by D. R. Perry
"Now you're going to make your orbs. We'll go over how important speed and power are another day. For now, you just have to make the damn things, so conjure your magic into your hands and watch what happens."
I'd done it before, so I took the lead yet again. It looked like that would be par for the course in Gym so far, although I’d hoped it would be different. Keeping your head down is hard when nobody else steps up.
I felt heat before I saw the fire as I called on my magic. The energy from one hand pushed against the energy in the other, opposing forces that caved in on each other, making a ball. It's supposed to go clockwise, turning in the same direction as time.
Except mine didn't. Instead, it went in the opposite direction, and I knew from experience that was not normal for me.
"Are you a southpaw, Morgenstern?" Coach Pickman asked.
"No, ma'am." I shook my head but kept up the flow of energy in the backward ball it produced. After all, she hadn’t told me to stop.
"Ambidextrous?" She followed up.
"I'm not sure." That was true. I never tried using my left hand instead of my right for writing, anyway.
"Well, your brother is a southpaw, and he's one of the best players in his year. Widdershins balls are easier to throw curves with but harder to control sometimes. Whatever works, you do it." The coach clapped her hands, pacing down the row of students. "Make it snappy, get those balls going."
"Oh! I feel something!" It was Alex. Sure enough, slick green energy whirled between his hands—clockwise, of course.
"Keep conjuring, kiddos." The smirk Coach Pickman made wasn't entirely unkind until her gaze fell on Bailey. "What's your holdup?"
"I got injured yesterday." She showed off her hand, the palm still covered with an extra-large Band-Aid.
"There's no note from Nurse Smith. Conjure already."
"I said, I can't." Bailey's lip trembled.
"Should I call him, then? Or maybe your mommy?"
Bailey shook her head. After that, she put her hands in the correct positions, and sure enough, almost right away, she held a whirlwind between her palms. It must have hurt since she grimaced the entire time.
"See? That wasn't so hard."
Logan made his water ball with no trouble. This was probably something he'd done on stage before because it was pretty and flashy. Faith's magic ball didn't appear even though her hands were in the right positions, her face placid.
"Good job, Fairbanks." Coach Pickman nodded. "You've outdone your sister on this one."
"Huh?" Hal blinked.
"Undeath magic is gray normally." The coach pointed slightly off to the side of Faith's hands. "It’s off-kilter in an orb, and barely visible. You need to look left of center to see it. This magic is well suited to Bishop's Row. The opposite team will have trouble getting out of the way in time. Now all Fairbanks has to do is move faster than a turtle."
Her face reddened, eyes too shiny. I knew stifled tears of rage when I saw them, so I decided to use my jock privilege.
"I'll help her practice, Coach."
"Good."
"What?" Faith's eyes widened, the glimmer of impending tears vanishing in the wake of her feigned outrage. "You mean I have to spend time with this jock/nerd hybrid?"
"You'd better, or risk a failing grade in this Special." Coach Pickman held up the whistle she wore around her neck. "You'll learn to throw your orbs tomorrow. For now, class dismissed!" She let out a blast on her whistle, ending the session.
Logan and Alex good-naturedly punched each other's shoulders while I helped everyone put their ankyr sets and cestuses back in the footlocker. We all headed for the locker rooms, most in good spirits, except for Bailey. Even Hal looked excited in a tired sort of way.
"Totally unfair," Faith mumbled. But instead of rolling her eyes at me, she nodded.
Maybe our animosity was cooling.
Chapter Twenty
I stood outside the cafeteria and took a deep breath. Going back in there after all the trouble I had at mealtimes felt like a bad idea, but I had no choice. This was part of our schedule. While I could opt not to eat, I couldn’t skip it without the potential for trouble. I was already in this school's version of detention, so the last thing I needed was more disciplinary action and negative attention from the faculty.
I walked in alone and picked up a tray. Even though the panini sandwiches on order in the kitchen smelled heavenly, I avoided the prepared foods window. I didn't want to stand with my back to the door like an invitation, so I headed to the toaster and the bread.
I took out two slices of pumpernickel, then grabbed containers of sun butter and packets of jelly to make myself a sandwich at the table. I turned around to go back for the butter knife and napkins I’d forgotten and almost ran into Dylan and Grace.
"What's the rush?" Grace gestured at my tray. "Don't you want a hot lunch?"
"Maybe when it's pizza day." I shrugged. “Pizza is faster than panini.”
"Well, you can always wait with us." Dylan gestured at the window where the food prepared on request come out. "But this lunch hour is only for our year. No upperclassmen allowed."
"Yeah, no need for sun butter and jelly sandwiches unless you actually like those." Grace wrinkled her nose.
“I’d rather have a panini.” I nodded and went with them, keeping the food on my tray.
I couldn't put the bread back in the bag without it being gross for the next person and didn’t want to throw it out, so I grabbed a brown paper bag from the stack by the breadbox. These ingredients would make a great snack later.
At the window, Grace ordered ham, Swiss, and mustard on rye. I ordered turkey and avocado on pumpernickel. It's my favorite bread. Dylan went totally overboard, ordering what I could only describe as a Frankensandwich.
"Hi there, Steve." He worked for the cafeteria, so of course, he knew this guy by name, or maybe he just cared about the other folks working here. "I want bacon, ham, chicken salad, turkey, roast beef, and one slice of every cheese you've got. Oh, and hot sauce too, if that's okay. Put it on a hoagie roll and bake it 'til the cheese melts. And don't go easy on that hot sauce, please."
Steve the sandwich professional started humming You're Welcome from Moana. You know, the song the demigod sings? Judging by the delicious scents wafting from the kitchen as he worked, he just might have had culinary magic. I'm kidding. No such thing exists.
"Are we secretly being recorded for that crazy reality show? What's it called again?" Grace snapped her fingers. "The Biggest Eater. Did I get that right?"
"You did, but nobody's filming. It's just that between work all morning, then class, plus having Gym before Creatives, I'm freaking starving. Like, my stomach's threatening vengeance on the Dylan Nation."
"Speaking of Gym, how did it go for you guys?" I only asked my friends a friendly question. I wasn’t spying on their strategy and skills like Richard Hopewell might have. At least, I hoped I wasn’t. Ugh.
"We don't have Coach Pickman, so we have it easier than you." Grace feigned a shudder, then grinned. "Coach Chen is super chill. I heard he didn't even yell at Darren last year when he refused to run laps."
"Pickman's a taskmaster for sure. Judging by my class's experience, I think the twins might be the weakest link when we start playing." I told them about Bailey's overzealousness and then her reluctance to make her magic orb. "But I probably shouldn't be telling you all this since we'll compete against each other soon."
"It's almost like you're totally evil, fraternizing with the enemy and all." Faith elbowed her way between Grace and me, bellying up to the window. "BLT on wheat," she said to the worker behind the counter. She didn't say please or look them in the eye, and she called me evil?
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't get all bent out of shape." Faith turned around, shaking her head. I'd have taken it as a gesture of superior defiance, but her shoulders drooped. "I've got resting- bitch everything and I hate breaking a sweat. Sarcasm’s my only skill. I
t's not personal."
Somehow the BLT was done before the rest of our food order. Probably because of Dylan's famous Frankensandwich. In any case, Faith stalked off, taking a detour by the self-serve soup urns.
Our order came out so we all thanked Steve again and got our sandwiches, heading for the booth Hal already sat in, waving at us. He got up, so I took that as a sign that he wanted to sit on the outside. Eventually we’re seated, Grace against the wall beside Hal and me next to Dylan on the outside.
All Hal had in front of him was a standard coffee mug filled with what looked like wonton soup. He lifted the cup wearily, almost as though it were too heavy, drinking down the last dregs of broth. After that he leaned back like he's exhausted from a hike through the desert and the soup in his cup was the first water he'd had in ages.
After that, the strangest thing in the world happened. Well strange for Hawthorn Academy anyway. Faith Fairbanks, self-styled resting bitch everything, marched up to our table. She looked Hal straight in the eye before setting an entire bowl of wonton soup down in front of him, along with chow Chow meinMein noodles and a big spoon.
"You need more than a lousy coffee mug if you're going to get better anytime soon. Eat your lunch and don't say I never did anything for you." She turned her back to us and flounced away, the flowing kneelength skirt she wore flipping with her legs as she walked.
Hal stared after her, almost mesmerized. Or maybe that’s just how he looked every time he's a combination of surprised and under the weather. Someday I might know him well enough to say one way or the other but not yet. We all watched as Faith took a seat at the table with Alex, Lee, and lanky magus with glasses and curly hair who I didn't recognize. He must have been from the other class. Maybe he was Alex's roommate. Eventually I'd find out, I suppose.
Dylan tapped me on the shoulder and took a deep breath, about to speak. From my experience socializing with him this summer, I knew that look meant this was something important. But before he could say a word, we get interrupted.
"Hey guys, is there room for me?" Logan held a tray full of food.
Even though he obviously spoke to me directly, I didn't pick this table out. I looked to Hal for his decision.
"Yeah probably," he turned to Grace, "is it okay if we make room for Logan?"
Grace nodded, her mouth too full of food to speak. Just as they finished shuffling around enough to make space, the twins surrounded Logan. They were all smiles, the fake plastic kind.
"Oh no, Logan." Hailey said. "You've just got to come sit with us."
"But--"
"No really, there's someone who wants to meet you. Another fire magus." Bailey batted her eyes. "Please, she practically begged us to bring you over and introduce you."
"Go on." Hal nodded. "But there's always a place for you here if you need it."
Logan grinned back, then walked away with the twins. His shoulders remained high and tense. They headed for a table with the girl with the sphinx. She looked surprised to see Logan and I guessed the twins lied to get him over there. Of course, her cat wasn’t with her. All our familiars were having their own lunches in the corner.
Something I failed to mention earlier about mealtimes was this. Our familiars got fed three times per day. In the morning, in our rooms. Their food appeared along with the wake-up bell. This was why they weren’t hungry while we had breakfast. They got their third meal between class and our dinner hour. Folks stuck in Familiar Bonding fed their critters there.
Lunch was the only meal they needed to take while we ate. That’s one reason the lunch periods were broken up so it was only served to one year at a time. Also, with customized hot lunches, it was easier on the cooking staff to serve fewer students each hour. I'd bet the hazing between upper and lowerclassmen might have been another reason.
Our familiars ate in a designated area of the cafeteria. Food appeared the same way as in our rooms every morning. Which is to say via mysterious teleportation. I couln't imagine Headmaster Hawkins was personally responsible for delivering every dish of magical critter food throughout the entire campus. He probably had a Magipsychic device on a timer or an assistant to help.
Or maybe not, judging by his apparent stress level. Maybe he wasn't prepared for this either. In any event, it was a good thing the upperclassmen weren’t here with us. Because none of us had our familiars nearby to help defend against bullying.
As I sat, enjoying the simple pleasure of lunch with friends, I realized this was the most peaceful meal I'd had since coming here. I could have gotten used to it but shouldn't. Only one third of all my cafeteria experiences would be lunches.
Dylan didn't try talking to me again until after we cleared our trays and set our dishes at the window for the cleaning staff. When he did, he got right to the point without preamble or hesitation.
"Aliyah, I have to talk to you about Logan's familiar. The one he’s painting."
"Okay."
"I've seen that dragonetdragonet before." He sighed.
"Where? At the Willows?" I figured since I met Ember there for the first time, maybe there was a dragonet-friendly hangout on the premises that would have attracted Logan's wayward little friend. "Was he okay?"
"This is going to sound really weird, and I want you to just listen. Don't say anything until I'm done, okay?"
I’d always had trouble managing my brain's internal/external features. Interjections just kind of happened when I was involved in a conversation, especially one that was weird. I was about to tell him I couldn't make any promises until I looked in his eyes.
Dylan Kahn, the nonchalant fun-loving king of tension breaking, was scared.
"I might put my hand over my mouth because you know what happens when I hear a crazy story."
"Yeah, I kind of figured, but I think you're the only person I can talk to about this who'd remotely understand, and I'm freaking out. So, will you hear me out?"
"Are you sure it's me you want? I bet Hal would listen."
"No. I mean, I'm sure he would. He's a great kid with a huge heart. But you know more about critters than anyone else here who isn't a professor."
"Well, Noah—"
"Stop putting yourself down, Aliyah. And listen, okay? We don't have a lot of time before the next Special starts."
"All right. And I promise to keep my mouth shut no matter what."
"Starting over. I've seen that dragonet before—the one Logan is sketching for a painting." Dylan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I've been dreaming about him since I was a kid."
I didn't say anything, because that was what he asked for. Promises matter, so I waited. Whatever came next must be difficult to say. Dylan lowered his voice enough so the clink and spray of the dishwasher shielded his words from prying ears.
"And I shouldn't have been because my parents had me tested practically the minute my magic started coming in. My level of aptitude is average. I'm not powerful enough to have a dragonet familiar, not like you."
I blinked. I knew dragonets were most frequently attracted to magi of above-average power level or higher, but I'd never been tested and wouldn't have classified myself as such. Dylan had just paid me a huge compliment, and I couldn't even say thank you because I’d promised not to talk until he was done.
"Logan‘s making that painting so you know what his dragonet looks like. I know he’s missing, and I'm aware that he got your help."
Right then, I wanted so badly to ask how he knew. He only specified one piece that he got from Logan firsthand. Was Dylan spying on his classmates somehow, or was I paranoid?
"But what you don't know is that they never bonded. His parents picked the flashiest dragonet they could find and put a collar on the critter for appearances because that's all they care about. So, what you think of all this?" Dylan's eyes were wide and wild. "I can't figure any of it out, and it's driving me to distraction."
Fortunately, my brain spat out a course of action immediately. Unfortunately, I wasn’t entirely sure I should
help either of the boys. Even if they were both honest and had good intentions, the entire situation seemed too hinky. Was it a coincidence? And for good or ill?
While I tried to ask questions in my head now instead of later, my mouth shot first.
"I think we ought to prioritize finding this dragonet. And when we do, the three of us go in a room together and figure it all out. Logan says he doesn't want his parents knowing his familiar's lost. Spouting theories, questioning ourselves, and assuming will only make this worse." I took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm going home on Friday night after Familiar Bonding and talking to Bubbe. Izzy and Cadence said they wanted to see you this weekend. I think if I invite Logan along also, we might be able to settle this off-campus, away from—" I gestured at nothing. "Walls with ears."
"You know, that's a good idea. Dealing with this off-campus, I mean."
"Did it help? Talking about it?"
"Just saying it out loud was a big deal, but yes. Thank you, Aliyah. You have no idea much you helped just now."
"It's about time I did something right here." I smirked.
"You know, just because you make the right choice, it doesn't mean it turns out in your favor. You can be perfect and still fail. Intention is more important than outcome."
"Well, now it's my turn to thank you, Dylan. Thanks for being a friend. It means a lot, especially here."
The bell rang, cutting us off from any further discussion. Ember came flying across the cafeteria, fluttering to slow and make a soft landing on my shoulder. As Dylan and I went our separate ways to our next Specials, I knew at least one thing for sure.
My own problems might have been the most obvious, front and center for everyone to see, but everybody had their own struggles, visible or not.
It wasn’t a comforting thought because distress is never like that. But knowing I was not alone had a value beyond expression.
There was safety in numbers.
Chapter Twenty-One
I was in the library with the rest of my homeroom. It was enchanting, an open area in the middle with two levels. A set of wide stairs led from the lower level to the upper, which was bordered by wooden railings. The walls were darker here than in the rest of the academic wing, but not by much. They matched the inlay on the floors, a semi-spiral Greek Key pattern.