by Cheree Alsop
The offer of a bed was more generous than I could have hoped for. Phasing into wolf form took a toll. Sitting there in the middle of the hallway, I found I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. Despite the fact that he was a complete stranger, something told me that I could trust him. My other option was to try to get back out to the forest, but the thought of the slamming doors and strange corridors wasn’t a welcome one.
I rose and walked toward him.
“Oh, okay,” he said, backing up slightly. “Does that mean yes?”
I paused and gave a short nod.
“Ha!” he said. “If my parents could see me now; I’m communicating with a wolf! They might even be impressed.”
He opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open behind him.
I followed him into the room, aware of how he took an additional step to place himself behind the door when I passed by.
It was clear by the crumpled blankets which bed was his. I climbed onto the other one and fell heavily on my side. The trickle of moonlight through the window brushed my paws. I pulled them in so the light couldn’t touch them and glanced at the boy.
“The moonlight reveals our truth,” he replied, giving the light a knowing look. He held out his hand so that it fell on his palm. To my surprise, his flesh disappeared to leave gray bones. He shut his hand and the bones curled inward. He pulled the limb back out of the moonlight and the flesh returned.
Since I couldn’t do more than stare, that’s exactly what I did.
The boy looked around quickly. I didn’t know what he was searching for. He shut the door behind him and held out the same hand. “I’m Alden Grim.”
He paused as if the name usually elicited some sort of reaction. I gave a snort at the proffered appendage.
He pulled it back and another blush of embarrassment showed on his cheeks. “Right. I guess you can’t exactly shake, well, not in the human sense. Dogs can shake, right?” His eyes widened as if he realized what he had just said. “N-not that you’re a dog. I mean no offense. I-I’m sorry.”
A yawn escaped me, baring my teeth as my mouth opened so wide my jaw felt like it would crack.
To his credit, Alden didn’t so much as flinch.
“Sleep, then,” he said. “You’ll hear the bell in the morning. Morning’s better here; trust me.”
I hoped he was right. My eyes shut against my will. He waited for a moment, then I heard him climb into his own bed. I wondered how long it would take for my thoughts to slow down enough for me to sleep. My mind drifted off before the question could take shape.
Chapter Four
A bell jolted me from sleep. I sat up so fast at the unaccustomed sound it took me a moment to realize that I wasn’t wearing any clothes. I pulled the sheets closer around me and met the gaze of the boy sitting on the bed across the small room. The events of the night before hit me in a rush. I didn’t know what to say or do.
Alden was already dressed, his black and blue school uniform buttoned up and his hair combed. He looked away as soon as he met my gaze.
“Sorry. I was wondering when you’d be up,” he said. He rose and held out a bundle of clothes. “I hope you don’t mind. My old roommate left these. He was taller than me, so I thought they might fit.” He paused, then said, “Though I thought, given your wolf form, that you would be taller than you are. Professor Tripe said matter can’t change mass, only form during a phase, so it must go somewhere.” He gave me an expectant look as though hoping I would have an answer.
“I don’t know what happens,” I told him. “It’s all new to me.”
He nodded quickly. “Right. It’s an age thing with werewolves, isn’t it? That had to be quite the surprise, unless you were expecting it.”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
He gave a whistle. “I can’t imagine how that went. Thinking you’re human and then whoosh, you’re a wolf. Crazy.” He seemed to realize he was rambling and held out the bundle. “Here.”
I took the clothes. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
He nodded and hurried to the door. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he called over his shoulder. “Though if we don’t hurry, the warlocks will eat all the breakfast.”
I was left to muse over what a warlock was as I shrugged into the shirt and pulled on the pants. I wished I had shoes, but at least I wasn’t naked any longer. The school uniform was worn but clean, even if it smelled slightly of dust.
I opened the door to see students rushing past. Several still wore pajamas and had mussed hair as if Alden wasn’t the only one worried about missing breakfast.
“Thanks for the uniform,” I told him as I followed him down the stairs.
“You’re welcome. We’ll get you some shoes and your own uniforms after we eat,” he replied.
My stomach growled at the smell of maple bacon and sausage, cheesy scrambled eggs, buttermilk pancakes, hardboiled eggs, hash browns, buttery grits, orange juice, and chocolate milk seasoned with cinnamon. My mouth was watering by the time I followed Alden through the door to the cafeteria at the far end of the first floor.
I forgot my hunger at the sight that met my eyes.
Rows of school lunch tables occupied most of the room. Students walked through doors to my right and came out carrying trays laden with food. Near where I stood, another set of doors contained the drop-off area for used trays, plates, and utensils. There, the similarities to my previous high school ended.
Students with green skin sat next to several who looked as though their hands, arms, and faces were covered in scales. Tables were filled with boys and girls with spikes instead of hair, along with horns, feathers, extra arms, tentacles, hair that looked like it was made out of flames, faces with double sets of eyes, beaks instead of mouths, and one who had eyes on the back of his shaved head. They blinked at me when I made eye contact.
“Come on,” Alden urged, ushering me forward. “The warlocks will be here soon and then we’ll be out of luck. They have huge appetites.”
I followed him numbly through the door, was handed a tray by a boy with pink eyes, and shuffled behind Alden to food that looked boring compared to the men and women who served it.
“T-thank you,” I mumbled when a woman scooped scrambled eggs from a bowl using lobster-like claws instead of hands.
At the next station, a man with oven mitts on several blue tentacles served grits, gravy, a sprinkle of cheese, and a slice of butter in a wave of utensils. His eyes narrowed and I realized I was staring instead of moving along like the rest of the students.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
I had no idea what else was put on my tray as I slid it along behind Alden’s. I grabbed it and walked through the door at the end in a haze.
The moment I cleared the door, a hand slammed down on my tray, knocking it to the floor. I found myself surrounded by a group of students. The sight of their pale skin and piercing yellow eyes sent a chill down my spine.
The one who had knocked my tray from my hands glared at me. He appeared to be close to my age, but it was hard to tell for sure. His lips revealed elongated fangs when he said, “You’re the one who scared my sister last night in the hallway.”
I shook my head. “It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to scare her.”
He looked over his shoulder and I followed his gaze to the girl with the long black hair I had seen the night before. She stood near the furthest wall with her arms held tightly around her waist. She gave a barely perceptible nod.
“See,” the boy growled. He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me closer. “We don’t like werewolves here.”
A heavy scent of blood rushed across my face with his breath. The feeling of being in danger surged through me with a tremor of instinct that bade me to turn into wolf form.
“You’re a threat here, weremutt,” the boy said, his face inches from mine. “You can’t stay.”
I struggled to keep the wolf in check. Thoughts of tearing his throat open with wolven
fangs longer than those I saw in his mouth forced their way into my mind. I closed my eyes, but the images became more pronounced. I couldn’t hear anything beside his ragged breathing and the gurgle of my own breath past his tight hold.
“Attack me,” he said, his voice now a taunting whisper. “Attack me and you’ll be gone for good.”
His grip tightened. I thought for a moment that my only option would be to phase and do as he wanted. But I had nowhere else to go. I opened my eyes and met his gaze. A hint of surprise showed in his yellow irises and I felt his grip release slightly.
“I’m staying,” I said. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”
His eyes narrowed and he replied, “There’s plenty I can do about it.”
A hiss sounded through the others surrounding us before a calm voice said, “Mr. Ruvine, do we have a problem here?”
The boy released his hold and spun around so quickly I wasn’t able to follow the movement.
“No, Professor Briggs. Everything is fine,” the boy said smoothly. “I was just welcoming our newest student to our esteemed Academy.” He gave a slight bow of his head and continued with, “I’ll leave the rest of the welcoming of our new resident werewolf to your capable hands.” The word werewolf came out as though it tasted bad. The boy threw a look over his shoulder that threatened worse things to come, then he strolled away with his friends.
His departure left me face to face with the professor who had rather convenient timing, all things considered. Though when I met his gaze, something in their dark depths said he wished he hadn’t shown up at all.
He wore long dark robes that, if at any other location, would have made him the center of conversation. Yet in the low-ceilinged lunchroom which was silent far past the ability such a number of students should have had, it felt fitting to the point that the hairs rose on my arms. The robes clung to him as though they were a part of him, black and flowing with each movement; his smallest gesture sent ripples down their depths.
I followed the robes to the clasp at his neck. It was a raven’s claw, cleverly designed to close around the cloth and hold it in place. From the clasp, I looked up into his face. He wasn’t that much taller than my five-foot eight, but it could have been two feet of difference for the way I felt looking at him.
His eyes were hooded, their depths a brown so dark they were nearly black. It was the emotion in them that made me take a step back. Anger was clear in his gaze along with scorn. I didn’t know if either was directed at me, but it felt as if he disapproved of my very soul, if I still had one. There was a scruff of black along his cheeks as though he hadn’t shaved that morning. A deep, jagged scar marked his cheek to the left corner of his lip, pulling it slightly. The effect gave him more of a snarl than a smile.
“So you’re the werewolf who has the Academy in an uproar,” the man said.
The accusation in his tone made me want to drag my toe on the ground like a small child caught stealing. I couldn’t decide if his statement required a response. Fortunately, I was saved by a familiar voice.
“Oh, good,” Headmistress Wrengold said. “You’ve met Mr. Briscoe. I came to make introductions.”
Professor Briggs lowered his voice for only the Headmistress to hear. “I am against this.”
The Headmistress nodded with a smile. “Your reticence to add a werewolf to our student body has been dually noted, Professor Briggs. I assure you his presence won’t be as disruptive as you fear.”
Professor Briggs glanced at me as if aware I could hear their conversation no matter how quietly they whispered. His eyes narrowed and he turned away without another word.
The Headmistress appeared not to be bothered by his actions and faced me with a smile. She didn’t need to raise her voice to be heard across the still-quiet cafeteria. “Students of The Remus Academy for Integral Education, please welcome our newest student, Finnley Briscoe.”
Silence followed her words, but at her stare, a few mumbled welcomes and hellos followed. She gave an approving nod and turned back to me.
“I’m sure you’ll find your stay here pleasant,” she said as though she was welcoming me to a hotel overnight instead of the fact that my entire life had been uprooted. “Mrs. Hassleton has your room assignment, and—”
“Headmistress?”
We both turned at the small voice. Alden lowered his gaze at the sudden attention.
“What is it, Mr. Grim?”
A few whispers caught my ears, but when I looked back, I couldn’t see who was talking.
“Could he stay in my room? He took the extra bed last night,” Alden said. His voice wavered slightly.
The Headmistress’ eyebrows rose as if the boy’s words were a surprise. “Did he, now?”
Alden nodded. He shot me a quick look before he said, “And it was fine, really. There aren’t any problems.”
A smile touched the Headmistress’ lips. She nodded. “I’m pleased to hear that. I’ll inform Mrs. Hassleton to make the change.” She watched me with an appraising light in her eyes as if I had exceeded some expectation. She gave another nod that made her gray hair bounce beneath her bright scarf and lifted her voice to say, “Have a good breakfast, students. I’m sure your professors are anxious for your classes to begin.”
She left to a chorus of groans.
I bent to pick up my tray and utensils from the floor.
“I’ll get you another tray,” Alden said.
I carried my dirty one to the sinks.
“I’ll take that,” a boy with whiskers said. He turned away before I could thank him.
“I just want to know one thing,” Alden told me when he met me at the door.
“What?” I couldn’t help the flat tone.
“How did you already manage to make yourself the target of Haunted High’s resident vampire coven?” he asked.
I followed his gaze to the group at the furthest table. They didn’t bother to hide the fact that they were talking about me. A boy speaking to the one whose sister I had scared turned and shot me a glare that I could feel across the lunchroom.
“Luck, I guess,” I muttered.
Alden gave a short whistle. “Keep it to yourself. Vicken’s not one to mess with. He plays dirty.”
“How so?” I asked.
He didn’t answer as he took a place at the closest table. A few students at the end scooted further away. Alden appeared not to notice. It made me wonder if it was me or him they avoided. Either way, the same berth followed us down the hall to Mrs. Hassleton’s office after we cleared our trays.
“Mrs. Hassleton?” Alden said from the doorway.
The woman was busy shuffling through a huge stack of files on her desk. The movement ruffled the clove she had sprayed heavily again everywhere. I couldn’t stop a sneeze at the thick scent.
The woman screamed and backed up so quickly she upended both her chair and a large plant. She peered at us over the top of the stack breathlessly.
“You should warn a person before you sneak up on them,” she said, her eyes wide behind her glasses.
“Then it wouldn’t be sneaking up,” I replied before I could stop myself.
Alden laughed, then covered his mouth at her straight look.
“What has brought you to my office again?” she asked in a tone that was almost accusatory.
“Finn needs his schedule,” Alden said. “He doesn’t know where to go.”
“Oh, yes,” she replied. She rummaged through another pile of papers behind the files. With her head hidden from view, she mumbled something that sounded very close to, “I know where he should go.”
“Where?” I asked.
Her head popped up behind the pile again. Red spread across her cheeks and she forced a smile. “To Professor Seedly’s first period class,” she replied. She held out a paper with my schedule printed on it. “You better hurry, or you’ll be late.”
“Yes, Mrs. Hassleton,” Alden said.
He elbowed me. I repeated, “Yes, Mrs. Hassle
ton,” before I followed him out of the office.
“I have Seedly also,” he said. “So that’ll be easy. What other classes do you have?”
I handed him the paper and he scanned over it. “You have Briggs for second.”
The thought of being in a classroom with the professor who had apparently been against my attendance in the school wasn’t a pleasant one.
“Great,” I said.
“But you’ve got Mellon for third. That’s good. She’s great at creature languages.”
“Creature languages?” I repeated. “What kind of a class is that?”
“Being a werewolf, I’ll bet you have a knack for it,” Alden replied. “Especially the dragon tongue. It’s the hardest.”
I stared at him. He continued down the hall as if he had said something perfectly normal. I shook my head and told myself that perhaps dragon tongue was another name for pig Latin, though given everything else I had seen, he could have told me Professor Mellon was a dragon herself and I might have believed him.
“Tripe for fourth. You’ll be in with me. It’s a boring class with lots of memorizing, but lunch is afterwards.” He continued with his eyes on the paper, “You’ve got Human Interactions with Manis, M.I. with Professor Rexus—”
“What’s M.I.?” I asked.
“It really stands for Mythical Identification, but we call it Monster ID.” Alden lowered his voice although most of the other students had already gone into the surrounding classrooms. “We’re not supposed to use the monster word here, but everyone does. Just don’t let a professor hear you.” He glanced at the paper again and shook his head. “You’re ending with Professor Briggs.”
“Again?” I said, unable to hide my dismay.
Alden nodded. “You have him for Black Cat Philosophies. They usually don’t put a student in with the same teacher twice, but maybe the others were full.”
I accepted the paper unhappily. “Yeah, maybe they couldn’t switch anything around since it’s the middle of the school year.”
Alden gave me what I could tell he thought was an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. We’re partway through. Once the year is over, you’ll have another schedule. Maybe we’ll get more classes together.”