by G. Bailey
Crossing my arms, I stare at the warden in confusion. “You are seriously not going to report this? They were torturing the poor thing.”
“No,” he replies and my jaw hangs open for a moment.
“Why not?” I ask after snapping my mouth shut.
“Does it matter?” he counters with a raised brow. “What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?” I shoot back at him.
“Do you make everything difficult?” He pats the creature on the head and it nestles into his palm, its tiny body trembling. “Fine. My name is Zander Sabhain, Shadow Warden, at your service, my lady.” He bows his head and it makes my lips twitch.
“Fuck off. My name’s Corvina Charles and considering you aren’t telling anyone about this, I’m taking his dagger.” I point at it on the ground. The slugs are all gathered together nearby, shaking and making weird noises.
Goddess, I wish I could stand on them.
“He did promise you could have it if you beat him,” Zander smirks, watching me pick it up and inspect it.
“How long have you been here?” I question in annoyance. “Why didn’t you stop them?”
“I got here just after you and I was interested in what you’d do. Do you know how sexy you look when you’re using magic?”
That throws me off.
“Do you know it’s illegal for wardens to sleep with shadowborns?” I warn him, because it’s true. Wardens have chosen wives and they aren’t allowed to sleep around with anyone, especially someone considered tarnished like me. This guy really shouldn’t be flirting with me.
“Who said anything about sex,” he teases and winks. Pitch slams into my soul, his anger burning through me so hard I almost stumble.
I can’t believe I forgot Pitch was there for a second.
“I need to head back,” I say, feeling more than out of sorts with Pitch messing around with my emotions.
And now this dude.
Fuck.
“Agreed. See you around, my lady,” he bows and grins at me again with that cheeky, sexy wink of his.
“Don’t call me that!” I shout back as I slide the dagger into the back of my skirt. When I turn around, Zander and the frog-thing have already vanished.
Note to self: This is why I shouldn’t wander alone in the forest.
As suspected, Corvina Charles cannot stay away from trouble for long. Her mind and soul sniffs the darkness out, craves it even when it leads her to nothing but destruction. I walk from the treeline as she casts a powerful spell, the dark magic hovering around her in an enchanting cloud, her eyes widening from the pleasure of using it.
The dark magic likes her. It feeds her willingly, only asking for her pain and anger in return.
I’m captivated as she uses a high-level hexing spell on the five wardens, turning them into useless slugs that slither across the ground. My fingers dig into the bark of the tree I stand behind as none other than Zander Sabhain approaches and talks to Corvina. Teases her. Tests her.
They are both monsters, born out of spite and hate for a cause they don’t yet understand.
It’s no wonder they stare at each other with such pointless longing. After a few moments, both Zander and Corvina go their separate ways. With a smile that is rare on my lips, I walk out into the clearing and lift my foot. I take great pleasure as I stamp on the slugs, hearing their wails as they die.
Soon it will be more than silly, replaceable wardens that die. Soon it will be this entire forest.
I can’t quite shake the Shadow Warden from my mind as I walk back to the river.
“Good one,” Wren says, soaring through the trees above me. “You never fail to impress or amuse us.”
“We haven’t had lunch yet either,” Rook adds, flying after her and Crowe. “Would it be okay if we ate some of the bullies you turned into slugs? They were looking mighty delicious.”
I’m tempted to say yes, but I shake my head. “The Shadow Warden will no doubt be back for them.”
Why does that thought make my heart flutter?
My friends squawk, their way of laughing, before disappearing into the shadows. Pitch remains uncharacteristically quiet inside me.
When I rejoin the group of students by the river again, they’re each holding jars of water that gleam the same colour as their crystal.
“Put your crystal inside and say lampas academeia,” Sage explains, handing me a jar filled with normal water. “Whenever we get lost in the forest, we just say that and the crystal will light the way back to the academy. How cool is that?”
“Pretty cool,” I admit, pulling my crystal pendant off my neck and dousing it in the water. “Lampas academeia.”
The crystal glows, as does the water, and in the distance not too far away, the academy shines like a beacon of light.
“Right,” I say, slinging my crystal around my neck. “Where to now?”
“Magical Defence: Level One,” Sage answers, and we join the others walking back to the school now gleaming through the trees.
After a workout and a half down the tower steps that is supposed to be a secret passageway, Sage and I finally find the classroom we were instructed to go to. I push the door open and step into the room only to trip over something and just about face-plant the ground. Luckily, Sage is quick to grab my arm and steadies me up. Scowling, I dust a hand down my clothes and follow the foot that was sticking out.
“Watch out there, newbie,” Jonah scoffs, leaning against the wall with a cocky smirk slapped onto his face.
Sage clamps a hand on my arm, stopping me from doing anything stupid.
Damn, she’s stronger than she looks.
She’s also wise. We really can’t risk another trip to the headmaster’s office so soon.
“You’re just as new as me,” I spit back at him, “but if you trip me again, I will—”
“You’ll what, exactly, little Vina?” he teases, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. His silver hair is tied back today and it just makes me notice how perfectly clear and flawless his skin is, how bright his eyes are and the way they pour right into you. They’re all things that make you want to like him, but then he spoils it by opening his mouth and spewing out a bunch of hate.
“Corvina, leave it,” Sage hisses in my ear.
I glance over at her and see that the whole class has turned in their seats to stare at us. Thankfully, the teacher isn’t here to see this fiasco, but I’m sure Jonah planned it out that way. What is this guy’s deal?
“Listen to your friend. Leave it, and this school while you’re at it, and we’ll have no problem,” he suggests calmly, like the serpent in the Garden of Eden convincing Eve to eat the apple. But Jonah is far worse than a snake.
He has the seductive looks to lure you into doing anything.
Well, almost anything. I don’t plan on doing shit when it comes to this handsome jerk. Maybe that’s why he hates me. I’m not fawning over him or doing what he says, and I bet he isn’t used to that.
“You’re out of your mind,” I eventually say, shaking my head. “I’m not playing this game with you. Why don’t you grow the fuck up?”
“No, but I will make sure crazy is a nice word for you if you dare to win anything in this class. I need to be the best, so stay out of my way,” he growls, barging into my shoulder as he storms off to a random unoccupied desk. He’s now the second person to do that to me in one day. My cheeks heat up as Sage glares at the back of Jonah all the way until he sits at the front on one of the only two desks.
I shake my head, answering him the only way I can as Sage and I walk through the rows of single-seated desks. There are two behind Jonah and I know I should sit in the one next to Sage. I know I shouldn’t be so petty. But I can’t help myself
Sage chuckles as I walk forward and take the desk right
at the front, beside the lovely Jonah. I feel his eyes trying to make my head explode as I rest back, crossing my legs and folding my arms over my chest.
I asked him to grow up and not play any games? Well, he’s definitely been playing them, and now so am I.
The only difference is that I’m quite good at winning, and I won’t be intimidated by some drop-dead gorgeous bully. Someone needs to put him in his place and I’m happy to volunteer myself.
The door slams behind us and I turn to look back, seeing the hot teacher, Mr Michaels, from the first day. He has a blood-red shirt this time, tucked into black trousers, and his sleeves are rolled up in a distinctively controlled way. His messy hair is the only part of him that seems unplanned, like he just forgot about his hair when he rolled his sexy ass out of bed this morning. Each step he takes into the room commands everyone’s attention. He rests against the desk at the front of the room and looks at us all, his eyes flickering across my face for a moment before he moves on to the next student.
“Your Magical Defence teacher is the headmaster, but unfortunately something has come up this morning. I guess it’s a shit way of making the first introduction to you all,” the man says and everyone laughs. “For those who don’t already know, I’m Mr Micheals and I’m the school therapist. Seeing as you all have appointments with me this week, I’m starting them earlier than planned. Once you’ve had your thirty-minute introduction appointment, I will decide on the course plan for you and how often you will need to see me.”
“What if we don’t need to see you at all?” Jonah asks dryly, not bothering to address Mr Micheals as sir or put his hand up.
I’m impressed when Micheals turns his gaze on Jonah and they have a strange little standoff. It’s amusing to watch and I hope Jonah shatters under the scrutiny.
“We both know you need a therapist,” Mr Michaels replies, calling him out on the bullshit question. It’s bullshit because every single one of us suffered trauma to become what we are today. Being a Shadowborn isn’t simple or easy for any of us. I guess that’s why we constantly need an around-the-clock counselor. “Right, without further ado, the first name on my list is Corvina Charles. Will you come with me?”
The teacher looks right at me, without needing to know I’m the name he called out.
I nod tentatively and stand from my chair, following the sexy bugger to the worst place that I know.
A therapist’s room.
And here I thought I’d escaped them back at the foster home.
“Why don’t you sit down, Corvina?” Mr Micheals asks the moment I step into the small, cosy living room. A pleasant warmth wraps around me, and I look around, spotting the crackling fireplace mounted into the main feature wall. Nestled around the fireplace is a velvet sofa for the patient and a leather chair facing it for the therapist. Four mahogany bookcases decorate the walls, every book as neat and tidy as the rest of the room. A cobalt rug sits perfectly aligned against the dark wooden floorboards, with a small round coffee table on top that holds a box of tissues and an intricate vase with fresh white roses. There’s not a speck of dirt anywhere. Even the velvet drapes and blinds are dust-free. It’s simple but also…welcoming. I’ve always hated that about therapists. They make the room seem normal and not the slightest bit distracting in order to make you feel safe, but it always did the opposite to me. I like a bit of chaos and darkness.
“And you may call me Gage when we are inside here,” he adds, striding over to the fireplace.
“Why not outside this room?” I question, surprised to see him plopping down on the sofa instead of the chair.
When I don’t move from the door, he pats the seat beside him and gives a warm, reassuring smile that clenches my stomach. But his lack of formality and laid back nature helps to settle my unease. Cautiously, I walk over and claim the seat next to him on the sofa, waiting for his answer.
“The school has standards and the headmaster is always on my ass about using first names,” Gage tells me with an even wider smile that is contagious. “Now, I’ve gone over your record, and I understand that you have a more difficult memory of becoming a shadowborn than most.”
“I have a higher body count, if that’s what you mean,” I sarcastically snap.
“It was not, Corvina. I simply was suggesting the loss of your parents,” Gage explains, lowering his voice slightly. “Would you like to tell me about them?”
“No,” I answer sharply and look down at my hands, feeling Gage’s eyes on me.
After a moment, he tries again. “Every shadowborn has a price they paid for the creation of who they are. I’ve always seen the price as a demon that lives inside our bodies and takes an enormous toll on our everyday lives. It makes us uncomfortable. It causes such pain when we look into the past that we choose not to, and on some days, it controls us through fear.
“Without the right mechanisms to counteract this in the beginning, the demons quickly transform into shadow magic, a form of dark magic that is linked so closely to our soul that we cannot tell the two apart. This is why I’m here, Corvina, to help you control your own demon and find closure for the pain it has made you suffer. It’s my job to help you find joy in who you are now instead of who you used to be. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m here to help.”
Despite my best efforts, I find myself sucked in by his words, my eyes tracing his face for any signs of deception but finding nothing. He really believes what he’s saying—-that he can help me when all others have failed.
He looks back at me, our eyes locking. For a moment all I can hear is my erratic heartbeat and the fire crackling away.
“Will you let me guide your demon from your soul, Corvina?’”
“Any magics I’ve met like you,” I say, surprised by my honesty, “have been nothing but cruel. Some speak as you do, all alluring and promising so I can trust them, but they never keep the illusion up long. They always crack eventually and can’t be bothered helping people like me anymore.”
“The keepers at the foster home. Is this who you speak of?” Gage asks softly.
“Yes, and I will decide in time if I can trust you. Trust has to be earnt,” I warn him. “And considering we have nothing more to speak about, I want to leave.”
He watches me stand from the sofa and wisely doesn’t try to stop me.
“You’re right, Corvina. Trust does have to be earnt. I look forward to earning yours.”
I hesitate before walking over to the door. Just as I wrap my hand around the handle, his voice catches me again, and I look back at him.
“But for the record, you have my trust already. You had it the second you stepped in and saved your best friend in the welcoming ceremony. Only good people save others. Remember that.”
Oddly, his words make me smile as I step out of his office.
There is a first for everything, it seems.
The next morning, Sage arrives outside our room with two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag.
“This is why I love you,” I say, happily taking them from her and peeking inside the bag. She even remembered to add ketchup. “Bacon sarnie. The best!”
“I’ll never not love the way you say sandwich, Buzzie.”
A light blush creeps into my face. I take a small bite of the roll and close my room door. It’s funny how I struggle to remember much about my childhood but I know my English mother used to call sandwiches sarnies. I can’t recall how she said it—her voice is just a distant memory now—but I do know she used that word because it stuck with me. When I first arrived at the foster home, the other kids used to laugh at me when I said it.
“So, what class do we have now?” I ask over a mouthful of food.
“Illusions of Magic. I heard Professor Stonehart is a molten gargoyle all the way from Luna. How neat is that?”
I swallow my food down, nodding as we step out into the common area. “Pretty neat. But please do not tell me the classroom is at the other end of the castle. It’s too early to walk down all t
hose stairs.”
Sage pats me on the head, slightly messing my French braid. “Hate to break it to ya, but—”
“It’s at the very bottom of the Lower Half. Couldn’t get any farther, really.” Ronan interjects, appearing at my side, also stuffing his face with food. He throws a grape into the air and catches it with his lips. He sideglances me and flashes a wolfish grin. “But you’ll be glad to know we can use the West Tower this time, and it has an elevator.”
“Praise the fucking goddesses,” I exclaim, raising my hands in mock prayer before cramming the last of my breakfast into my mouth. “Ummm, which is west again?”
I always hate when people use words like north and west when giving directions because my stupid ass has no idea what they mean.
Outside of the common area, Sage points down the corridor. “I’m guessing it’s where everyone else is headed.”
We follow the rush of students buzzing through the hallway. Thankfully, not many are aware of the secret passageway yet, and when we reach the elevator tucked away in a dark corner of the western tower, only half a dozen students are waiting there.
The morning light fades the deeper we drop into the earth. At the bottom of the tower, the doors ping open and we step out into the other side of the courtyard Greyhorn had walked me through upon my arrival. Pixies fly between the gigantic mushrooms and the flowers, whose petals seem to breathe softly as we walk by them.
We leave the academy doors and cross the courtyard to the outbuildings. I like this part of the Lower Half, because even though we’re hundreds of feet below ground, there’s still light pouring in through the cavern. It makes everything that little bit less claustrophobic.
Outside the middle building, I spot Izora sitting by the firepit, enchanting the flames to dance for her. I smile at her as we walk into what I’m assuming is the right classroom. The dark wooden desks are laid out in pairs, each of them facing the front where the teacher’s imposing desk stands before a mountain of bookshelves. A narrow staircase spirals up to an archway in the upper right corner of the room.