by S. W. Clarke
I made straight for the ensuite bathroom and finished undressing in there. As soon as the door had closed behind me, a knock sounded. Eva’s voice filtered through. “Clem, what happened?”
I turned on the water, which came out pre-heated from a high spout. “I fought the boggan.”
Her gasp was audible even through the door. “No—the boggan did that?”
I didn’t answer; I stripped down the rest of the way and stood straight under the stream of water, closing my eyes as it washed away the grime and pain and—I hoped—the acuteness of the memories.
“What house are you?” Eva asked.
“Yeah, what house are we?” Loki’s muffled voice chimed in.
My eyes flicked open, staring unfocused at the mirror on the far wall. It had slowly begun to fog up, obscuring my face.
I wanted it obscured.
I didn’t want to see myself clearly.
“Clem?” Eva said.
I slowly exhaled as the steam encompassed the mirror; only the imprecise watercolors of my body were visible in the mirror. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll tell you.”
“Okay,” she said. I could hear the reluctance, but I could also hear the ensuing silence like a palpable thing.
I needed the quiet.
Ever since I’d lost my family, I’d become introverted in ways I never had as a little girl. Where before I hadn’t minded having people around, I found I needed long stretches of alone time.
After losing Mom and Tamzin, the world had become a different place—an unsafe place. Nothing felt sacred anymore, least of all the people around me. They were an ever-shifting cast, some of them meaner than others.
And I’d needed refuge. I’d needed to fortify myself.
Loki could hang around, but no one else.
As if he’d heard my last thought, the door creaked open. When it closed, I spotted a small black form in my periphery, half-veiled by the curtain around the shower.
I turned toward the spout, pressing my hair back from my face. “Knock much?”
He sat with his tail curled around his body. “Now that you know I can talk I need to knock?”
“Can’t blame me for asking. You’re basically a human in a cat’s body.”
“That’s an insult to cat intelligence. Maybe I’m just a cat in a cat’s body.”
I snorted. “What do you want, Loki?”
“You know what I want.”
“Dinner isn’t for a few hours.”
He sighed, his tail flicking. “I want to know what happened.”
“I’ll tell you and Eva when I’m done here.”
“There is no ‘me and Eva.’ There’s only you and me.”
I stopped with my hands halfway through my hair, my relationship with Loki pressing forward in my brain like a brilliant, tangible thing.
He was right, of course.
Every secret I’d ever had, I’d shared it with that cat. Well, most of them I’d shared before I knew he could talk, but now I knew he’d always been listening as he lay across my bed, those green eyes intent on me.
Always intent. Always listening.
“You know about the elements,” I said. “Air, earth, fire, water.”
“Yes, yes.”
I tried to keep my voice even. “Do you know about the history of witches at the academy?”
Loki’s tail stopped moving. His green eyes stared at me through the curtain. “You didn’t reach for air.”
So he knew about the whole sordid history. And he knew what it meant to reach for fire.
I stood under the water, and I realized for the first time it was scalding. And I was enjoying it.
“I reached for the flame,” I said in a small voice, staring down at my right hand, angling it until I could see my palm. I could almost see the flames there again, dancing on my fingers.
At first, Loki didn’t answer. Then, in a low voice, “You know, I’m not surprised.”
“Me either.” I couldn’t bear to look at him as I asked my next question. “Do you still want to be my familiar?”
Loki burst into laughter. “What kind of question is that, dummy?”
I spun on him, annoyance flaring. “It was what they call a vulnerable question. And now I’ll never ask you another.”
Loki’s tail flicked again. “I told you I’m not surprised, Clem.”
“And what does that mean?”
“I knew if you ever came to the academy, you might end up in House Spark. I accepted that long ago.”
“Why didn’t you come with me to fight the boggan?” I paused. “It was awful.”
A sigh emanated beneath the sound of the water. “Because I knew you didn’t want me there. I knew you wanted to discover this truth about yourself on your own.”
Was that true? Had I not wanted him there?
A voice inside me answered, It’s true.
I stared at him through the curtain, the water still falling around me. “And now that I’ve been sorted into Spark?” I left the question at the fore of my mind unspoken: Do you think I’m evil?
“I’m your familiar,” he said in an even tone. He stood. “I’ll always be your familiar, no matter what.”
Without another word, he stood and padded from the bathroom, leaving me alone. He knew I needed it.
I had planned to turn off the water. I had planned to get out and towel off.
But instead, my back touched the wall. I slowly slid down to a seat, the steaming water still rushing over me. I thought of many things as my hand went to my chest and the pendant, some of them good and some of them bad.
I allowed my thoughts to rush over me like the water. The world wasn’t a safe place, but I couldn’t reject it, either.
I sensed if I went on as I had been, I would be corrupted by the flame. And I couldn’t let that happen. Not ever.
Chapter Twenty-One
I skipped my classes the next day. Eva made excuses for me to my professors, explaining my exhaustion after fighting the boggan.
Meanwhile, I slept. I slept and I slept. I hadn’t slept so much since I’d first gone into foster care, but my body gave me no choice.
I was bone-tired.
When I woke up late the next afternoon, it was to the sound of Eva humming a soft song in another language.
I opened my eyes and found Loki curled up in the crook of my legs. Across the room, Eva was bent over in her chair, writing at her desk.
I slowly sat up. “Hey.”
Eva turned in her seat, one arm going over the chair’s back. She smiled at me. “I was just about to wake you.”
I rubbed my eyes. “Why?”
“You need to get ready for your induction.”
“My induction?” I said with a jolt. Then, “I’m not doing it.”
She tilted her head. I’d explained to her that I had reached for the flame, and though she had been vaguely disappointed I wasn’t going to join her in House Whisper, she had quickly gotten over it.
In fact, her excitement had transferred itself to deciding what I should wear at the dinner.
She hadn’t been at all bothered by me being a fire witch.
But I was bothered.
I gazed down at Loki, who had rolled onto his back, all four paws aloft. “Everyone already thinks I’m evil. I’m not getting it stamped on my forehead in front of the entire academy.”
“That’s not true,” Eva said. “I don’t think you’re evil. Aiden doesn’t. Loki doesn’t.”
I lifted lidded eyes to her. “Loki’s my cat.”
She raised a finger. “He’s your familiar. And he’s known you the longest of all of us.”
I shook my head. “I’ll be in House Spark no matter what, won’t I? I don’t need to stand up in front of everyone.”
Eva turned her chair fully around. “It’s tradition, Clementine. And more importantly, it shows you want to be a part of this academy. If anything, it would be better for your image to come to the dinner.”
“My ima
ge, huh?” I stroked a hand down Loki’s belly; he only let me do that when he was sleeping. “What if I said I don’t care about my image?”
“Then I’d know you were lying.”
I flashed her a hard stare. “Is that so?”
She didn’t even blink. “That’s so.”
“And how would you know?”
“Aside from it being ingrained in human DNA to want to be part of the tribe?” She paused. “Because you work too hard at not caring for someone who doesn’t really care.”
Her words got me right in the solar plexus. That was when I knew Eva was far more perceptive than I’d given her credit for.
All the flightiness and softness were part of her, but this keen-eyed depth was part of her, too. Aiden had been right: she could read people well.
“I think,” Eva said softly, “you’re afraid.”
I didn’t speak. My eyes drifted to Loki.
“But Clementine,” she said, leaning forward with both elbows on her knees, “you know who you are. Who cares if many witches turned evil? We know some haven’t. Your life isn’t determined for you, and you can start proving that by going to the dining hall tonight.”
“Eva,” I said, pronouncing her name in a clipped way. “You don’t understand.”
She stood up. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell me what I do and don’t understand.”
I lifted my face, knowing the effect of what I was about to say even as I said it. “You just want to dress me, anyway.”
It was unduly harsh and a bit of a sucker punch. I was very, very good at getting people off my case.
She scoffed, wings flitting. “It’s true that I wanted to help you find the right outfit for tonight, but that was only because I like you.” She crossed to her bed, lifted a perfectly pressed dress and brought it over to my chair. She laid it over the back. “Do as you like. I had this dress tangibly manipulated for you, and you can wear it or not. You could stay here and sleep if you like. The point is,” she said, crossing to the door, “it’s all in your hands. Everything is in your hands, Clementine.”
And then she was gone, the door closing behind her with such a light hand I almost wished she’d slammed it. Then I could have been annoyed at her for something.
Loki’s eyes opened, two seams of green in his black face. He gazed at me.
“Don’t say anything,” I said down to him.
His eyes opened a bit more. “You should go to the dinner.”
I groaned. “I told you not to say anything. What good’s a familiar he doesn’t listen to his witch?”
“And,” he said, “you should wear the dress.”
I dropped back onto my pillow with a louder groan.
He was right.
Of course, he was right.
Just like Eva had been right.
I stared around me at the empty, still room. My eyes fell on the dress over the chair; it was forest green and, as I reached out to finger it, made of a very soft cotton.
“I’m an idiot,” I said.
“Yes,” Loki said. “But at least you’re an idiot who’s going to get dressed, go to the dining hall, and accept her induction into House Spark.”
Even as he said it, I knew I had to go.
For so many reasons, I had to go.
A slow half-smile appeared as I gazed down at him. “You’re coming too, you know.”
He rolled onto his side. “Why do you think I’ve spent all afternoon licking myself?”
I climbed out of bed and crossed toward the bathroom. “Because you’re a cat.”
“Yes,” he said, his voice fading as I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, “but I’m also a familiar of House Spark.”
I glanced out the doorway. “And you’re proud of that fact?”
He stared at me, sitting with leonine grace. “You’re testing the limits of my sincerity, Clementine. I can only be so encouraging in a single day.”
I smirked. “You’re the worst.”
“No, you.”
When I stepped out onto the landing, dusk had come. And with it, snow.
I lifted my eyes, and a snowflake landed on my cheek. They floated down through the soft lamplight around the grounds, flakes so small and airy they didn’t even seem real.
I touched my face and felt only wetness there.
Loki brushed against my leg as he came out with me. “Ugh, snow.”
I looked out over the grounds. All around, students were headed toward the dining hall for dinner. It should have inspired absolute dread, but the scene was too peaceful, too pristine.
“I like it,” I said.
“Did you just say you liked something?” Loki said as we started down the steps toward the forest floor.
“No.” When I reached the ground, it was frozen solid, a fine loam of flakes coating the grass. “I would never say such a thing.”
We proceeded across the clearing, falling in with the other students. I pulled my cloak tighter, feeling out of place in the green dress. It fit me like a glove, falling at just the right height on my calves.
But dresses were for special occasions, and I didn’t have special occasions in my life.
When we came into the dining hall, it was already packed. I hadn’t ever seen the full student body in one place, and all the noise hit me in a wave of sound. Cutlery clinked against plates, goblets touching tabletops. And above it all the voices of the students and teachers engrossed in dozens of different conversations.
Loki, of course, had already disappeared—presumably beelining toward the kitchen.
Which left me standing in a moment of dizziness.
“Clementine,” Eva said, appearing in front of me with her hands clasped at her sternum. “You’re here.”
I gestured down the length of my body. “I’m here.”
She took in my dress, the way I’d pinned back my hair. “You look perfect. Absolutely perfect.” And then, all animosity forgotten, she led me to an empty seat she’d reserved just for me at one of the tables. “Aiden, doesn’t she look stunning?”
Aiden, face dug deep into the rim of a goblet, lifted his eyes. When he lowered the drink, he nodded in that awkward way guys do when they haven’t got any idea what to say about a girl’s appearance. “Very…appropriate.”
I snorted as I sat. “I’m guessing you heard the news from Eva.”
Eva made a face. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
“You’re going to be with me in House Spark,” Aiden said, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite parse. “A fire witch.”
He didn’t seem displeased. But he also didn’t seem overjoyed.
I glanced around, trying to figure out who else was in Spark. “Do the houses sit together?”
“We will,” he said. “When the ceremony begins.”
Eva handed me a roll, and I took an overlarge bite of it. “Ceremony? I thought it was an induction.”
“Induction, ceremony—two names for the same thing,” Aiden said.
“No. no no,” I said through my comforting hunk of bread. “An induction implies the possibility of it being a quiet, simple thing. A ceremony doesn’t.”
I knew I was splitting hairs. I was being silly. Some folks did that when they were nervous, and I was a master of nervous hair-splitting.
All the professors were seated together at a far table. At the head of the table was Headmistress Umbra, and I recognized a few others—Fernwhirl, Milonakis, Quartermistress Farrow from the stables.
I had never seen them in the dining hall. And I had never seen them in black robes, colored sashes hung over their shoulders.
It looked like graduation regalia.
“Shit,” I said. “It is a ceremony.”
Eva followed my gaze. “Those colors represent each house they were members of as students at the academy.”
I stared. “Let me guess—red for Spark.”
“Blue for Crest,” Eva continued for me, her finger dancing from place to place,
“green for Gaia, and gray for Whisper.”
I fixed on the headmistress. “Umbra was in Whisper.”
In that moment, Umbra’s eyes flicked to me. We stared at one another for a second before she gave me a slow nod.
I saw the same look in her eyes as I’d seen when I fought the boggan—sadness, trepidation.
I wondered if she’d ever look at me any other way.
“Of course,” Eva said. “She’s an air mage.”
I tore off another section of bread. “I’m sure she’d prefer I ended up in Whisper, too.”
“Spark will welcome you, Clementine.” Aiden rolled the remainder of his drink around in his goblet. “Later, you’ll be taught how to harness your magic. Each element has its own ways, its own power. Fire is considered the most powerful element by some.”
“And the most unpredictable,” Eva added.
I was about to ask what Eva meant by “unpredictable” when a low, sonorous bell chimed through the dining hall. It was impossible to ignore, and every head turned in its direction.
The bell tolled again as conversation died away. Then a third time, and a fourth.
Up at the front of the dining hall, Umbra stood with her hand on a thin rope leading up to a large bell I hadn’t noticed before. When all other noise had left the hall, her hand went still.
“The bell chimes four times,” she said, her voice deep and carrying over the hall. “It chimes for an induction to our academy. A late one, to be sure, but life does not adhere to precise timelines. She has endured the boggan’s sorting at the time of the winter solstice, and she has reached for her element.”
I sensed eyes on me—my second-least favorite thing. I tried to keep my face as expressionless as possible, my gaze fixed on Umbra.
“Her name,” Umbra said, “is Clementine Cole.”
Somewhere, I could have sworn I heard a vague hiss. My eyes were drawn over the crowd of students, but I had no idea where it had come from.
“She will walk with me to the amphitheater in the traditional form,” Umbra said. “Clementine, please join me. Houses, please follow.”
And so I stood. I walked up the center aisle to Umbra, trying to put the hissing out of mind.
When I arrived before Umbra, she stepped forward and extended her arm for me to slip mine through. “Walk alongside me, please.”