MWF 8:00-9:30 AM: Physical Education: South Lawn, G. Clementine
TTH 8:00-9:30 AM: The World of Herbs: Ainsley Hall Room 103, K. Lakeshore
M-F 10:00-11:30 AM: Introduction to Spellcasting: Celeste Hall Room 207, H. Magnolis
MW 1:00-2:30 PM: Healing Basics: Celeste Hall Room 310, T. Vernon
M-F 3:00-4:00 PM: Mastering Illusion: Spruce Hall Room 201, D. Hawke
But for now, all I needed to know was the way to Oakmont for dinner.
When I walked through the cafeteria doors, the savory aromas hit my nose and my stomach let out a rumble. It had been a long time since I’d had a real meal. For the last year, I’d survived mostly on sandwiches and frozen dinners. No time for fancy food when your grandma was sick and you were doing most of the chores around the house—including cooking dinner.
I was relieved to see the bustle of other students grabbing trays of food and basically going about their business. Maybe I could do the same. Eat in the corner, smuggle something out for Nine and be on my way. But of course, this was not my luck.
Before I could take three steps toward the line, from out of seemingly nowhere—had she used magic or something?—the redheaded girl appeared in front of me. Several girls I recognized as part of her clique stood several feet behind her, arms crossed over their chests and scowls in place.
My stomach tightened and my knees locked, but I knew I needed to get Nine a snack. If I was honest with myself, my stomach was past ready for a meal, too.
“What are you,” I growled, “the school’s bouncer?”
Red Hair didn’t laugh, and she didn’t take her eyes off me. “Are you a spy or something?”
I scoffed. “A spy? What are you talking about? I didn’t even know this place existed before today.”
Her brow popped to form a perfect arch. “So you could be one of them, and you don’t even know it yet.” Red Hair raised her palm and held it flat. A small orange flame lit in the center.
“Rosalee Loriss,” Professor Magnolis’s voice droned from the side. “No magic outside class for first years.”
The fire instantly dissipated and Rosalee narrowed her green eyes into slits at me. “I apologize, Professor Magnolis.” The girl never looked at the professor but kept her attention trained on me until Magnolis was out of sight. “I have my eye on you. I will not allow the Academy to be at risk.”
Before I could defend myself, Rosalee spun on her heel and the swarm of girls followed.
No one else confronted me on the way to the line, but I could feel their glares on my back. Apparently, this Morelli thing was real and these students were concerned about it. But how could something like the color of one’s hair control someone’s fate? I was just me, Josy Barrows. Sure, I’d snuck a cat into my dorm room, but that was about the extent of trouble I’d ever caused in my lifetime. I had no idea if I was even capable of doing magic, let alone destroying whatever The Side of Magic was.
I took a slow, deliberate breath, grabbed a tray, napkin and utensils, and made my way through the buffet-style line. Giant bowls of unfamiliar but amazing-looking food were laid out for the students to take as they liked. No restrictions. My eyes first landed on a pile of roasted chicken pieces, and I loaded two drumsticks on my plate to give to Nine later. Next to them, I piled on white rice and a spicy-smelling yellow sauce stocked with vegetables and meat. I thought it might be curry, but Grandma hated curry, so I hadn’t had it more than once or twice. Next to the sauce was a basket of flatbread, and I made sure to grab two.
At the end of the food line, I realized that my next trial was at hand. Finding a place to eat.
Most of the long wooden benches were taken up by groups of talking and laughing students who already seemed to know each other quite well. Maybe most of them had grown up together and simply went on to the Academy as the next step. If this were true, I’d have a huge disadvantage beside the fact that they’d already judged me based on my hair color.
Two tables away I spotted a stocky girl with curly blonde hair seated next to another with a slight frame and long black hair—likely the two living across the hall from my room. The ones who’d given me the not-so-warm welcome. Not an option.
The tray grew heavy in my hands and I homed in on a table in the back. Only one student sat there. He was wearing the reversed baseball hat I’d wished I had to cover my hair. His back was leaned up against the wall and his face buried in a book. Perfect.
I squared myself, gathered any moxie I might have buried deep down and walked across the room. Without a word, I slid my tray onto the table, snagged a glass from a stack in the middle, then filled it using the nearby water pitcher.
“Mind if I sit here?” I lowered myself onto the bench. I didn’t know why I’d even asked. Stupid.
“You can do whatever you want.” The guy didn’t glance up from his book. A tiny wave of chocolate brown hair stuck out from the bottom of his cap.
“Thanks.” I took a bite of curry, and the flavors burst in my mouth. Spicy but not too—a wave of pain cut off the thought. My eyes widened as the curry grew hotter in my mouth and I started to cough. I scrabbled for my water and downed nearly the entire glass, only to peer up and see the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes staring at me. Heat raked up my neck—from both the curry and embarrassment.
The guy’s lips formed a flat line. “If I’d known you were coming over here to choke to death, I’d have recommended you sit elsewhere. I’ve never been very good at the Heimlich.”
“I . . . I’m not choking.” My tongue continued flaming. “This curry is just really hot.” I waved at my face, but it was doing no good and I snatched the water pitcher again.
The guy shook his head. “That’s never going to get rid of the burn.” He pushed a full glass of milk toward me. “You’ll need this.”
I stared wide-eyed at the milk for a second and then back at him. “I”—cough—“can’t take your milk.”
“It’s free . . . well, already paid for. And I can get more.”
Without another protest, I nabbed the milk and guzzled the cold liquid. When I was done, I plunked the glass onto the table and ran my hands over my face.
“You’re welcome, Josy.”
My mouth fell open a bit. Does news travel so fast here that everyone knows everything about me already? “How do you know my name?”
He sighed. “Because, despite my protests, I’ll be tutoring you. Starting tomorrow.”
Chapter 7
An army of ghoulish soldiers surrounded me. Each of them had a head of white hair cut in various styles, some short, others long and loose. Their faces were cruel and hardened. In unison they released a piercing war cry, or maybe it was the howl of a pack who’d surrounded their prey.
The Morelli.
One of them, a man with short, slicked white hair and dressed all in black, stepped forward. His features were angular and he was likely handsome once, but something had changed him. Whether power, greed or something else entirely, I didn’t know, but my stomach burned and somehow told me he had not always been this way—evil.
I cowered in the horde’s center and locked my eyes on the man as he approached. He raised his chin slightly and peered down at me over his nose.
“Josy Barrows.” His voice was gravelly, and he narrowed his eyelids to slits.
The group of soldiers—monsters—hollered and growled until he raised his hand to quiet them.
My pulse raced in my ears and I pulled my arms around my legs, trying to make myself so small that maybe I’d disappear. But that didn’t happen. I’d never had any magic and still didn’t. I was going to die, and that was that.
“We’ve been searching for you. It’s time for you to reclaim your place.”
I flew up from my sweat-drenched pillow and gasped. A crack in the drapes let a sliver of moonlight into the room. Panting, I spotted Merrygold in her bed to my right. I had no idea whether ghosts slept, so either she was pretending to snore quietly or ghosts did, in fact, sleep.
Nine, curled up in a little ball at the end of my bed, had passed out too.
“It was just a dream,” I muttered, trying my best to console myself. I took in a deep, settling breath and sank back onto my pillow. All this stupid talk about the Morelli had gotten to me. Not to mention the curry I’d had earlier.
Beside my bed, propped against the lamp, was the photo of my parents. I didn’t have a frame for it yet and made a mental note that I needed to get one. My parents stared at me from the image, smiling and happy. Their arms were wrapped around each other in an embrace. I studied Mom’s long, straight, chestnut hair, and if I squinted enough could make out the line of lighter hair at the roots. Nine hadn’t lied.
The little baby bump at Mom’s midsection was barely visible, but I knew it was there. I reached out and grazed it with my finger.
They looked happy. Nine gingerly slunk up the side of the bed and settled down next to my pillow.
“Looked?” I whispered, not wanting to wake Merrygold.
Nine slowly blinked. Your parents were happy about you. But life on the run is difficult with a cat in tow and a baby on the way.
My heart clenched. I didn’t want to ask but had to know. “They were in hiding? Why?”
The cat laid his head down on my pillow. Can’t this wait until morning?
I glanced at the clock on Merrygold’s desk. 4:02 a.m. “It is morning.”
Later in the morning. Nine closed his eyes.
“Nine!” I demanded, still keeping my voice down.
Honestly, I don’t remember much. Most of the memories are cloudy. It was a long time ago.
Merrygold let out a snort and rolled over in her bed.
Without further answers the cat was already asleep, or at least pretending to sleep, and I knew from experience that forcing a cat do anything it didn’t want to was nearly impossible.
I released a disgusted sigh, threw off the bedcovers, and swung my feet to the floor, leaving Nine to himself. Last night I’d found a set of three white towels in the armoire, so I got out of bed to retrieve one.
Taking the towel and a clean set of clothes, I tiptoed down the hall to shower and ready myself for the day—whatever it would bring.
I cracked open the door to the bathroom, expecting to find it empty, but instead found a girl with curly blonde hair and a sturdy build standing at one of the ten sinks, applying thick eyeliner over her left eye. She already wore her uniform with the shirt untucked and a pair of chunky purple combat-style boots. Her attention flitted to me for a brief second before she returned it to painting her eye.
I spotted the shower stalls in the back and made my way toward them.
“Why are you here?” the girl said as I passed her.
I closed my eyes and wished for some sort of magic that would make me disappear. It didn’t work. “For a shower?”
She scoffed. “That’s not what I meant. Why are you here at the Academy? They haven’t allowed Morelli for at least twenty years. Why suddenly would admissions let one slip in?” The girl finished up the masterpiece on her eyelids, turned to me, and leaned her body against the sink’s lip.
Standing in my nightshirt, I clutched at my towel, clothes and travel soap, suddenly hoping that if I left any of them outside the shower this girl wasn’t going to steal them.
“I didn’t know about any of this until yesterday—not the Academy, not about magic and definitely not about anyone called the Morelli!” Anger stirred in my chest. “Why do you assume I’m a terrible person just because of my hair? You haven’t even taken the time to get to know me. Who knows? I could be the best person in the world! Maybe I don’t even have any magical abilities.”
I regretted my words immediately. What I wanted to do was fly under the radar. But I was beginning to think that was going to be an impossible task. This school didn’t seem very large, so short of shaving my head or getting hold of some hair dye, I didn’t think blending in was an option.
The girl rested her hands on the edge of the sink and shifted her weight. She squinted at me for what seemed like an eternity. In the meantime, my legs nearly turned to gelatin while I stood on the cold, white, subway-tiled floor.
“Maybe you’re right,” she finally admitted. “I don’t know you.” She rounded to the mirror again and retrieved a tube of lip gloss from her makeup bag. She opened it and slid the clear liquid over her full lips. The girl examined herself for a moment and hovered her finger over her mouth. The gloss sparkled and tinted purple. She nodded in approval of her appearance and turned back to me, since I was stupidly still standing in the middle of the bathroom watching her.
The girl took two steps to me and extended her hand. “I’m Holly . . . Holly Leighton.”
Eyeing her hand, I shifted my belongings to one arm, then slowly stretched my hand to hers. She clasped it heartily. The corners of her mouth may have turned up into the slightest smile, but that part could have been my imagination.
“Josy,” I managed.
“Yeah, I know. My roommate Emiko Fujii and I are first years too. We live across the hall from you.”
“I noticed.” My stomach twisted in suspicion. I wanted to believe that someone here might not look at me as a threat or even an outsider.
“I have always believed in not making judgments about people too quickly.” Holly shrugged. “Maybe I made a mistake this time.”
My legs finally stopped quivering, and I released from her grasp.
She tipped her head and gave me a once-over. “My mother had one bit of advice when she dropped me off at Academy.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Keep your friends close . . .”
Holly didn’t need to finish the phrase.
Chapter 8
Welcome to Introduction to Spellcasting
The words were handwritten calligraphy-style on an old-fashioned black chalkboard at the head of the classroom.
Holly and Emiko were seated in the middle of the semicircle of chairs, and six other students I hadn’t met took up all but two remaining seats. Several of them glanced at me from the corners of their eyes but quickly returned to the textbooks opened in front of them on their desks.
I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn’t the only person in this class. Rosalee’s comments when I arrived made me think that I might be.
As I stepped further into the room, I fought the urge to touch my low ponytail. Instead, I gripped harder on my textbook that I hadn’t even looked inside yet. I knew that was silly. In the past I’d have jumped at such an amazing opportunity, but I kind of kept hoping this whole thing was a dream and I’d just wake up—no magic, no Morelli, no talking cat, no ghost roommate, and no other students who mistrusted me because of something silly like the color of my hair.
I slid into the desk closest to the door and glanced around the room. On the left was a wall lined with shelving, stacked with hundreds of clear, labeled jars. Some were filled with dried plants, others with liquid and things I didn’t even want to guess at what they were, but I suspected that some of them used to breathe.
“Well, I think she’s pretty,” Emiko whispered to Holly and flickered her eyes my way.
Was she talking about me? I sank into my desk. There was no way I felt pretty. I felt like an ogre to be feared. Lowering my head, I cracked open my book and turned to a random page in the center.
#103 Romantic Love Spell read the title at the top of the page. Use with caution.
Holly whispered something back to Emiko that I couldn’t hear because tapping footsteps came through the door. Professor Magnolis, sharply dressed in a black fitted jacket and skirt paired with black pumps, entered the classroom. She took no more than two steps into the room when the stack of books in her hands tipped and tumbled to the ground. One worn and ancient tome slid right next to my desk.
The professor swore under her breath, and I popped from my seat before anyone else reacted. I swiped up the book next to me and started to reach for the rest. Before
I got there, the other books rose from the ground on their own and hovered there for a second. Startled, I looked back to Professor Magnolis, who had her hand in the air, directing the wayward books to her arms. When they had all arrived, she smiled and bowed her head slightly.
“Nothing like a little accident to show off your skills.” Professor Magnolis chuckled, and the rest of the students applauded.
I timidly held out the final wayward book to the professor. She took it.
“Thank you, Josy.”
Professor Magnolis closed the door behind her, walked to the teacher’s desk and set down her books. “Welcome to Introduction to Spellcasting. I know some of you may be disappointed in this placement. But, not to worry. Mastery of magic can take some time, and it is always important for you to have the basics down.” The corners of her lips turned into a smile. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I began with this very class when I arrived at the Academy.”
A guy with dark skin and short black hair two seats down from me raised his brows in surprise, and a few mutters came from the second row.
The door opened again, and in walked a tall, olive-skinned guy. Aspen Rivers. Sans hat, his dark, wavy hair was combed neatly to the side. A few errant curls stuck up over his ears and a gray messenger bag was slung over his shoulder.
Without my permission, my heart fluttered at the sight of him. Silently I scolded it. This was not a time or place to be thinking boys are cute. Aspen didn’t even really want to be around me. He told me so last night in the cafeteria.
Professor Magnolis turned and gave Aspen a curt nod. “My teaching assistant, Aspen Rivers. During times of practice, he will be available to assist any of you who are struggling with an assignment.”
Aspen smiled briefly at her, and my stupid heart did a near flip again. “Stop it, Josy,” I muttered by mistake.
“Did you have a question, Josy?” Professor Magnolis asked.
My eyes widened, and I stared at the desk in front of me. “No, ma’am.” Heat radiated up my neck. Everything in me wished I had worn my hair down to hide the blush.
Spellcaster Academy Box Set Page 4