by D. R. Perry
"Oh, look," Charity drawled. "It's the wannabe evil overlord's favorite niece."
Hailey and Bailey tittered, the matching pigeons on their shoulders cooing in counterpoint.
"Yeah." I narrowed my eyes and flared my nostrils, leaning on their expectations to stop them from noticing the tremor in my voice. "Get away from my table. Or else."
"What? You'll burn this one, too? With your little dingleberry stuck in the corner there?" She jerked her thumb at Hal, more than once. After that, Charity tilted her head, dropping a wink at Dylan. "You're too good-looking to get stuck associating with these people, so I'll let you leave if you go quickly."
Dylan's mouth was almost comically full, and he was probably too shocked to swallow half-chewed food. But he shook his head and sat up straight, setting down the remains of his sandwich and placing his hands palm-down on the table.
"Suit yourself, then." Charity put one hand on her hip, leaning into it, and held out another. "Your fire's nothing against my earth magic, little Miss Moldyvort."
I refused to stoop to her level, and I refused to prove her right about my heritage, either. Bubbe had said that kindness is the most powerful magic in the world. I wouldn't become a bully to overcome her. What was it Mom always said?
Justice takes time. Anything instant was only vengeance.
"Ember, go!" I shrugged, concentrating hard on what I wanted my familiar to do. She got the message immediately.
On gilded wings, she swooped down, snagging the sand cat by the scruff, making the swipe she was taking at Nin fall short. Flapping like she was trying to set a record, my dragonet lifted the sputtering feline off the table, high enough to brush against the chandelier.
"How dare you?" Charity growled. "Make that beast put him down this instant!"
"Leave us alone, then." My hands stayed firmly on my hips as they curled into fists. It was the only way to stop myself from flying off the handle again with my magic.
"I do as I please." She smirked. "But if your familiar can't control herself, she'll be put into confinement."
I had nothing to say to that. There was no way I could prove Ember didn't act on her own. Nobody would take my word for it after yesterday, either. Charity was way more experienced at confrontations like this. I shouldn’t have tried to out-thinking her. That was why I had no choice.
"Ember, down."
My dragonet flapped, circling until the airsick feline had all four paws on the hardwood floor. At least Ember managed to let the cat go a safe distance away from Hal and Nin.
"You must be such a badass, messing with a bunch of first-year students." Grace stepped up next to me, rolling her eyes. "I mean, really? Don't you seniors have tons of homework plus college entrance exams to worry about?"
"Ugh, the rabbit speaks. Let's go, girls. Leave the future crime-lady and her thug minions alone for now." Charity slapped her hand against the table, letting out a small shower of fine sand. It landed all over our trays and plates, ruining every last morsel of food there, even though it was barely detectible to anyone who didn’t see it fall. "This isn't over. I'll make sure everybody here sees your true colors if it's the last thing I do."
With that parting shot, she stalked off, the twins flanking her.
"Well." Dylan finally swallowed the food in his mouth. "This has been a strange repast. But we'll have to hurry to class, or we won't make it in time."
"Yeah." Grace nodded.
"The sand will ruin the dishwashers back there." Hal narrowed his eyes, cheeks going a darker shade. He picked his plate up, dumping its sandy contents on the tray. After that, he repeated the process with the rest of the dishes, stacking them. "Put it all together."
I start helping, getting all of the sand-coated food on the now empty tray. In moments, it was all in a single heap.
"Here goes nothing." Hal put his hands on the pile and stared at it, his brow furrowing. Nin draped herself over his shoulders, letting out a high-pitched trill that gave me the impression she was helping.
Sweat beaded on his temples, forehead, and upper lip. Nin's tail stuck straight up, trembling. The dirt started fading, going pale. Once it was gone, Hal leaned back, gasping like a fish out of water.
None of us knew what to do.
"Oh, shit!" The voice behind me was the last one I expected. "What happened here?"
"Get lost, Faith." Grace rounded on her. "This is your fault."
"No," Hal managed. He couldn't say more, but I understood what he was doing.
Because I was living it.
"Don't blame Faith for something her relative did." I turned to look at the other girl.
Faith's face was pale, one hand pressed against her breastbone and the other outstretched. She only had eyes for Hal. Seth the Sha sat at her feet, looking in the same direction, whining pitifully.
"Get him to the nurse." Dylan got up, moving aside to give Hal room.
"To me?" There was Nurse Smith, striding over.
We all got out of the way, letting the medical professional handle this. He took Hal's vitals, a regular enough course of action, but after that, he got the dreaded emo-detection flask out of his pocket and set it on the table.
"Now tell me," Nurse Smith glanced at me. "Whose fault is this?"
"Mine." Hal shivered like it was below freezing in there.
The water stayed flat. I already knew what that meant.
"Bullshit." Faith leaned over the table, putting her hands on it as though she didn't dare touch Hal but wanted to show support. "We all know who's responsible for this."
"From what I see here, he's being honest." The nurse stowed his flask back in his pocket. "But Hal's coming with me. I refuse to let him go without a full checkup after overextending himself that much."
A bell chimed, signaling five minutes before class started.
"Totally unfair." Faith crossed her arms. "He'll miss his first homeroom."
"Said it was my fault." Hal let Nurse Smith help him off the bench. "Gotta go."
We all watched as they left the cafeteria.
Without another word, we exited, turning toward the hall leading to our first day of classes.
Chapter Eighteen
Professor Luciano took attendance. When he got to Hal's name, he looked up and around the room, searching.
"Ah, yes, I remember." He cleared his throat. "Mr. Hawkins is in the infirmary. I've been informed, thanks to Ms. Fairbanks. Moving on."
The first thing he did was give us a pop quiz—ten questions, simple. The only one in the room who seemed to have any trouble with it was Logan. He took the entire ten minutes to finish, occasionally scratching his head and punctuating his many erasures with a series of hems and haws. But he managed to get through it, flipping the paper over and dropping the pencil like comedians drop mics.
When the professor collected the quizzes, he shuffled through them as he walked around the desks. A series of numbers appeared on the board as he checked them over, displaying each of our scores without names to match.
Nobody failed. One person got a perfect score. I was unsure who, but I knew it wasn't me. Another one barely passed, by one correct answer. Judging from my memory of the questions, I was among the nine out of tens.
A lecture on ancient magus society followed, one more interesting than I’d expected. The beginning wasn't about magical creatures, so there was plenty I hadn't heard before. I took notes like almost everybody else. Once again, this was an area Logan seemed deficient in. He listened, head cocked like the RCA dog. He either hadn't heard of taking notes or forgot something to write on. I tore a sheet of paper from my notebook and offered it to him.
"Oh, no, thanks." Logan leaned away from me, not much but enough. Either he bought what the mean girls said, or he had OCD and ripped-out spiral pages freaked him out.
"Are you sure?"
"Ms. Morgenstern, while I appreciate your efforts to assist your classmate, it's unnecessary." Professor Luciano stood in the center of the class, which put him ri
ght in line with my desk.
"Taking notes is important, though, and I don't want Logan to—"
"Trust me, he'll get the information he needs." Professor Luciano waved a hand dismissively. "Now, as I was saying, when magi from Rome invaded the British Isles, they discovered an entirely different style of magic being practiced there."
I didn't have to listen to this part of the lecture because I knew it already inside and out. The Pictish people living in what would eventually become the United Kingdom had practiced a form of familiar magic similar to what Hawthorn Academy taught to this day. Being a legacy student was good for something unexpected. I began doodling on the paper absentmindedly.
As I glanced out the window, I noticed that Logan's head was down, his face red. Somehow, I had embarrassed him, but I wasn’t sure why or how.
I should've understood from the beginning because my mother dealt with this sort of thing all the time in her job. He had magicpsychic accommodations to help him with lectures, and he probably wanted to keep it a secret.
It was bad enough having people bully me with the whole evil magus angle. Poor Logan had to be just as self-conscious about his unconventional learning style as I was about the Hopewell side of my family.
Professor Luciano moved on in his lecture to a less familiar subject. I took more notes, finally noticing what I'd been drawing earlier.
It was an apple tree, with all the windfalls littering the ground nearby. In defiance, I paused for a moment to draw one more, this time almost all the way at the edge of the paper. “Take that, genetics.”
"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Miss Morgenstern?"
"Um." I peered at the last words I’d jotted on the paper, scrambling for a relevant answer. "I was just wondering what ancient magi thought about genetics. There were so many restrictions back then, more than now, it feels like. I wonder whether people our age had more trouble in that regard than we do today."
"That is an interesting topic, Miss Morgenstern, but a bit digressive." Professor Luciano leaned against his desk and continued, "You'll hear more about extrahuman genetics next year in Health. For now, suffice it to say that the complex social structures of the faerie courts and the coincidental records of magi often prevented paramours from marrying whom they chose. Such remains the case in dragon-shifter families to this day."
He continued to detail how, in magus society, the more things had changed before the Great Reveal, the more things stayed the same. His lecture took us around the world, the magical chalkboards illustrating places and faces to go with the subjects he discussed.
As I wrote my notes, I found myself wishing I could copy all of the chalk illustrations from the lecture as well. The visual references would come in handy while studying, besides being beautiful.
As he ended his lecture, I raised my hand to ask Professor Luciano about getting a copy of the drawings. Faith did the same thing. He ignored both of us but still managed to answer my unspoken question.
"All illustrations are in the books under your seats. You may take these anywhere on campus, but if they leave school grounds, everything in them will be wiped clean." The professor pulled a book from the top of his desk and held it up for us to see.
"This is a copy here." He put it back down. "Incidentally, I have one of these for Mr. Hawkins. If he hasn't returned in time for lab, I will pass this and his notes along to Professor DeBeer, and Mr. Young will bring it to him in the room they share. Homeroom dismissed. Proceed next to Creatives, which you share with the other class."
The sound of paper rustling and bags opening echoed through the room. I stretched in my seat, holding both hands overhead before bringing them down. Ember fluttered off my shoulder, perched on the desk, and mimicked me.
"Um, Aliyah?" Logan stood beside my desk, shuffling his feet and looking at Ember instead of me.
"Logan, I'm sorry. About earlier."
"Oh, that? That's got nothing to do with this." He glanced from side to side. "It's just, can I walk with you to Creatives? I've got a problem."
"I'm happy to help with whatever might be bothering you, Logan." I got up and slung my bag over my shoulder. "Come on, Ember."
The dragonet finished her stretching and took a spin around Logan's head before landing on my shoulder.
"Peep?" Her nostrils flared, and her tongue flickered in and out of her mouth like a snake's. I knew that behavior meant she found something interesting about Logan, but I had no idea what. All the same, I sensed her curiosity.
We headed out of the room together, taking a right to get to the Creatives room. I noticed Faith following Dylan and Grace, who had just exited Professor DeBeer's class. She jogged to catch up with them. There was only one reason I could think of they'd have to leave the academic wing on such a short break.
To visit the infirmary. But I already promised to help Logan. I settled for hollering after them, "Tell Hal I said hi!"
When Dylan turned his head to look back, Faith elbowed him in the ribs and walked faster. Grace caught my eye and shrugged. I shook my head, then nodded at Logan. I'd have to see how Hal was doing later on my own.
"I hope he's back soon." Logan‘s voice sounded strained. “Hal’s nice.”
"Oh, me too." I shook my head, sighing. "You probably didn't notice what happened at breakfast."
"All I know is, I saw Charity headed your way, and then Elanor said we should get lost."
"Yeah, it's a good thing you did." I adjusted the strap on my bag. "So, what did you need help with?"
I let him take his time, even slowing down as he decreased our pace to almost a shamble. Whatever was eating Logan, it had to be embarrassing. Finally, he spoke up.
"It's my familiar, Aliyah." He held one of his hands in the other, picking at the cuticle around his thumbnail. Judging by the state it was in, this was a frequent nervous habit.
"Okay." I couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn't scare Logan out of talking. I felt like I needed to walk on eggshells, but instead of letting it drive me crazy, I just rolled with the distractions.
"So, when I came up here with Elanor last week, we stayed at the Hawthorne Hotel with our folks." His voice was higher-pitched than usual—thready, like it’d snap any second. He picked faster at his thumb, and I worried he'd draw blood.
"Go on."
"Well, I had a familiar with me, the one my parents wanted me to bring to school, and while we were leaving the room one day—"
The bell rang, interrupting him before I could ask a stupid question, which was a good thing, considering I was about to go on a major tangent. How in the world could anyone possibly let their parents pick their familiar? Did all the Pierces think that was a good idea?
And then I remembered—Logan's family was in the business of flashy performing magical creatures. The roundabout explanation of his problem made a warped sort of sense. I should have known. He didn’t get along with whatever critter his parents chose.
"Anyway, I was saying," Logan let out a nervous chuckle, "Little guy got out somehow, and I haven't seen him since. He's totally AWOL, and I've got no idea what to do."
"Maybe talking to Headmaster Hawkins would be a good idea."
"Well, that's the thing." He tugged at the skin around his thumb again. "Ow. Um, he'd tell my parents, and they don't know. Elanor doesn't even get how bad it is. She thinks I lost him here on campus. This is such a mess, and I don't know what to do, and your grandmother—"
"Say no more. I'm almost completely sure she can help." I nodded, looking up at him. His eyes were wide, rimmed with red like he'd been about to cry right here in the hall. I looked away. "But I don't get to talk to Bubbe until Friday. Do you think you can hold on until then?"
"I'll try, but yeah, I think so. It helps that Dylan doesn't have a familiar either, so he sort of tanks that aggro for me if you get what I mean." Logan tugged the collar of his expensive distressed t-shirt. "Ugh, my geek’s showing."
"That's okay." I put on my
best imitation of Captain America. "I get that reference."
Logan made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Something about Logan Pierce made me nervous, even though he was nowhere near perfect because looks aren't everything. It was like his own anxiety extended around him. All I wanted to do was help him get through it.
Helping someone was fine. I wasn’t sure I wanted to date Logan, even though our siblings had tried to push us together before we’d even met, which didn't sit well with me. Neither did the knowledge that his family might be exploiting magical creatures instead of befriending them.
But befriending was what happened there between us, which was nice but not exactly productive. We both forgot a detail so important I couldn’t help him without it. We were also almost at the door for Creatives and out of time for this chat.
"Logan?"
"Yeah?"
"What kind of creature is he?" I refused to speak about his runaway critter in the past tense. "Your missing familiar?"
"Oh, yeah." He smacked his hand against his forehead. "He's a dragonet, sort of like yours but different."
"Okay. Well, what does he look like?"
"I'm not completely sure."
I stopped in the middle of the hall because the idea was so shocking. I couldn’t imagine forgetting what Ember looks like, or even Lotan, and that's my brother's familiar, for crying out loud.
“I mean, I can’t describe him with words.” He hung his head. “Not so good with that.”
Logan got accommodations in class for a reason. What would Mom do?
"Maybe you can draw or paint him?"
"Okay, yeah." Logan's face actually lit up. "I love painting, but it does take a while when it's not on a computer."
"You're an artist?" I caught up with him again.
"I wouldn't say that, really." He pulled the classroom door open. "I'm not supposed to be one. But when we're all done with rehearsals and teaching the critters their tricks, it's what I do with my free time."
"Cool!" I smiled. "It's nice to have a hobby like that. I can barely draw a circle."