you like those sent to your room, too?’ he asked, nodding at the book and blanket in my arms. I held them out wordlessly and then they were gone. Like Angela.

  Tian led me along the cobblestone path towards the magnificent building that was the school. His elegant royal purple robes brushed the stone beneath his feet. I looked down at my own outfit. Jeans that had been washed yesterday instead of worn and a fleecy olive green sweater. I looked presentable, which differed from usual by a great deal.

  ‘My sister told me you have to be twenty before you can join White Elm, so how come you want teenagers?’ I asked Tian. The Chinese man smiled.

  ‘Some of the senior members of the council are considering the option of taking on an apprentice from this cohort, if a suitable person should be present,’ he said, taking care with his English. ‘If they do, it is expected that they will adhere to the age-old traditions of the White Elm council, which dictate the ages of the master and apprentice, the genders and the levels of skill. Those people who are already twenty years of age are ineligible for an apprenticeship according to the old guidelines.’

  ‘If we become somebody’s apprentice, are we White Elm? Technically?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ Tian answered. ‘A sorcerer’s apprentice is bonded to him, or her, and so in the case of the White Elm, an apprentice is usually treated as an extension of the council – not as a councillor, but as an honorary member, with a distant telepathic link to the council’s whole and the right to observe council meets.’ He smiled and tried not to laugh. ‘In the past, White Elm apprentices have been referred to as White Leaves.’

  He seemed to think the nickname was quite funny, so I chose not to voice my own opinion – I thought it was a good name. Better than White Twig or White Branch, anyway.

  We had walked the entire length of the winding stone path and now stood before the manor. It was even more beautiful up close. The windows were full-length and the glass was panelled, with clear glass in the middle and intricate patterns of stained glass framing it. I looked up at the monstrous structure and saw a huge arched window in the centre of the fourth storey. I wondered what was in that room.

  ‘That’s the main study,’ Tian said as though I’d asked a question. ‘It will now be the office for the Academy’s headmaster.’

  ‘Whose house is this?’ I asked as he stepped across the threshold and into a high-ceilinged entrance hall. I followed, gazing up at the massive open doors. They opened outward, letting sunlight spill onto beautiful medieval-style papered walls. Opposite me was the beginning of a wide sweeping staircase, which I assumed took you all the way up through the houses’ levels. Tapestries and huge paintings hung everywhere, darkening the room. Thin, tall doors took the rare, small spaces between wall hangings. One was open. Tian stopped in front of it.

  ‘It belongs to a high-up member of White Elm,’ he offered, although seemed unwilling to share much information on the person. ‘It’s been in his family for untold generations. It’s covered in wards and other protective spells. It’s a very safe place to be.’

  ‘But who is he?’ I pressed keenly. ‘Is it Lord Gawain?’ I’d heard that he lived here in Ireland.

  ‘No. This house belongs to a White Elm named Renatus.’

  I frowned, stopping beside Tian. I hadn’t heard much of Renatus. He’d only entered the council within the past two years. Not many people talked about him. Not many people wanted to talk about him, perhaps. The only way I knew about his existence was that Aunt Leanne had mentioned one morning that the White Elm had enlisted a young sorcerer named Renatus – and she thought it was a strange choice. I hadn’t cared enough then to ask further questions. Tian didn’t seem willing to answer them anyway.

  ‘This is the library. This is a resource that will be open to you throughout the term, but you must treat it with respect. It is also the official meeting place in times of emergency. Today it will be where you will wait until all students have arrived. Enjoy your term.’

  With a final smile, Tian turned and walked back out of the house. Feeling apprehensive, I entered the library through its odd, thin door.

  As I walked down the few steps into the sunken library, I knew I would be spending a lot of
time here if I could. The library was high-ceilinged, old-fashioned and housed dozens of ridiculously tall, thin bookcases, all packed with books of all kinds, sizes, colours and ages. It was twenty times better than the little occult bookstore I’d been working at. I couldn’t wait to get a good look at the titles on the spines of those thousands of books.

  But as I reached the floor and was itching to run to the bookshelves, I realised that I was not alone. The library was quiet, but it was then that I noticed at least twenty other presences. The library was practically crackling with magical energy. These were some of the most potentially powerful teenage witches in the world. Some were browsing shelves. A few were standing around talking quietly. Most were sitting, either in the comfy-looking chairs against the walls, or in one of the wooden chairs that faced a podium. The wooden chairs didn’t look like permanent fixtures to the library – they were probably there just for today’s orientation.

  Most of the kids were dressed like mortals – jeans, skirts, t-shirts, etc – but two people, definitely not teenagers, were not. Like the other White Elm members I’d encountered today already, the young chestnut-haired man and the rake-thin woman sitting side-by-side in chairs on the podium were dressed in long robes of royal purple. They smiled at me when they noticed me. All the White Elm people, besides Qasim, seemed nice, open and warm people. I wondered how far up in rank these two were. They were obviously keeping an eye on the students waiting here in the library.

  Would I be able to befriend any of these other teenagers? Carefully, so as not to touch their presences with mine, I brushed my senses across the entire room. I didn’t feel any hostile presences, but then again, I wasn’t getting close enough to notice anything but general stuff. They were all strong sorcerers who were generally nice people and were quite nervous.

  With a small sigh, I began browsing the nearest bookshelf. I was in the herbs and plants section. Herbs and plants were fine, but I wasn’t too interested in that category. I couldn’t wait to learn more spells like my wards. I wanted to learn scrying.