Hawthorn Academy: Year One

by D. R. Perry

  "Kek," the bird said as it perched. I saw why she wore that contraption.

  "Those are some serious claws, Professor." I grinned. "What kind of bird is that?"

  "You don't already know, Miss Morgenstern?"

  "Oh, honestly, Lucy." Professor DeBeer rolled her eyes. "She wouldn't be here if she knew everything."

  "It's Luciano, Professor, as we've previously discussed. Remember?" Professor Luciano's hands clenched into fists, but somehow, he managed to look tense and exhausted at the same time.

  "Right, right." She waved her hand. "Forgot. Terribly sorry, Professor Luciano. Anyway, this fine fellow is named Hammer and he's an Impundulu, more commonly known as a lightning bird."

  "Oh, wow!" Hal popped out of his seat, stars in his eyes. "Professor, could I watch the next time you feed him?"

  "Hmm, not so sure on that one." Professor DeBeer shook her head. "Feeding time's pretty gory. I'll have to run that by the headmaster. At any rate, I wanted to discuss lesson plans with this old sod right here, so if you don't mind, we'll just be dragging each other away for now."

  She stepped to one side, gesturing away from us with one arm and wagging her eyebrows at Lucciano. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he audibly counted to five. I wasn’t sure whether to empathize with him or her at that point.

  The four of us watched them go, Nin peeking out from her hiding place in the left side of Hal's jacket.

  "The professors are the most confusing part of this place, in my opinion." I shook my head. "At least so far."

  "Faith Fairbanks isn't?" Grace raised an eyebrow.

  "Nah, just another mean girl." I grinned. "Every school has some of those. What's one more?"

  Behind me came the chittering clatter of plastic on tile. Hal's eyes went wide and Dylan turned. I followed suit just in time to recognize Faith as she hurried along the food line and out through the entrance, leaving her dropped tray and all the food that was on it strewn across the floor. Her little Sha scurried after her, yapping.

  I looked around, scanning the cafeteria for her mean-girl wannabe hangers-on. They sat with Noah and Elanor, plus one more young woman. This fifth individual bore a striking resemblance to Faith. In fact, I'd have thought it was her if you'd asked me a minute earlier. But I realized the other girl was older and pretty enough to be on a magazine cover. Her hair was a brighter shade of red, too.

  It had to be her older sister.

  Faith's fair-weather friends were clearly engrossed in whatever the three upperclassmen were saying. It included a heaping pile of pointing and laughing at the mess the unfortunate girl had left behind.

  It was only then that I realized Faith had arrived alone, and although she’d surely overheard us talking about her, we weren't her main focus.

  Noah's table was, of course.

  "This is all wrong." I sighed, feeling my willpower crumble.

  I should have felt relief that I wasn’t getting picked on by the bullies my brother kept company with, and I did for a moment. But that emotion didn't stick, because I got angry at him for siding with the mean crew. That’s not how we were raised.

  "Yeah, I think so." Dylan's voice was strained. "But what can we do?"

  "I'm going after her." Hal stepped around Grace, looking down at the floor to avoid slipping in the pasta. "Damage control is kind of my responsibility. See you guys later."

  "Huh." Grace glanced down at Lune, who thumped the floor three times with his left foot. After that, she stared at the clock on the wall. "We need to go back and get our homeroom assignments, or we'll be late."

  "Would you mind getting mine, Grace?"

  "Why?" Her eyes widened.

  "I want to ask my brother something." My hands clenched. He'd gotten on my last nerve because we’d promised each other years ago that we'd never be bullies. A low growl began near my ear. Ember was riled up too, apparently.

  "If that's what you gotta do." She took a step backward. "Come on, Lune, let's go. Talk to you later."

  Grace headed for the cafeteria's exit faster than I'd seen her move so far. My nostrils flared as I set my jaw and my resolve. I turned toward Noah's table, about to march over there and give him hell. Dylan's hand on my arm stopped me.

  "Aliyah, wait."

  "I've got sibling business, Dylan. Don't you have a homeroom assignment to fetch?"

  "No." He stepped in front of me, blocking Noah from my view. "Work-study folks get everything early. Anyway, let me come with you."

  "Why? He's being a total tool. I have to get on his case about it."

  "Because you're angry. That makes sense, but calling him out won't fix this."

  "Maybe it will." I snorted. "Anyway, who died and made you the boss of me?"

  "Izzy's alive and well, but last week she asked me to help you anyway." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Take a look over there and tell me he's the real problem—the ringleader—and then I'll let you handle it alone, okay?"

  "Yeah, fine. Sure. Whatever." I stepped sideways as Dylan turned. We both had an unobstructed view of the in-crowd's table.

  Noah sat back, mouth closed, with his lips pressed into a thin line. Elanor leaned one elbow on the table, her casual posture clearly well-rehearsed. The twins stared, eyes saucer-sized as they hung on every word Faith's sister said.

  "So, I told the filthy bloodsucker I'd call the police if he didn't stop chatting up my sister and get lost." Her laugh reminded me of a hyena's.

  "What did Faith say to that, Charity?" the twin on the left asked.

  "Nothing. Everybody knows you don't make friends with diseased corpses." She wrinkled her nose, pantomiming a dry heave. "Even when you're an undeath magus like she is."

  So, the oldest Fairbanks sister was an anti-vampire bigot, which went against practically all the values our family had taught us. And my brother was going along with it.

  "Plenty of vampires follow the rules." Noah leaned back in his chair. "My grandmother even knows some who are doctors, helping the sick and dying."

  "You know that's just one of the ways they manipulate people into giving them blood, right?" Charity narrowed her eyes. "Because that's all they want—to control the world and spread their disgusting disease."

  I knew for sure that wasn't true. I'd met many vampires, living in a touristy place like Salem. They suffered every night of their unlives because the rules people like Charity put in place barely allowed them to survive.

  "Ass. You. Me." My brother mumbled our old joke about assumptions under his breath like a mantra he'd practiced countless times.

  "What was that, Morgenstern?"

  "Nothing." Noah closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He only did that when seriously stressed out. I watched all traces of protest die in his eyes once he opened them again.

  "Good." Charity's grin was downright wolfish. "You don't want to be on the wrong end of this food chain, so don't make me put you there like I did with Faith and her fleabag Sha."

  "What's wrong with her Sha?" One of the twins scratched her head.

  "They're drawn to undeath magic." Charity wrinkled her nose. "Ugh."

  And just like that, my anger changed its focus.

  "You know what, Dylan?" I turned my head, looking at him.

  "Hmm?"

  "I don't want to kill my brother anymore." I set my jaw. "You're right, he's not the problem."

  "Good."

  "I'm going to save him from this bitch instead."

  "Aliyah—"

  Dylan was too slow. Seeing Noah cowed like that gave me wings. In a flash, I was beside the popular crowd's table, looming over them, gunning for bear. Ember extended her wings, hissing at them all.

  "Mean people suck." I put my palms flat against the cherry-stained wood, narrowing my eyes.

  "And losers get no action." Charity's smirk was light and airy like angel food poison. She rested a raw-silk-clad elbow on the wood. "Your point?"

  Elanor's titter was too high-pitched, even for her, and her
firebird ducked its head behind hers. Noah blinked, pushing back from the table's edge. Lotan reared up on his shoulder, his warning hiss louder than I'd ever heard it.

  The twins guffawed, hands slapping the table. The pigeon familiars on their shoulders flapped, cooing along.

  I held out my hand, palm up and cupped, calling flames into it.

  Then I inhaled, Ember breathing in tandem. For a moment, it felt like we shared a body, that I had wings, and she was bipedal. The air changed around us, shimmering like summer heat rising off blacktop.

  The solar lights in the chandelier above our heads flickered. I almost thought I felt them pulling toward my magic somehow, but that should have been impossible.

  "Bailey, put it out," one twin shrieked, pulling her rapidly blistering hand off the table she'd been slapping. The other stood up so fast her chair toppled behind her.

  "Shit! Hailey, I can't!"

  Ember and I exhaled.

  The table and everything on it burst into flame.

  Including Charity's shirtsleeves.

  From above, the chandelier blasted out an ear-shattering wail, counterpointed with a phrase on repeat.

  DANGER: FIRE, LOCATION: CAFETERIA.

  "Deluge!" The voice came from my left.

  Rain poured down from overhead. The table was still on fire, trays and food charred husks. But Charity's sleeve was out, her flesh unscathed.

  A spotted tomcat stood in her lap, back arched and tail straight up. He hissed, sand flying between him and the mean girl. Her familiar's quick thinking and their combined earth magic had saved them from being crispy critters.

  I could have killed someone. All because of my temper.

  It was raining in the cafeteria. And it was all my fault. I felt horror now instead of rage, but I couldn't stop myself. I still breathed fire, and even though I wanted them to, the flames wouldn't die.

  "Pull 'em apart!" Professor DeBeer pointed at my dragonet.

  "Yes." It was Professor Luciano behind me. Ember squealed, and I felt her grip on my shoulder loosen before it let go entirely.

  "Vacuum!" That was Dylan, behind me. The air spell felt different from his summer cooling conjures. There was an absence along with it, something besides lack of oxygen smothering my magic. Ice cold. But how?

  The fire died, and the rain stopped. Also, I couldn't breathe. I put my hands on my throat, trying to gasp, but the air around me just didn't exist. My knees buckled.

  "To the infirmary with her." The professor pointed, her lightning bird gliding off her shoulder to lead the way. "Now!"

  "Got you." A pair of arms caught under me.

  I took a deep breath. The air tasted like burnt everything. My stomach churned and heaved. The supporting hands turned me sideways, lowering me to the floor.

  Somehow, I managed to not vomit.

  "Get her feet." My other rescuer was Logan. That's right, the kid who was so awkward he accidentally pointed at my boobs. Maybe he conjured the rain.

  "On it." Dylan didn’t literally lift me by my shoes or socks, thank goodness, but he got my knees.

  Together the boys carried me out of the cafeteria, where everything was a blur of carved wood, wrought iron, and sickening self-loathing.

  I was still struggling to catch my breath, and my body couldn't handle any more. I passed out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Interlude

  Harold of Change

  I followed Faith Fairbanks because it was my duty.

  She was nothing nice, but I couldn't fault her for that. All she knew was shock and snark after growing up Fairbanks, and I knew for sure she'd have it even worse when her little sister Temperance started here next year. So, it was my responsibility to make sure she had a soft place to fall.

  I knew loads about the other students here, stuff they’d never have told me themselves. The week before classes started and I moved to this campus between worlds with my overworked father, I asked myself what would Grandma do.

  Her example would always guide me, no matter what anyone said about her. And they said an awful lot of terrible things, especially Dad.

  That was why I had looked through the files on all the other students in my year. I knew they’d think I didn’t belong here. I was almost sixteen, just like all of them, although I looked younger. If things worked out the way I hoped, they'd look past that. Some of them, at least.

  Anyway, knowledge is power—and when you had as much as the people in my family typically did, you used it for the greater good. Hence the whole duty thing.

  If only I were typical.

  "Faith, wait up." Because my growth got stunted when my magic showed up, I'm on the shorter side, which made me feel like I was running to stand still most times. And the floor next to the window by the dishwashing station was slippery.

  "No. Go away."

  The sound of clanking plates filled the space between our voices.

  "Okay."

  My answer worked. She stopped and stared, her shock having the same ultimate effect as kindness would have. People without experience being kind needed to practice it inadvertently sometimes, just to start making good habits. Finally, I caught up and stood beside her.

  "What do you mean, okay?" She froze, one heel off the ground, with wide, feral eyes. She could have drowned me in them, and I'd have died happy.

  "I'll go away. But for now, I'm a bit out of breath. Give me a minute."

  "Whatever." She still didn't move. "It figures the lamest kid at school's the only one who gives a shit."

  "Untrue." I shook my head. Keeping my expression flat wasn't easy, but it was the only way someone who's been dissed that hard on her first day by her own sister would believe me. "I had to stop three other people from coming after you too."

  "Why?" And just like that, she started coming out the shock. Faith's leg eased, her previously upraised foot now planted on the solid hardwood.

  "Because we don't abide bullying." I let the corners of my mouth turn up. "Not even from your ironically named sister."

  "Oh." The widening eyes that peered past me and then all around the small corridor told me more than the conversation. She wasn’t scared of Charity. Faith was terrified, which confirmed my take on her file.

  "Oh?" Sometimes, echoing a person can get them talking. Both my parents said it helped ease a coping mechanism some kids had, ones with more trouble than I had at home.

  "Well, what are you going to do about it?"

  "I'm the headmaster's son, Faith." I held a hand out. "He listens to me. And everyone here knows it, too."

  "You can't be serious. I'm a Fairbanks. I know what everyone here says about my family. What if I sting you while we cross this river? Charity would do it in a heartbeat."

  "If how she acts bothers you this much, you understand that the way they treat you isn't the only way to be." I took a deep breath. It'd been short an awful lot since I relied more on my magic, but I couldn't let my mysterious chronic illness bother me now. "You're not a scorpion, and this isn't the Rubicon."

  "You're not a historian."

  "No. Just another kid trying to be fair, and trying to be a friend."

  She mulled that over. It was probably just a handful of seconds, yet it felt like forever. Life-changing moments are always the ones we get stuck in. It couldn't have been easy for her.

  Ultimately, our familiars decided things for us. Nin peeked out of my blazer. When Seth noticed her, the back of the tote Faith carried him in swayed from side to side. He was wagging his tail, following up with a whine before he thrust his nose into her hand.

  "Are you sure?" I'd have thought she asked the Sha if she weren't looking me right in the eyes.

  Finally, I could smile at her because I absolutely was sure about befriending her—even if her gaze almost stole what little breath I had left.

  "I chase you on these," I waved a hand at my short, thick legs, "then form an informal debate team next to restaurant trash, and you ask if I'm sure?" I grinned.

&
nbsp; "Good point." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I've still got no idea why anyone would bother, let alone you. Nobody has before." Her shoulders eased down and back. "But I'm sick of that. The way things have always been."

  "I believe it." I nodded. "So let's try something different. Walk back in there with me. Let's hang together."

  My hand was out between us all this time, open, like my heart. Dad used to say it was too big. Mom's favorite counter to that was, "Of course, he's a space magus." They both had it right.

  "Okay." She reached out, taking my hand. "Nobody wants to hang separately."

  Her palm was cool and dry against mine. As her long, elegant fingers curled, intertwining with my short stubby ones, I felt something else. Our magic.

  It's not unusual for magi our age to accidentally conjure small amounts of energy in our hands, especially at times of high emotion. But I'd only ever read about it before because I was weak in my magic, even for someone my age. That was par for my course, though, and it would only get worse with time.

  Faith was strong in her magic, which was undeath. No wonder people feared her. She probably scared herself, too.

  If I truly wanted to help, that'd have to change.

  We walked together back toward the cafeteria. She let go, her hand slipping out of mine. I didn't blame her. Nobody wanted to be seen holding hands with the fat kid, but the connection was still there between us like the tether-projection psychics describe as linking them to their bodies when they're out of them.

  My heart was full of hope, my head high and confident because I was almost totally sure I could make a difference at school, despite experiencing the most horrible year of my life right before watching Mom go her own way. No, not despite. Because of living through that. I needed to make every one of my moments count, and this was where I had to start.

  I was going to help Faith Fairbanks save herself if it was the last thing I did.

  "Oh, no." Faith stopped in front of me, her back stiff and her head shaking.

  "What's wrong?"