A Spell for Death: Rosewilde Academy of Magical Arts

by B. C. Palmer

  I realized that I didn’t know, and left her trying to figure out if I had an answer.

  At six o’clock precisely, I was standing outside with some of the other students, avoiding the awkward questioning glances when the bus arrived. I didn’t see the guys, but maybe they’d decided it was better to let me figure it out on my own.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Since arriving at Rosewilde Academy, they’d been—apart from Serena—a part of the whole experience. Even ignoring the memory thing… and the lesson in magic, they’d been there. They’d become my friends, even Hunter in a weird “is he going to smother me in my sleep” sort of way. Isaac never ignored me in the hall if we passed each other, a witty flirt always at the ready. Lucas always tried to get me to break the rules and sit at their table for food. They’d shared parts of themselves with me… because they liked me. Even Hunter had loosened up enough to give a friendly, but silent, nod of greeting when I would get back to the dorm room.

  That’s why what they did was so painful. They’d been my friends—Serena, too, no matter what she’d said. I’d let them get close. And even though it hurt, the idea that they would be gone from my life hurt more.

  As I was thinking that, however, and students began to board the bus, Hunter spoke from behind me.

  “So, is this goodbye?”

  I turned to see the three of them, along with Serena, lined up in front of the door.

  At first I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “If you think this is what you need to do,” Isaac said, “you don’t have much time to do it. The driver is notoriously impatient.”

  I glanced back. Half the students had boarded already. “I wish I knew whether it was the right decision or not. If I stay… what if it turns out that I’m meant to do something terrible? Something I couldn’t do if I didn’t know enough?”

  “It could be,” Hunter admitted. I realized he’d trimmed up his beard. Had I missed that somehow? It looked good on him. He still looked like a lumberjack, but the sexy kind—not the serial killer hitchhiker kind. “It could also be that there is no dark destiny for you. That you write your own fate.”

  “That’s a big if,” I told him.

  Lucas shrugged. “If you’re that worried about it, you could rely on us to make sure it doesn’t come to pass. All the worst villains in history were left to their own devices.”

  “And if you were legit going dark side,” Serena added, “you know I’d slap a bitch and set you straight again.”

  There were only about a dozen students left to board. I wrung my hands. “Have you made any progress? What I told you—has it helped you figure out what happened to Nathan? If he’s alive, or what he was doing?”

  Hunter waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. It’s not your responsibility.”

  Six students left.

  “You really think if I went… dark side or whatever, you could keep me centered?” I asked.

  Lucas stepped forward and held a hand out. I took it, and he held it with both of his. “I promise you, Amelia,” he said, “that we will help you make your own destiny, whatever that’s going to be.”

  “Agreed,” Hunter said.

  “I concur,” Isaac added.

  Serena shrugged one shoulder, a lopsided, wry smile on her lips. “You don’t look so evil to me.”

  I didn’t know what magic was to me yet. It seemed like a question too big to answer in just an hour. But there were four people in front of me, and no people behind me. My godmother’s house was empty. My friends, the few I had before this, were spread over the world going to their respective prestigious universities. I would be alone, that was a sure thing. Nothing else seemed as sure as that.

  And there was something between Lucas, Isaac, Hunter, and me. I didn’t know what it was yet. If I left, I might be safe from magic or the Abyss or whatever it was—but I also would never know if there was something here, something I didn’t want to miss or lose.

  The last student boarded. Hunter nodded toward the bus. “It’s now or never.”

  I didn’t know if it was the right decision. I didn’t know if I’d have a second chance to make it. Maybe there was something terrible awaiting me here—maybe it would follow me wherever I went. Part of me thought that no matter what happened next, I would always be a magician. I couldn’t really escape that. And if I went back to my old life, but was still at risk, I’d be facing it alone. At least here, I had my friends.

  I turned to see the bus driver watching me, scowling.

  With a deep breath, I waved him on. The door closed, and with it my chance to leave now. At least for the year, I was committed.

  I turned slowly back to the group. “All right,” I said. “I’m in. It’s not really in my nature to run from things anyway.”

  “I didn’t believe for a second that it was,” Lucas said. “In that case—come on. Dinner’s about to be served and, if you really do want to know, we have made some progress.”

  “We?” I asked.

  Hunter grunted. “On the back of my hard work, he means. But we know a little more than we did.”

  “Good,” I said. “I’m glad, really. Let’s eat and then… how about you tell me all about it? If I’m going to stay, then I’m going to help. However I can.”

  Lucas slung his arm over my shoulder and Serena looped my arm through hers and we walked back into the Academy.

  Even if I had some evil-ass creature coming after me, I knew without a doubt that these people wouldn’t let me face it alone.

  Bring it, Evil, I thought as Isaac and Lucas teased Serena, because I’ll be ready to shank a bitch.

  Amelia

  Each year, the Rosewilde Academy of Magical Arts selected students from among the freshman class to be placed into specialty tracks. According to the Primer, those tracks followed the twelve core fields of magic. Necromancy, divination, alchemy, elemental magic, illusion, mental magic, ritual magic, healing, enchantment, artifice, theurgy, and abjuration. Each of these had a number of sub-paths which many magicians tended to focus on as their careers developed, sometimes to a ridiculous degree of specificity.

  “There’s this guy in India,” Serena said, four weeks after I made the decision to stay at Rosewilde for better or worse, “he specialized in Abjuration and now he’s the world’s foremost specialist in contraceptive magic. He’s best known for the condom spell—Murthy’s Spectral Sheath, which works like a charm and comes in like fifty varieties that all have different textures.”

  “I’m guessing you’ve tried all of them?” I asked as I flipped through the pamphlet that had been delivered to my room, inviting me to take part in this year’s testing.

  “Actually no,” she said. “I stopped at number twenty-six. It vibrates. After that, what’s the point? I can show you the spell; you can test it out the next time you and the boys, you know…” She stuck her finger repeatedly through her circled thumb and forefinger of the opposite hand suggestively.

  After two months, I should have been used to Serena’s forward nature, but I still blushed at least a little. “Uh, no—there is no ‘next time’. There hasn’t been a first time, thank you very much.”

  She looked like I’d told her I believed the Earth was flat. “Huh?”

  “What?” I flipped to the next page of the pamphlet. “Did you think we were sleeping together?”

  “No,” she said, “I assumed you were fucking. Why aren’t you, exactly?”

  I shook my head, chuckling nervously as I read and reread the descriptions of mental magic. So far, I hadn’t shown much natural inclination toward telepathy or telekinesis or any of the other sub-categories. Probably not for me. “I like complexity,” I said. “Maybe ritual magic?”

  “You don’t pick your path,” Serena said. “You test for it. So, this whole time you mean to tell me that your late nights with those three hotties who already cross swords once in a while, you never once jumped in the dog pile? I figured you were just being, you know… you.”
<
br />   “What is that supposed to mean exactly?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know. A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, look at me, I’m Amelia Cresswin and I brush my teeth after I suck a dick. That kind of thing.”

  “I do not… I’m not dignifying that with a response. Are you going to help me understand this or not?” I held up the pamphlet. “This feels like a big deal.”

  She snatched it from my hand and flipped through it before tossing it back on the courtyard table. It was midday, sunny, warm. Come to think of it, the weather was always pretty much perfect here. I frowned, then shrugged, realizing it was likely a magical thing. It should have been shocking how quickly I was becoming used to magic. Our table was beside one of the reversed streams, babbling politely over river rocks as it defied the laws of gravity. “Specializing is overrated anyway,” she said. “It means more classes. Trust me, I tested into illusion and now I have two extra classes each week, and I don’t get a break from the other ones. I mean you at least do hand stuff though, right?”

  It took me a moment to realize she’d switched back to my possible sex life with the guys. “You’re obsessed,” I breathed.

  “It’s not obsession, it’s vicarious experience,” she countered. “Which, by the way, I know a spell for that too so if you don’t want to do it, I’ll totally switch places and—”

  “They haven’t brought it up,” I said. “Okay? And we’ve had more important things to talk about, and I’ve been swamped with schoolwork, and… and lots of reasons. They’re like… I don’t know; they’re like big brothers. It would be weird anyway. Wouldn’t it?”

  “If by weird you mean hot as fuck with a side of multiple orgasms,” Serena said, grinning. “Seriously, my offer is on the table.”

  It was hopeless trying to keep her focused. I laid the pamphlet down and propped my head up on one hand. “I’m not switching bodies with you or whatever,” I said. But I did relent a little bit. It wasn’t like I could talk to the guys about it. That was the whole problem. I claimed they were like big brothers but really… “Sometimes, Lucas will say something that makes me think they want to. I mean, there was that one time but since then it just hasn’t officially come up. And Hunter is still kind of sore about everything that happened with Nathan. He doesn’t go on and on about it or anything, but sometimes one of them will just say Nathan’s name and Hunter shuts down. It’s like there’s the ghost of an ex in the room and everyone knows it. And for all I know, there is.”

  She whistled. “Cock blocked by the missing cock.”

  “You are vulgar,” I said, though I was smiling. She simpered at me. “But… yeah, basically. I do like them. But Isaac always shuts Lucas down, and Hunter is… Hunter. For all that he looks like a giant who could hulk out any second, he’s actually kind of shy, I think. A few times, I’ve been sort of… thinking about it, but then we start getting to work and digging through books and it feels like it’s not the time to say anything. I’m not really one for hookups against the bookshelves. Plus, what if they’re not interested?”

  Serena laughed, and waved at all of me. “Um… they are. Did you go to an all-girls school?”

  “I went to public school,” I replied. “You know that, and I know what you’re implying. Isaac and Hunter at least aren’t like that, they have more than one thing on their mind. Jesus, listen to me—magician culture is getting into my brain. Lucas is the one that’s always making comments, so if it was any of them it would be him but we’re never alone. And again, there’s so much going on—”

  “Stop,” she said. “Just stop doing that. I see you, Amelia. Your whole life has been one project after another. Make good grades, pass the tests, bust the SATs, succeed, make someone proud. College in general, and especially magician college, is about you. No one else. Not in a selfish way, just in a… self-empowerment way. Every time we’re with the guys, you turn this very attractive shade of pink and just stay that color until they’re gone.

  “When I mention them, you stutter and stumble and hem and haw. It’s obvious you like them, and I promise—they adore you because they’re just as fucking bad about it. Even fucking Hunter. Serena is a truth speaker, okay? And the truth is, I’m about to put you all in a line and slap you because being around any of you is starting to be unbearable. Now, you tell me the truth. You want those boys?”

  I shrugged. “I mean I—”

  Her gold-painted nail shot up between us. “Ah—I said truth. Don’t equivocate.”

  “That’s a fancy word,” I muttered and glared at the grass.

  “And that’s a weak attempt to change the subject,” Serena shot back with a bright smile. “I know you think I’m the shit—everyone who knows me does. There’s a reason for that. I own it. You have to start owning yourself. I’m trying to help you. So, say it out loud, queen.”

  When I opened my mouth to protest again, her eyebrows silenced me before the words came out. And… she wasn’t wrong. I fantasized. I waited. I saw the way the guys looked at me sometimes, and heard the unspoken things that filled silences when we were together. Maybe, after what happened before, they were just too worried about stepping over some boundary. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure I hadn’t actually laid that boundary down, either. Add to that the fact they all seemed to respect it and, well…

  “Okay, fine,” I muttered. “I… like all three of them.”

  “You can do better,” Serena urged. “Own it, bitch.”

  I grinned as she nudged my knee with hers. “You’re the worst influence, you know that?” But I took a breath and uttered it out loud for the first time. Quietly. “I want them. I want to… see what it’s like.”

  “Good.” She bumped my knee again. “Step one in the long journey of self-actuation.”

  “Self-actuation,” I repeated. “Are you taking a psych course or something?”

  “You’re not the only girl who blew her SATs out of the water, Miss MIT,” she said. “I was en route to Harvard. There are no dumb magicians.”

  I had never thought of Serena as ‘dumb’, but that was news to me all the same.

  “Okay, my work is officially done,” she said, and swiped the pamphlet up again. “So. The only one you really want to look out for is theurgy. It’s all about gods and goddesses and most of them are stupidly obsessed with human sexuality—or lack thereof. It’s all about abstaining for months at a time, and honestly it’s barely worth it.”

  I marveled at how easily she could switch gears. It was harder for me, though I did listen as she talked about the various pros and cons of the various paths, and talked about people she knew from each. At the same time, though, I kept thinking about Hunter, and Lucas, and Isaac. Maybe Serena had a point. Self-actuation aside—I wasn’t sure how much indulging in a fantasy would actually help me become my ideal self—I had been timid with them. And they’d handled me with kid gloves since the night they’d screwed up. Maybe it was time I spoke up for myself and broke the tension that was definitely starting to grow between us.

  After this week, though. Maybe it was an excuse, and if so I had a million more of them. But if Serena’s description was anything to go on, this week was going to be long, exhausting, and challenging beyond what I’d dealt with so far.

  I had to admit, though—she gave a hell of a motivational speech.

  Amelia

  Path week, as it was called by the students of Rosewilde Academy, was a time for celebration, as well as crushing defeat. A rotation was established with each of the deans, who tested every student individually to discover their path—or in some very rare cases, paths, for those students who were especially gifted.

  Mine began with Enchantment. I was sort of excited at the prospect of going into it. Making magical objects seemed like very practical magic with a wide range of applications. I imagined some of them—everything from astronomical compasses that always pointed toward Earth, in the hope that I might make some impact on space exploration, to, frankly, a brush that would clean my hair
to save myself time in the morning. It was complex magic that sounded challenging and rewarding, and wasn’t that far from engineering at its core. Right up my alley.

  “You are not an enchanter,” Professor Wimple told me after half an hour spent attempting to perform a painfully simple spell to magnetize a paperclip.

  I slumped in my chair. Wimple was dean of enchanting. When I’d first seen her, she’d been in a pale pink suit, her hair pulled into the kind of bun that hid wrinkles. She still had the same hair, but today’s suit was lavender. Identical in every other way but the color. She didn’t look nearly as enthusiastic about my being here as she had during my exam.

  “I could try again,” I offered. “I think I had the gesture—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said shortly. “And there are students behind you. Run along now, Miss Cresswin.”

  My encounters with Professor Gardner—dean of divination—and Professor Yakovich—dean of necromancy—were similarly failures. I could not successfully read tea leaves, playing cards, a natal chart, or bones, and if there were spirits of the dead out there somewhere they thoroughly snubbed me.

  “Is it possible I don’t have a path?” I asked Hunter as he walked me to the dining hall from our room. “I mean I know it’s just those three so far, and I wasn’t really all that excited about being a diviner, but nothing in the list really calls to me, you know? Did you know you’d be an elementalist before you were tested?”

  “Sure,” Hunter said. “I knew I was an elementalist when I was twelve. But it’s different for you; you didn’t grow up with magic. And… yeah, there are people without a path.”

  I had begun to wonder if Laura knew about my parents, about magic. She had some weird quirks, after all, and magicians were a weird bunch. But surely, if she had, she’d have been educating me in magic instead of encouraging me to apply to MIT. “That’ll be me,” I groaned. “No path. Just a mediocre, everyday, run-of-the-mill magician.”