Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel)

by Light

  Ariahna smiled back at him sheepishly.

  “I kind of already knew that part.”

  He sighed. “So what’s so important about knowing who his dad is? Is he trying to contact him?”

  “…Yes,” she lied, closing the files. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Sure, I guess. Though next time you ask me for a favor, I’m going to be ready,” he grinned. “Here, if you give me those I can put them back.”

  She handed him the files and they said their goodbyes. In his absence, a hundred unanswerable questions arose to keep her company.

  Chapter 35

  “Beast or Being,” Mr. Jones said, “is a little game we’ll be playing often in this class. I like to make my lessons entertaining as well as informative, and so as soon as you step through that door each day, I want you to be prepared to answer this question.” He pointed at the board, tapping his finger over the words: Is it a beast, or is it a being?

  “We’ll be covering both magical and mythical creatures, beings of both known and unconfirmed origins. Some of these critters are real, some only imagined, and some linger somewhere in between fact and fiction. To make it interesting, every time you answer correctly, you’ll collect a point. The person with the most points at the end of the trimester gets to pick a prize out of the prize box.” He rapped his knuckles against the small wooden object sitting on his desk. “Now, I know it doesn’t look like much, but trust me when I say, there are some worthwhile trinkets in there. Alright, why don’t you all start off by writing your answers on a piece of paper? And please do not forget to write your name,” he stressed. “If I don’t know who it belongs to, I can’t award any points.”

  Rome squinted at the word scribbled underneath the neatly written question. Nahuals. Why did that sound familiar? He scratched his temple with the tip of his pencil, trying to remember if he’d read something about them. Christian sat beside him, writing his guess carefully and folding his paper in half. Rome hadn’t been able to see what he’d written. “Funny, don’t you think?” he commented casually. “We both signed up for Beasts and Beings. Did you request this class before or after you knew?”

  “Before,” he answered. “I submitted my elective requests the same day classes started. I heard the teacher was cool.”

  Rome hesitated for a moment, pencil poised over his paper as Mr. Jones went around collecting their answers in an old baseball cap. He recalled where he’d heard the name then. It had been in History class, his very first day. He scratched his answer onto the paper, balling it up and tossing it into the hat.

  “Two points,” Christian laughed. “Hey, maybe we should go out to the court and play sometime?” he said suddenly.

  “Yeah,” Rome said. “But in the gym, not across town again.”

  Christian shrugged in agreeance.

  “Alright,” Mr. Jones said, “on to the answer to our million-dollar question. Are nahuals beasts, or are they beings? Open your books to page three hundred and thirty three and follow along as we outline what, exactly, a nahual is.”

  Rome flipped open his textbook, blinking down at the diminutive section on nahuals. It was maybe the tiniest chapter he’d seen in any of the gifted classes so far. There’d been a chapter on how to identify the base elements in your own body that had been longer than this. Somehow, he was expecting more from something mentioned on page three of their History text. A dated drawing took up a third of the first page. It depicted an animal with a shadow in the shape of a human. It was an interesting portrayal, to say the least.

  “Nahuals,” Mr. Jones said, turning to the chalkboard and writing a few key phrases in his handsome cursive, “are a curious study to be sure. They are classified as shapeshifters, but what sets them apart is that no one is quite certain which is their true form, the man or the animal. Nahuals come in a variety of forms. Some are birds, some are mammals, some are amphibians or fish, some are reptiles, and some even take on the shape of insects. The most common variety, if you can call a nahual common, would be large land mammals. They often appear as bears, wild cats and dogs, elk, deer, horses, and so forth. There have been sightings going back hundreds of years; stories and legends of men observing these unique creatures that one moment could be walking upright, and the next, disappearing down a stream or soaring up to meet the sky. They’re fanciful tales, to be sure, but what they also are, is true.

  “Nahuals, as defined by The Witches Collective, are witches who have somehow acquired the ability to transform themselves into an animal form. Interestingly enough, the word nahual can be translated quite literally as, ‘transforming witch’. Now, I’m sure that to some of you, human transmutation is no foreign subject. But if you’re acquainted with the study, you should also know that transmuting into a living, breathing creature is much more difficult to achieve than simply turning one object into another. And it’s also much more dangerous. Nahuals take it even a step further by seamlessly changing between their two forms. Not only can they sustain their transmutation for prolonged periods, if not indefinitely, but they can call on it at will and maintain their alternate forms without any noticeable negative impacts to either health or magic.

  “It is unknown whether any witch would be able to cultivate such a skill, or if it is a trait that one must be born with. It is apparent, however, that in either case, it takes much time, dedication, and practice to perfect such a skill. The Witches Collective has, in the last few decades, deemed practitioners of nahualism to be unstable, and thus hazardous to the rest of society. The art has since been banned, and is seen as quite dangerous. Because although nahuals retained their own thoughts and motivations while as animals, they also shared in the instincts and desires of their beasts, which occasionally would shine through in their actions as witches. It is believed that aside from being able to practice magic while shapeshifting, they may also have been able to tap into the senses and abilities of their animal counterparts.”

  Rome was staring down at his textbook with a grin. This class was turning out to be a real eye-opener. The amusing thing was, half of what Mr. Jones was teaching them wasn’t even in the textbook. He knew what Ariahna was now. Without a doubt, he knew. Rome scribbled her name on a piece of paper and slid it across the desk towards Christian. He spoke up suddenly, interrupting the teacher’s lecture.

  “How would you be able to tell a nahual from any other shapeshifter if you saw one? For that matter, how would you be able to tell a nahual that transformed into a wolf from a plain old werewolf?”

  “Both good questions,” Mr. Jones replied. “A nahual, one that took its shape as a wolf at least, would be slightly smaller and much weaker than a werewolf. Another way to tell the two apart would be to look up at the sky. Werewolves can generally only transform on a full moon. Tonight’s a full moon, for instance,” he commented with a smile. “As good a reason as any to stay inside.”

  Rome smirked.

  A boy in the back row raised his hand and Mr. Jones gestured for him to speak. “So a nahual could just come and attack us at any time?” he said.

  “Not quite,” Mr. Jones laughed. “As I said, the magic has been forbidden for some time, and there hasn’t been a reported case of nahualism in many, many years. Not since before you were born, I’d say. The Witches Collective takes such offenses quite seriously, and the punishment for a practicing nahual can be severe.”

  “How severe?” Christian asked.

  “Well, it would all depend on the individual, I suppose. Who they were, as well as what they were, would all play a crucial role in determining sentence. It might be something as simple as having the offender monitored for several months. Though more commonly, The Collective would sentence them to life in jail. There is not much optimism from our governing party that such a rogue practitioner has the ability to reform. In one severe case I heard about, the man in question was sentenced to death.”

  “That’s not severe, that’s extreme,” Rome said.

  “I couldn’t agree with you mo
re. Coming back to the topic of our debate, are nahuals beasts or beings, and if we stumbled upon one today, how should they be handled? The way the law is written makes it apparent that The Witches Collective views nahuals as rogue witches practicing an outlawed art. However, some would argue that it’s a natural born trait, something that cannot be surrendered at will. Others still believe nahuals are nothing more than sophisticated magical creatures, able to pass as witches within our society. Who decides? How should we truly categorize them, and where do we draw the line? Can they be captured and studied? Or are they given the same rights, and thus subject to the same rules, as any other individual? It’s been a matter of debate for years, and the lack of urgency to solve the issue has led to a near standstill on properly addressing the matter.

  “If you ask me, though,” Mr. Jones continued, “I think nahuals are still out there, even to this day – whether practicing or just existing in the way they were made to. They are still living among us in this world, and they deserve a voice.”

  A girl raised her hand and he called on her to speak.

  “Couldn’t supporting that we question The Collective get you in trouble? I can’t imagine they want you teaching us to doubt their decisions.”

  Mr. Jones smiled warmly at her. “I’m not trying to create little radicals in the making. I want to encourage you all to question the world around you, to question everything in life. Don’t doubt their decisions, but ask yourselves if you think those decisions are just. Brainstorm on how you could make them better, how you could make society better. We all have to be brave sometimes, to speak our minds – especially if our opinion is an unpopular one. But if you stay quiet, if you sacrifice what you believe in out of fear, you risk compromising who you are. And that is a much more frightening thing.”

  “Alright, let’s revisit our little game,” Mr. Jones said, picking up the baseball cap and perching on the edge of his desk. He picked up a few of the answers, dropping them playfully back into the hat before selecting one from the top. “Bridget,” he said happily. “At the beginning of class you declared that you thought nahuals to be beasts. Do you stick by that answer?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Just because someone’s a witch doesn’t mean they can’t be a monster. Anyone who practices such a dangerous art is no better than a savage.”

  “Alright, let’s see if we can’t find someone who disagrees.” Mr. Jones shuffled through the papers before specifically snagging the crinkled up ball from the bottom of the bunch. He hummed in thought as he read the answer.

  “Rome,” he said. “You wrote that you thought nahuals were both. What made you think that, and do you still maintain that belief?”

  Rome started turning his ring around on his finger distractedly. He’d never been so happy to be called out in class. Bridget was about to get an earful.

  “Yes, I do still believe that. The world isn’t black and white. People, as well as animals, are complex. They have systems of hierarchy, instincts, beliefs, fears. Just because something is a predator doesn’t make it a monster, or a savage for that matter. And it doesn’t make you its prey. I also think your opinion is based on fear,” Rome said, staring over at Bridget. “Anything can seem scary if you don’t understand it. What if your best friend turned out to be a nahual? Someone you liked, someone you trusted and respected. Would your view of them change suddenly because you found out they could turn themselves into a mountain lion, or whatever? There’s a quote, and I can’t remember for the life of me who it’s by, but it states: ‘Many a man curses the rain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance to drive away the hunger.’”

  “Saint Basil said that,” Mr. Jones smiled.

  Rome nodded. “Right. My point is that everything has a purpose, whether you can understand it or not.”

  “Very interesting perspective,” Mr. Jones said. “And some rather insightful words, I might add. I’ll admit, our subject of the day was a bit of a trick question, so I’d planned on awarding everyone a point anyways. However, I think we can all agree that Rome deserves an extra point, for that very compelling argument and his rather accurate answer. I’d have to say for now, when faced with the question of beast or being in regards to nahuals, we should all have to reply: Both.”

  Chapter 36

  “You would not believe what I just learned about in my last class,” Christian said, sitting beside Aria with a smile.

  Ariahna shifted uncomfortably, considering briefly finding a new seat. Instead she said, “I’m still mad at you,” without turning to look at him. “I think it would be best if you sat with someone else.”

  Christian tried to reach out and touch her hair and Aria shied away from him. “I know you’re still mad, but you should know, I haven’t been with anyone else since. What I’m trying to say is that I want a second chance. Or at the least, I want us to be friends,” he said, concealing a cringe at the word.

  One step at a time, he thought.

  “I got ahold of your birth certificate,” she said abruptly. “We’re not related, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Strange, I kind of forgot already,” he smiled. She slipped a folded up piece of paper out of her pocket, pressing it into his palm.

  “…In case you want to know.”

  “Welcome to Transference,” their teacher said, rushing into the class with a wide smile and a complex braided bun atop her head. “My name is Ms. Marsh, and I’ll be your instructor.” She wrote her name in large, cursive letters across the board before turning to face the class. “Alright,” she said in her lovely English accent, “can anyone tell me what transference is? No one?” she smiled. “Come now, I’m sure some of you at least read the syllabus; the course description, perhaps? No?”

  Ariahna raised her hand shyly and Ms. Marsh’s beautiful young face lit up. She had to be in her early thirties, and she was very attractive. Most of the boys had apparently noticed.

  “Yes, the girl with the pretty red hair.”

  “Ariahna,” she supplied. Ms. Marsh made a note of it in her seating chart. “Transference is the study of magical modes of travel.”

  “Right you are. Now, can anyone tell me the three most reliable and most utilized types of transference?” The class was motionless as she waited for another raised hand to appear. Aria lifted hers reluctantly after a moment. “Ariahna,” Ms. Marsh smiled, happy to know her name this time.

  “Reflective transference, geographical transference, and direct transference,” she answered.

  “Very good, that’s correct. Can you tell me their common names, for the rest of the class?”

  “Reflective transference is often referred to as ‘reflecting’, the tunnels created by geographical transference are commonly known as ‘rabbit holes’, and direct transference is described simply as ‘blinking’.”

  Ms. Marsh nodded happily. “These are the three forms of transference we will be studying and learning to use in this class.” She wrote their names upon the board, pointing to each to describe it in turn. “In simplest terms, reflective transference is the art of traveling through mirrors; geographical transference is the art of traveling geologically by connecting one location to another via magical tunneling; and direct transference is the art of traveling by merely blinking and rematerializing yourself somewhere. Some often feel a sensation as though being tossed or flung across some great distance. Direct transference is perhaps the most unpredictable, however, as if your concentration is not great enough, you could quite literally end up anywhere.”

  “So it’s either through the looking glass or down the rabbit hole?” Christian grinned. “Which would you suggest, Alice?”

  Ariahna frowned at him slightly. Was he flirting?

  The teacher continued on with her lecture, and class ended entirely too soon for Christian’s liking. He felt like he could sit there and stare at Aria all day long without a worry in the world.

  “Aria,” he said, grabbing her wrist before she could st
and to leave. “Did you maybe want to study together, in my room?” Christian turned sideways in his chair to face her, leaning in close. “I heard you’re really good at Transmutation, and I wouldn’t mind a tutor. Actually, the teacher recommended you by name. Plus, that would make you the first girl ever to step foot in my room,” he whispered. “That’s sort of a big deal for me. Or maybe we could look through that journal together?”

  “Sorry, I have Conjuration in a few minutes,” she said.

  “Well what about after that?”

  “I think it would be better if we didn’t. From what I understand, you’re going to have a rough night tonight.”

  “All the more reason to hang out with me,” he argued. “For all I know, Rome might kill me. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” The truth behind those words was no laughing matter, but that hadn’t stopped him from cracking a smile. “How guilty would you feel if you said no and I wasn’t here tomorrow?”

  “Not as guilty as Rome, I suppose,” she said teasingly.

  “…I suppose you’re right. But—you’d still feel guilty.”

  She set her books back on the desk, and against her better judgment, she reached out and touched his arm. “Christian, nothing’s going to happen to you. You know that, right? You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

  She was going to make sure of that.

  Christian stared down at her fingers against his skin, the look on his face somber. “I just want to spend some time with you,” he said softly. The genuine touch of her guilt was like a living thing. It was harder to bare today, more intense than it had been previously. He hoped that was temporary.

  “Maybe we can study together after class,” she said. His face took on an expression so hopeful it hurt. “In the library though, not your room.”

  “Do you think the library’s still a mess?” he wondered.