Life's a Witch

by Val St. Crowe

  “Um.” I took off my backpack and set it on the floor. “Tatum…”

  “Just go to Logan’s like you always do,” she said. “That would make things easier for me.”

  I came over to the couch and sat down next to her. “I don’t want it like this. You’re my best friend.”

  She switched off the TV. “Okay, let’s have this out. You’re not my best friend.”

  “What?” I was hurt. I didn’t think I’d ever been so hurt. Maybe because I hadn’t really had a best friend before Tatum. When I was growing up, I was weird, and no one liked me. Also, I’d been traumatized by fighting off skitters and other creatures from the other world, which showed up every time I used my primal magic. It hadn’t been much of an adolescence.

  “Best friends don’t do the kinds of things that you did to me,” she said.

  “Tatum, I saved you.”

  “Stop,” she said. “Just stop making excuses.”

  I couldn’t believe this.

  “You know, if I had anywhere else to go, I would leave,” she said. “Because you know I won’t do death magic.”

  “You mean talisman magic.”

  “Call it what you want. In order to do the magic they teach at this school, something has to die, and I’m not cool with that.”

  “Okay, you are getting way out of control with all of this,” I said. “I am your best friend, and you can’t throw me away because I didn’t want you to die. And you ended things with Reid? What was that? I think you broke him. I’ve never seen him cry before.”

  She turned to me. “He cried?” she said in a tiny voice.

  “Well… he teared up,” I said.

  Her face twitched. Then she shrugged. “Good. Serves him right.”

  “Come on, Tatum. Snap out of this. I get you’re mad, but you are taking this way too far.”

  She pointed the remote at the TV and turned it back on. “Okay, I’m done. If you’re going to try to gaslight me—”

  “How am I gaslighting you?”

  “You’re trying to convince me that I’m crazy for having my own convictions,” she said. “And I’m not crazy, and I don’t appreciate it, and if you were really my friend, you would be on my side.”

  “If I were really your friend, I would have let you die, is that it?”

  She shrugged.

  I got up off the couch. “You know what? Maybe you should be thanking Reid and me, you ever think about that?”

  She turned up the TV and didn’t answer.

  “We did it because we love you.”

  Her face was stony.

  Aw, hell, this wasn’t getting us anywhere. I was going to leave. But I wasn’t going to Logan’s.

  *

  I knocked on the door to Willoughby’s office. I didn’t know if he would be there or not. He hadn’t yet posted office hours, so it might mean that he currently had a class or that he’d gone home for the day.

  But there was a call from inside. “Yes?”

  “Professor?” I called back.

  “Come in.”

  I opened the door. Willoughby’s office was the size of a storage closet. A desk barely fit inside it, let alone a chair for him and one for a visiting student. But then, a lot of the rooms at Ravenridge were small. Behind him, there was a window that looked out over the parking lot behind the school.

  “Petra,” he said.

  I gave him a half-wave. “Hi there.”

  “Is there something I can do for you?” he asked.

  “Uh, yeah,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “You can tell me how to turn human again.”

  He pressed his lips together.

  “I know, I know,” I said. “You said that it was dangerous and I don’t want to terrorize people or whatever. But it occurs to me that I should get all the information that I can before I completely dismiss the idea.”

  “There are a lot of steps,” he said. “And I’m not lying about your possibly being hurt.”

  “No, I believe you,” I said. “But just tell me the steps, and then we can talk about it a little bit, and about some of the risks, and if it’s something that I think I might want to do, I’ll get going on that.”

  “What is all this about?” he said. “Why is it so important?”

  “I want to be normal,” I said.

  He eyed me. “Really? You’re a student at a mage school, and you want to be normal?”

  “Well, not completely normal, I guess, but not a freak either.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “Listen, just tell me—”

  “I’d really rather not get into it,” he said. “If anything happened to you, I would hold myself personally responsible.”

  “Well, if I absolve you of that responsibility, then—”

  Strands of black scribbles suddenly burst through the window behind Willoughby’s head, shattering the glass.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Down,” I screamed, conjuring a big double-sided ax. Bullets were no good against the scribbly things. They just moved their scribbly strands out of the way and avoided the bullets.

  Of course, the truth was that axes were really no good against them either. The only way to kill one was with the hearthstone, and I didn’t carry it around in my handbag or anything. But I could slow one down with an ax.

  I swung the weapon over my head in a big circle, slicing into the scribbles, which fell to the floor like discarded strings.

  Willoughby cowered behind his desk, looking at me with wide eyes.

  “Stay down,” I said, climbing up on top of the desk to get at the scribbly thing. It was pouring into the room, its scribbles moving too fast for the eye to really register them. They were here, they were there, they were anywhere. Fighting one of these things wasn’t easy. I slashed with the ax again, severing more strands.

  The scribbly thing squealed.

  Good. I was getting to it. Maybe I could scare it off, make it retreat. “You know who I am?” I said. “I’m Petra Brightshade. I killed your emperor. You don’t want to mess with me, or with anyone close to me.”

  The scribbly thing suddenly wrapped strands around my arms and legs.

  I swore. I tried to move the ax but I couldn’t. I was held tightly in place.

  To make matters worse, my conjuring had called the skitters, and they were crawling down from the ceiling, chirping as they came for me.

  I looked up at them, struggling against my bonds.

  The strands tightened around my arms, biting into my skin.

  I cried out and dropped the ax.

  The skitters were coming closer.

  Willoughby got to his feet. He clutched at a talisman that hung around his neck and muttered something under his breath.

  The strands that were around my arm were moving. They were crawling up over my skin, and the sensation was like being scampered over by spiders. I let out a grunt, trying even harder to free myself.

  Think, Petra, think, I told myself. There’s got to be a way to get out of this.

  Suddenly the scribbles were on my face, burrowing into my eyes.

  I shrieked.

  An awful voice in my head, something foreign and strange, like a screech of nails on slate. You are in danger, Petra Brightshade.

  What? What the hell was that? Was this thing trying to taunt me or something? Maybe I shouldn’t have said that thing about being the killer of their leader or whatever. Maybe that was a bad idea. Maybe I really pissed it off.

  Willoughby’s voice grew louder. He was muttering words in another language. I didn’t understand what he was saying.

  I couldn’t see anything. The scribbly thing had its strands in my eyes, in my mouth. I was invaded.

  But I felt a harsh wind—only it wasn’t coming from the window, but from the direction of Willoughby—

  The scribbly thing in my head again. You must listen to what—

  And the scribbly thing was gone.

  I collapsed into Willoughby’s desk, panting. “What the
hell?”

  “I sent it away,” said Willoughby, who was red-faced and sweaty. “It’s not an easy bit of magic.”

  The skitters dropped down from the ceiling between us.

  “Damn it,” I said. I conjured a gun with venom bullets. I dispatched the skitters. As I shot, I said, “Where’d you send it?”

  And that had been what I was forgetting. I could have vanished the thing. I wouldn’t have been able to send it away forever, but I could have sent it a few miles away, given us a chance to regroup. How could I have forgotten about vanishing? It had been too long since I’d fought one of those things. The treaty was making me go soft.

  “Just… away,” said Willoughby, still struggling to catch his breath.

  I shot the last skitter. It shriveled up, leaving nothing behind but a dark smear.

  “It shouldn’t… bother us anymore.” He panted. He took off his glasses and began to clean them with the edge of his shirt.

  I scrambled off his desk and got myself together. I vanished the gun and the ax that I’d conjured. “If they’re trying to kill you, they’ll just come back.”

  Willoughby looked around at the shambles of his office.

  “Norwood’s not going to be pleased,” I said. “He thought he was done with those things attacking the school. He’s going to lose it.”

  Willoughby looked a bit green. “Wonderful. That is exactly what I need.”

  “Yeah, Norwood’s an ass no matter what, though.”

  “I haven’t even been at work a week,” said Willoughby. “Everything’s gone wrong.”

  “Tell you what?” I said. “I’ll cover for you with Norwood if you agree to help me turn back human.”

  Willoughby sighed. “Oh, all right, fine.”

  “But they are going to come back,” I said. “We need to figure out what we can do about that.”

  “I actually may have an idea about that.” Norwood put his glasses back on. “You cover for me with Norwood, and I’ll tell you about that and about how to become human.”

  “Deal,” I said, offering him my hand.

  We shook.

  *

  Dean Norwood made a tent with his fingers and rested it under his nose. “Sometimes, I can’t even remember why it is that I allow the four of you to remain under this roof.”

  “Because we saved your asses,” said Reid. “You should be grateful.”

  Norwood made a face. “Yes, yes. Grateful for property damage and injured students and living in constant fear.”

  “Listen,” said Tatum, “you asked us here in the first place.”

  “I most certainly did not,” said Norwood. “That honor goes to my predecessor, Henrik Weathersbane, and what happened to him?”

  None of us said anything.

  “Oh, that’s right,” said Norwood, “he was killed. And the dean after him? Killed. Honestly, I’m quite certain the the four of you will be the death of me rather literally.”

  Norwood was too much of a dick to die.

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Like I said, it was a misunderstanding, and I’ve cleared it up. It won’t happen again.”

  “What kind of misunderstanding could you possibly have with one of those things?” said Norwood.

  “Well, I did kill their leader,” I said. “They’re pissed about that.”

  “I thought there was a treaty.” Norwood curled his lip. “Please tell me the school isn’t going to be under attack again, because I promise you, Ms. Brightshade, no matter what promises were made to you, my patience has a limit. And if you continue to bring destruction down on my head, I will send you away. I will send all of you away.”

  “Now, now, Dean Norwood,” spoke up Estelle in a soft voice. She’d been quiet thus far, but usually she was good as soothing the dean. “I’m sure you don’t mean that.”

  He turned on her. “Oh, Ms. Darkmore, don’t mistake me. I mean it. I don’t care how much money your grandfather sends to this place. I can’t put a price tag on my life.”

  “Dean Norwood, we’ve protected this school,” said Estelle. “And we are aiding primal children across the country. You throw us out, you throw away the future.”

  And all the tuition dollars of those primal kids, who were going to grow up and then come straight to Ravenridge for their education. Norwood cared about that. The Ravenridge Board cared about that. The Order of Ash cared about that. They were a magical order who ran the school.

  Norwood sneered at Estelle. “You would bring that up. You come off sweet, Ms. Darkmore, but you’re a master manipulator. I doubt even blackmail is beneath you.”

  Estelle stiffened.

  “All right, all right,” I said. “As much as we enjoy being insulted and threatened by you, Norwood, we’ve explained the situation to you, and it’s under control, so is there anything else?”

  He heaved an enormous sigh. “I suppose not. Yes, why don’t all of you kindly get out of my office?”

  *

  We didn’t all fit into Willoughby’s office, so we were meeting in his apartment, which he wasn’t too pleased about. Now, he was fraternizing with a total of four students, and he’d made deals with us as well. I could tell that Willoughby was used to being proper, and this was anything but.

  However, he was going to have to get used to it if he was going to be involved with us. We were the opposite of proper.

  He’d moved some of the boxes out of the way, and we were all sprawled in his living room. Willoughby and Logan sat on the couch, along with Tatum. Estelle, Reid, and I perched on kitchen chairs that we’d scooted over.

  “All right,” Willoughby was saying, “now, I can do a spell that will keep the, er, scribble things from being able to enter the school.”

  “I don’t see how,” said Tatum. “Last year, that was all we wanted, a spell like that, and no one could do it, not even the master mages who run the school.”

  “Well, it would involve using the power of one of you primals,” said Willoughby. “Last year, no one was up on the kinds of things that we could do with the mixture of dragon magic and magic from the other world.”

  “And you are?” I said.

  Willoughby spread his hands. “It’s why they hired me at the school. Like it or not, Ravenridge is the hub of this new hybrid magic, mostly because of you.”

  “Well, you know who doesn’t like it?” said Reid. “Norwood.”

  “Norwood hates everything,” I said.

  “Mostly us,” said Tatum.

  We all gave each other a grim smile, and for a moment, I forgot that we were all mad at each other and not speaking or whatever. It seemed like the old days.

  “So, okay,” said Logan, “how would the spell work?”

  “It’ll tether the power of one of the primals to repel the scribbly things,” said Willoughby. “I’ll need one of you to volunteer.”

  “Probably should be me,” I said. “If it’s going to siphon some of my power, I’m the strongest. I don’t get tapped out as easily.”

  “It shouldn’t have any affect on your ability to do magic or your strength,” said Willoughby. “You won’t notice it all. The only thing is that you won’t be able to leave the city.”

  I shrugged. “Not a problem. No reason to go anywhere. I volunteer.”

  “I’m afraid it can’t be you, Petra,” said Willoughby. “Your human side is dead, and the spell won’t work without both human and primal essences.”

  “Oh,” I said. That sucked. Just one more thing that being inhuman had taken from me.

  Tatum spoke up. “I don’t even understand why we’re doing this. They broke the treaty. Let’s turn them in.”

  “Professor Willoughby doesn’t want to do that,” said Estelle.

  “And we need his help to turn me back to human,” I said. “So, we’ll do what makes him happy.”

  “But why do you need to be human?” said Tatum. “I don’t get it. You and Logan are in a rush to make babies or something?”

  “Not a rush,�
� I said. “Just… you know, someday…” I sighed.

  Logan shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “You know, actually, Petra, we haven’t talked about—”

  “I want it,” I said. “I want to be human again. If Willoughby can make that happen, then I’m doing it.”

  Everyone was quiet for a minute.

  Reid broke the silence. “I’ll do it. I’ll be the tether. What do I have going on?”

  Tatum glanced at him and rolled her eyes. “Actually, I’m kind of wondering why I’m even here?”

  “Fine,” I said. “Leave, then.”

  She got up. “I think I will.”

  *

  The ritual to tie Reid’s essence to the school and protect it had to be performed at midnight, and we all had to stand in a circle in the hallway of the top floor of Ravenridge, just outside the library, and chant a bunch of weird words that didn’t sound like any language I’d heard before. It wasn’t Latin. I was pretty okay with Latin these days.

  Reid had to be shirtless and Willoughby smeared this weird black goo all over his body and then stuck raven feathers to it. They stood in the middle of the circle. Reid had to drink a potion that Willoughby had created, and it apparently tasted pretty awful from the way that Reid coughed and sputtered afterward.

  But then Willoughby put his hand on Reid’s forehead and began to whisper something frantically.

  There was a crack of bright light, and green forks of lightning flew out of all our chests and into Reid’s.

  Reid threw back his head and screamed.

  And then it was over.

  Reid slumped in the middle of the circle, gasping.

  Estelle ran to her brother. “You okay? Are you hurt?” She turned accusing eyes on Willoughby. “What did you do to him?”

  “It’s fine,” said Willoughby. “He’s fine. Don’t worry.”

  Reid was already getting to his feet. “Yeah, it’s no big deal. It kind of stung for a minute, but I’m fine now.”

  Estelle was peering into his eyes, looking worried.

  “Hey,” said Reid, trying a smile at her. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay,” she said quietly. “But I think we should get you back home.”