Hawthorn Academy: Year One

by D. R. Perry

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I spent the rest of Saturday at Izzy's with Cadence, binging last year's Ultimate Shifter League on StreamFlix. We always had a blast doing that because there was something for each of us in it. Cadence, of course, drooled over all the shiny abs on the men. Izzy loved flipping a card or two, trying to predict heel turns and rivalries, and I appreciated the athleticism in all the moves, even if, in reality, they were more acrobatic and choreographed than other sports like Bishop's Row.

  We stayed there until well after midnight, not realizing how late it was. Izzy's mom called Cadence a Swyft ride back to her house. Even though Salem wasn’t a rough neighborhood, Mrs. Mendez was a divination psychic just like Izzy, so we never questioned her caution. If she’d thought it was safe, she wouldn't have bothered with the car.

  On Sunday morning, I slept in. Hal wasn't due to come over until noon, so why was Ember peeping in my ear like the world's scaliest alarm clock? And why was it always so hard to wake up as a bona fide teenager? Ugh.

  I sat up, feeling the indent on my cheek where my face had pressed against the seam on my pillowcase. The sheets and blanket were twisted. My pajamas, too. And my hair—some of it stood on end like I’d slept with a small critter trying to burrow into it.

  "Ember?" I turned my head, blinking at the dragonet perched on the headboard. She looked awfully disheveled. "Did you do this?"

  "Peep." She hung her head.

  "Well, there's nothing to do but go in the bathroom and fix it, right?"

  "Aliyah!" Dad's voice called up from the bottom of the stairs. "Your friends are here!"

  "Crap!" I bolted out of bed, smacking my forehead on the low ceiling. But I had to keep moving.

  In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face, rubbing that indented cheek. It was no use, so I moved on to my hair. A bottle of spray conditioner and the old detangling brush Mom had used on me in elementary school made quick work of the bird's nest. After that, I put it up and hopped in the shower. Thank goodness Noah always took forever to get cleaned up. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had this much practice at the sixty-second wash-down.

  After tossing my pajamas down the laundry chute, I wrapped the towel around myself. There was a basket of clean laundry in the hall, with some t-shirts on top. I snagged a black one and dashed into my room, where I paired it with some hounds-tooth leggings, maybe too hastily. I didn't realize that until making it down to the first floor, skidding to a stop in front of the dining room table, where Hal sat with Lee and Grace.

  "Interesting," Lee tilted his head, peering at the shirt. The left side of his mouth tilted up.

  "Woah." Hal blinked. "Probably not a good idea to wear that one back to school."

  "I don't know." Grace shrugged. "I totally agree with the sentiment, but you're probably right. It's pretty controversial there."

  "Huh?" I tugged the hem of the mysterious shirt, reading upside-down.

  Vamp Rights Are Extrahuman Rights

  "Oh." Well, at least they hadn’t seen the state of my hair or the seam line on my face. "Yeah, this isn't my shirt."

  "No?"

  "No." I shook my head. "It's…well it was Noah's. I thought he tossed it in the donations bag over the summer, though."

  "He did, but I took it out and washed it." Dad came in from the kitchen carrying a pitcher of lemonade, his other arm laden with a tray of hamantaschen. "Here are some snacks for you."

  "Wow, thanks, Mr. Morgenstern!" Grace popped out of her seat, pacing toward him. "Do you want help carrying those?"

  "Thanks, Grace. And you can call me Aaron."

  "Those cookies look amazing." Lee smiled. "Did you make them yourself?"

  "No. My mother did."

  "Oh, Dad never told me Dr. Mildred was a baker." Hal shook his head. "You learn something new every day."

  "Your father wouldn't have known, but your grandfather certainly did." Dad chuckled. "Do you know she almost burned down the cafeteria kitchen, trying to bake kosher treats in the middle of the night?"

  My classmates responded with gleeful awe. I tried to join in with their mirth, but it felt fake. Bubbe had done all kinds of wild and crazy things and never told me about them.

  I noticed Grace stealing a few of the cookies, taking extra and tucking them into the satchel still on her shoulder. Lune sat on his haunches near her, ears up, on alert.

  Seeing my roommate outside of school and in my house drove something home. I still thought of her the same way as before—sort of a rebel. But maybe there was a reason, something I couldn't imagine, let alone understand.

  Before I could make an excuse to take Grace aside and offer cookies to go, the doorbell rang. I got up and ran to let Izzy and Cadence in.

  As they joined the fun, I headed into the kitchen, where I still heard all of them gabbing away. Bubbe must have been baking all week, practically. This made sense because business slowed once Hawthorn started each year. Almost nobody needed educational familiar licenses after that. It didn't pick up again until the middle of October, when the Halloween tourist season increased the number of extraveterinary emergencies.

  I filled a tin with hamantaschen to bring back to school. As I stacked the cookies, Hal came around the counter. Nin dashed down his arm, skidding slightly on the granite as she swiped at a crumb.

  "Here, have this." Hal placed his half-eaten treat in front of her and the Pharaoh’s Rat picked it up, munching contentedly. "But don't say I didn't warn you about getting a tummy ache later, Nin."

  "She's been awfully peckish lately." I grinned at the little critter.

  "Yeah, but it's typical for her species. They get a little ravenous in the fall and spring." He reached out to give her a pat on the back.

  "A little?" I blinked. "If you don't keep them well-fed, even properly socialized and domesticated Pharaoh’s Rats can go feral."

  "Yeah, okay. I made a pretty big understatement there." Hal stared at the counter. This topic was not a good look on him.

  "So, where's Faith?" I changed the subject.

  "Oh, I looked everywhere for her this morning." He sighed. "Told her last night I was going into town and everything, asked if she wanted to come along, and she said maybe. But then, this morning I couldn't find her before we had to leave."

  "I'm sure you'll see her later."

  "By the way, thanks for inviting us." He grinned. "Everybody's having fun."

  "Yeah. Like most of yesterday."

  "I heard there were a few hiccups, though?"

  "I'd tell you more, but I think that's for Dylan and Logan to do."

  "Understood." He nodded. "I saw them come in yesterday after dinner, though. With a mercat and a dragonet."

  "You're sort of a gossip, Hal. You know that, right?"

  "Yeah. Nobody's perfect."

  "Peep!" Ember swooped down from the top of the fridge, holding another empty tin.

  "Clearly, she wants me to pack more treats."

  "Well, I'll leave you to it, then." Nin dashed across the counter and then up his arm.

  As he headed back to the dining room, I considered his familiar. She was friendly and cute, but all the same, Nin belonged to the same species of critter that had murdered an immortal air dragon down in Newport, Rhode Island. Hal would be responsible with her, but people could get scared. The critters were all over the news because of Richard Hopewell's criminal trial. Pharaoh’s Rats were rare on this continent. Pretty much the only people who had access to them were Hal’s relatives.

  Was that why Hal's father was headmaster now instead of his grandpa?

  "Ember, can you get my phone, please?"

  "Peep." She took off from the counter, speeding toward the stairs on golden wings. In moments, she returned with the device.

  I tapped the news app and searched Rhode Island—and there it was. An article about a subpoena over the summer for one Headmaster Hiram Hawkins, which he’d defied. The next article I read said he was detained by state law enforcement and awaiting his trial for cont
empt. There was nothing else about the connection, but it was obvious why they went after him. The simplest explanation was usually correct.

  The critter that had somehow ended up in the Harcourt hoard had come from here. From the Hawkins family.

  The one thing I couldn't glean from any of these articles was how, although there were opinion pieces that speculated magical lamp involvement. Until the trial progressed next year, I wouldn't know, so there was no use worrying about it. All the bad guys were locked up, right?

  I came around the corner toward the dining room again, and we prepared to head into town. I watched Hal, thinking about how someone from his family was in trouble because my uncle had gone on a rampage a couple of years back.

  Or maybe there's actual guilt and corruption in that family.

  Yesterday, I'd have told that little voice to shut up. Today, it made a sick sort of sense.

  I'd have gone downstairs and asked Bubbe to get real with me about the Morgenstern connection with the Hawkins family because it's there. They’d built the school and this house, while we’d brought in all the magipsychic light and sound.

  But there was no time. My friends were waiting for me, and I was sixteen. At that age, people like me were supposed to be out doing fun teenage things, not following some obscure theory about crime and magical families.

  I took a moment to dash upstairs and change my shirt, though, because knowing me, I'd only forget to do it later and end up wearing it to school, where I needed to keep my head down.

  But I kept the tee. In fact, I wrapped it around the communication orb so it'd be with me at school, even if I didn’t wear it there. I wanted it as a reminder, so I didn't forget who I was—a girl who believed in equal rights for all beings. Maybe it'd do my brother some good, too, because he was the one who’d bought this shirt in the first place.

  Once upon a time, this sentiment had been Noah’s, too. He’d decided to set it aside, leave it at home, forget about it. He wasn’t talking about whether he’d lost faith or just felt safer hiding, but he wasn’t an extramagus.

  The stronger my magics got, the more I'd need reminders like this one.

  Out in town, we ambled, letting Lee and Grace take the lead in exploring. Neither of them had spent much time here, and part of the fun in downtown Salem was wandering around to see everything.

  Grace noticed The Witch's Brew, and for the only time that day, Lee disagreed about going in with a wrinkle of his nose. He waited outside, and I stayed with him. Cadence and Izzy knew what I liked from there, so I handed them a couple of dollars.

  "Thanks, Aliyah."

  "No problem. I've been in there about a million times, anyway."

  "Scratch doesn't much like the smell of coffee. I'm not sure why."

  "I get it. Ember can't stand peanut butter."

  "They sure are finicky sometimes, huh?"

  "Yeah."

  We chattered on, trying to anticipate what we'd learn over the rest of the semester. Impossible, of course. If we already knew that, there'd be no point in going to school.

  After a few hours during which we wandered up to the Willows and then all the way down to Salem Pioneer Village in Forest Park, the sunlight went amber and gold. It was late afternoon and time to head back. Grace, Hal, Lee, and I collected our familiars, each of us sorry they couldn't play outside together for a while longer.

  We walked up Lafayette Street, cutting through Lafayette Park to get to Washington Street. That led us directly back to Essex, with little on the way besides chain stores and sit-down restaurants we’d see another time.

  The door to Hawthorn Academy was next to a dental office. I waved goodbye to my friends, telling them I'd see them later. I wasn’t going back without my knapsack and communication orb. More importantly, I wanted to talk to Cadence and Izzy in person one more time before leaving them in Salem for another week.

  "I like your friend Lee."

  I stopped in the middle of Essex Street, staring at Izzy. Cadence actually squeed, jumping up and down. My psychic friend's reaction to all this fuss was an eye roll and a forehead smack.

  "Not like that. Seriously."

  Izzy didn’t even blush. Cadence pouted. I nodded my head.

  "Okay," I said because somebody had to break that silence.

  "I'm just saying I think, out of the lot of the Hawthornites, he's got his head on straight. So, if you're looking for some truth in that place, go to him."

  "Not Hal?"

  "I mean, he's okay, but that kid is definitely hiding something." Izzy shrugged.

  "Yeah, Aliyah." Cadence agreed. "I don't think he looks old enough to be there. Is his birthday this week or something, or did he spend like a year in the Under?"

  "You know what, I don't know." I chewed my bottom lip and started walking again. "But Hal does. Always seems to have unexpected information, and be in the right place at the right time. I'd think he had a psychic power if I didn't know any better."

  That was because an extrahuman could either be psychic or magical but not both. Getting turned into a vampire, becoming a changeling, or picking up a magical shifter item could happen to anyone, but magi and psychics were born without overlap.

  "Maybe he's got a device." Izzy shrugged. "But if it's not that, I'm not sure he can be trusted."

  "Have you guys been watching the news out of Providence?"

  They both nodded, so I let them in on my conspiracy theory about Hal's grandpa being in jail and the Pharaoh’s Rats. I was surprised when Cadence added to it.

  "Did you hear about his mother?"

  "Wait, what?"

  "She's from Rhode Island, I heard. There's a rumor that the reason she and his dad split up was because he caught her checking out some man from there. A vampire."

  "Where are you getting this?" Izzy blinked.

  "The social papers." Cadence chuckled. "You know my mom loves that gossip-column stuff. Whenever I'm bored at home, I pick it up to have a laugh. Apparently, Hal's dad is considered one of the North Shore's most eligible extrahuman bachelors."

  "Huh." I snorted. "I had no idea."

  I made a mental note to keep an eye on the Hawkins family. Rhode Island was where my uncle had done most of his dirty deeds, and if one or more of them had helped him, I ought to know. But I had less than an hour left with my best friends, so I set all that aside to make the most of that time, having fun together in one of the most magical towns on Earth.

  Chapter Thirty

  Back in school on Monday, things started feeling normal, finally. Breakfast was uneventful, continuing with the trend late last week of Charity just rolling her eyes, pointing, and occasionally glaring in my general direction.

  Despite the fact that I'd been gone for a couple of days, it almost felt like I’d never left. The main difference this week had more to do with Dylan and Logan having familiars, and that they’d gotten them while visiting me.

  Doris and Gale fit in nicely with the rest of our group’s critters. Gale spent a good deal of his time strutting whenever Ember was nearby. He had a habit of perching on anything high up, fortunately not items or surfaces where familiars weren't allowed. Dylan didn't have much trouble handling him, either, so his worry about controlling his critter got set aside.

  Gale was just as much of a ham as his human companion. Whenever Dylan asked him to do something, no matter how nicely, the dragonet made a big show of completing the task like it was a performance. For whatever reason, he put on the appearance of defiance, although he never quite crossed the line into disobedience.

  Curious about that, I went out of my way to visit the library and renew my books on dragonets for another week. The Ashfords helped with this. I even asked if they'd seen behavior like that from dragonets before. They told me no, but said they would look into it. It made me wonder what resources the librarians had that students didn’t. Perhaps there was an entire second library just for faculty and staff. I wouldn't know unless I decided to teach here someday.

  Speakin
g of teaching, our lessons went fairly well in Professor Luciano's class. He gave us few assignments, although they required a good deal of focus and attention to complete. In the lab, he had us doing safer experiments with stabler substances than on the first day. Anything we needed to infuse with magic was done for visual effect only. I wasn’t brave enough to ask why, but Faith didn't have that problem. I overheard her talking at him one day before Lab.

  "I don't want us to get behind, is all," she explained. "And I know people in the other class. They're doing real experiments, making solutions with magical precipitates, and infusing materials for use in magicpsychic devices. When will we do that kind of stuff? I'm losing patience."

  "Patience or not, science is important, and you will learn everything the other class does eventually." The professor sighed. "It's nobody's fault but mine. You see, it was my decision to run an experiment that should have commenced during the latter half of the semester, so if you want to blame anybody, blame me."

  Faith couldn't argue with that, but she did take it up with Grace, asking her to speak to Professor DeBeer about the experiments in her lab. She flat-out refused, at least the first time, but a couple of weeks later, she came to me and said that Professor DeBeer had moved some of the more complex labs up in the syllabus.

  "But why, Grace?"

  "She wouldn't tell me. Just dodged around it, sort of." Grace shrugged. "I think she's trying to show Luciano up. She went to all community and state schools, yet still somehow managed to get a tenured position here. That's one reason I think they fight all the time. Luciano went to all the best schools everywhere and had tenure overseas, then came to Hawthorn after getting turned down at Providence Paranormal."

  "That's interesting, but not really our business, I guess." I shook my head. "As long as we all end up learning the same stuff and don't have trouble in our second year because of it."

  "Do we get new professors next year or what?" Grace rolled her eyes. "It's just that their feud is so annoying. Distracting, too. Where I’m from, when teachers don't get along, they don't fight about it in front of the students."