Spell It Out for Me

by Sarina Dorie

“Watch where you’re going!” Vega snapped at someone. “Are you blind? You just kicked my tea onto the ground!”

  Tea? Yeah, right. Knowing Vega, it was more likely to be a Long Island Iced Tea.

  When I caught my first falling star, the experience was unlike any other magic I’d tasted before.

  Absorbing starlight was like going to a potluck and seeing a tray of cookies that looked pretty but having low expectations of the quality and suspecting it would taste bland. Then taking that first bite and realizing the baker had used real butter, brown sugar, and chocolate—all the ingredients that made life worth living. The taste of starlight was like the perfect balance of ingredients exploding on the tongue all at once. Never before had I felt such perfection.

  When the star melted into my hands, the warmth snuggled into me like a cozy embrace. I looked up to find Imani nearby, smiling. It must have been the same for her.

  One bite was all I needed to want more. Another star drifted by, and I chased after it. The sensation of it melting into my skin made me feel pure and new, like I’d just taken a refreshing shower. I wasn’t even a Celestor. I could only imagine how it might affect them.

  Soon I saw.

  Those who had absorbed the most starlight glowed golden. They drew in larger quantities of energy. The more power they absorbed, the stronger a star magnet they became. Some students levitated above the roof, looking like stars themselves.

  “I’m so full,” a glowing girl said to one of her glowing friends. “I need to save some of these for later.”

  A shimmering girl painted in rays of silver and gold so radiant I couldn’t look at her for more than a few seconds carried a glass jar under one arm. The star that I’d been chasing for nearly five minutes stopped right in front of her. She plucked it up as easily as picking a berry from a bush and placed the star in a jar.

  Far below the roof, on the lawn, voices sang to the stars, trying to seduce the magic of the cosmos with music and dance. Lights zipped this way and that, illuminating shadowy figures chasing after them. Few individuals out there glowed as brilliantly as the students on the roof. Not as many stars made it down below.

  “It’s a shame, isn’t it?” a woman said from behind me.

  I whirled to find Josephine Kimura standing there. My best friend had left her witch hat and long flowing dress behind, but she still wore her black-rimmed glasses. Her long black hair drifted in the wind, someone’s starshine illuminating the orchid highlights in her hair. The lace at the edge of her white slip made it look like an old-fashioned chemise rather than something modern that people wore in this era in the Morty Realm.

  “What’s a shame?” I asked her.

  “Celestors hogging up all the good magic for themselves.” She waved a hand down at the Amni Plandai below, the group I was surprised she wasn’t with. “We get stuck with the leftovers.”

  “How can you get leftover stars? It’s a meteor shower,” I said. “Is it because the Celestors are elevated on the roof?”

  “That, and they have the advantage of their affinity. If the weaker Witchkin were on the roof and the Celestors were below, they would have to draw the stars past students with other affinities, and we might stand a chance to catch more than a few. It’s hardly worth spending the night losing sleep when so few of my students catch anything, you know?”

  I looked again to the groups on the ground. The stars zipped around, looking like fireflies as students chased them. It was so dark down there compared to the roof.

  Josie crossed her arms. “Back when I taught at Zeme’s, the students were taught to share their strengths. If you were good with trees, you helped others use tree magic before you took it for yourself.”

  I glanced at the free-for-all on the roof. “That sounds really . . . liberal and egalitarian.” And very different from Vega’s eat-or-be-eaten strategy of teaching.

  “That was Zeme’s for you, a real hippie commune. Everyone got along. There wasn’t the kind of snooty hierarchy we have here.” She glared at Vega starbathing in her lounge chair.

  “Wow! What a great school! What made you leave?” I asked.

  She hesitated. “You know, the usual reason teachers leave a school.”

  My reasons for leaving schools when I had been teaching had been things like turning my class into frogs, a giant kraken eating a gym, and the bananas in the sex-ed class turning into dancing penises. I didn’t know why other teachers left schools.

  “So, are you going to catch some starlight up here with us?” I asked.

  “I wish.” She sighed. “Grandmother Bluehorse sent me up to try to convince Vega and Thatch to direct some stars down to us. As if that’s going to happen.”

  I waved a hand in the vicinity of the male Celestors. “I don’t think you’re supposed to go to the men’s section. That amount of ankle you’re showing off might be considered scandalous.” I winked.

  She laughed and looped an arm through mine. “Come with me to talk to Lady Grouchiness.”

  Oh boy. Had Josie been anyone else, I would have made an excuse. But she was my best friend, and she had done plenty for me.

  I turned to Imani. “Stay with Melissa until I get done talking to Ms. Bloodmire.”

  I tried to ignore the pull of starlight as Josie clung to me on our way to approach Vega.

  Vega’s skin glowed like moonlight, emitting enough luminescence to hurt my eyes. She lounged in her chair, eyes closed, looking peaceful. She was beautiful when her mouth wasn’t set into a frown, but her cheekbones and chin were still harsh angles, pointed edges that might cut if one wasn’t careful.

  Josie loomed over Vega, peering down at her.

  Vega’s eyes remained closed. “Stand aside. You’re blocking my rays.”

  “Excuse me if I don’t bow down and keep Her Majesty happy.” Josie lifted her chin. “I have something to talk to you about.”

  Already I could tell this conversation wasn’t going to end well.

  Vega reached for her “tea” and took a sip, not deigning to answer.

  Josie placed her hands on her hips. “Grandmother Bluehorse asked me to come over here and tell you to send starlight down to the Amni Plandai.”

  “Oh, did she?” Vega looked Josie up and down. “Why did she send you instead of telling me herself?”

  “Because she’s an old lady and didn’t want to walk all the way back to the school, climb the stairs, and—”

  Vega put up a hand to stop her. “If she wanted to talk to me herself, she could have flown her broom up here.”

  “Grandmother Bluehorse doesn’t ride a broom anymore.”

  “Pity.”

  “Are you going to help us out or not?”

  “No. I don’t think Grandmother Bluehorse sent you. I think you took it upon yourself to ask. What you fail to realize is what a setback handing out starlight would be to your students’ education. You want them to rely on the kindness of others.” Vega stood. “But this isn’t a kind world, Miss Kimura. We’re in the Unseen Realm. It only gets worse the farther you venture toward the Faerie Realm. You’d do these students a favor if you let them figure out early on that life here isn’t all rainbows and sunshine.” Vega’s gaze flickered in my direction.

  I wondered if that was a jab at me.

  I tugged on Josie’s arm. “Come on. I have an idea.”

  Josie glared at Vega.

  Across the roof, on a different arm of the school, where the Celestor young men shimmered, I spotted Pro Ro sitting cross legged and levitating in the air. I pointed him out to Josie. “Pro Ro is a nice guy. He’ll help you out if you ask him.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” she said dejectedly. “He might not be as much of a snob as Vega and Thatch.”

  I watched her set off toward the men’s section.

  Farther back, almost hidden by a tower, my gaze was riveted by a long, lean figure. His shoulder-length hair floated as he drifted. So much silver-and-gold light radiated from
him, I might have believed he was a Fae from the Silver Court. At this distance, it could have been anyone. But something about the man felt unmistakably like Felix Thatch.

  He was beautiful and at peace with the world in a way I rarely saw during the day. He wasn’t even a real Celestor, but he could have fooled me.

  I hated that Felix Thatch, arrogant and self-righteous and annoying as hell, had this much power. It was hardly fair that he possessed so much beauty and perfection.

  I wanted to be as strong and powerful of a Witchkin as he was. I needed to be if I was going to survive—especially if I was going to survive without his help.

  I worked harder to catch my stars. I wanted to be full of starlight. It would probably help me create better protective wards since that was one of the Celestor specialties.

  Groups of less successful students had clustered together. Girls in my section of the roof had joined together in song and dance to renew their strength. Working in tandem, they attracted larger quantities of stars. Imani had joined the circle of girls. A wiggling itch of doubt festered in the back of my mind. The last time Imani had danced in front of the school using Celestor magic, things had taken a turn for the weird. Then again, she’d been holding hands with a boy she liked. All the boys were supervised and an appropriate distance away. I imagined that was why Thatch had deemed this event appropriate for Imani to participate in.

  “Spiders!” a young lady screamed. “There’s so many spiders!”

  A glowing girl slapped at herself and thrashed around, bowling into two shimmering seniors. Vega leapt up, screaming. Shifting black shapes skittered across the luminescence of her skin. Apparently Vega wasn’t the stereotypical kind of witch who cared for the company of spiders.

  Girls screamed and ran around in panic. At first I thought it had to do with the spiders. Then I saw the storm clouds rolling in unnaturally fast. The gray gloom blotted out the starlight. Thunder rumbled. I wondered if the Elementia students had called a rainstorm down on everyone because they had decided to rain on the Celestors’ parade.

  Lightning zigzagged across the sky. The thunder cracked so loud and so close it deafened me to the high-pitched screams about the arachnids. First the spiders. Now this. Something wasn’t right.

  Was it a distraction? Some kind of Fae trap? There were only two people here the Fae might want. I was a given. If they figured out what Imani was, she would be next.

  I scanned the students, trying to find Imani. She was farther down, still dancing and singing with a group of girls. They’d managed to capture enough starlight that their feet floated a foot above the stone as they danced. Imani glowed, not the same silvery gold of the Celestors around her, but pink. The rose-colored hue didn’t last. It transitioned to red.

  Fear settled in my belly in a cold lump. It had to be her affinity that was calling the electricity of the lightning. She obviously had no idea what she was doing. Probably she’d never connected touch magic with electricity before. She’d only noticed electronics didn’t weaken her the way they did to other Witchkin.

  I hurried toward her, determined to call her down and separate her from the others. If Imani stopped holding hands with the girls around her, it might cut off her supply of touch magic. It wasn’t just her safety I was concerned about, but everyone else around her. Electricity could drain a Witchkin of all magic, possibly kill someone, even if it wasn’t a direct hit.

  I’d only made it halfway to her when a streak of lightning exploded before me, blindingly bright. The power threw the students nearest to Imani back.

  The shrill screams of those around me grew muffled, as though I wore earplugs. Spots danced in front of my eyes, making it impossible to see. I stumbled forward, trying to reach Imani.

  She stood alone, all other students sprawled across the ground. She blinked, looking confused as she gazed around at the sight of the students toppled over. Her hair was loose from her ponytail, frizzy and fried. Her eyes were wild with fear. She tilted her chin up toward the sky, gazing into the flashes of blue and pink in the clouds above. The maelstrom above was unlike anything I had ever seen before, a swirling vortex of clouds, flashing with lightning. The sky spiraled above like a tornado, though hardly more than a breeze wafted my hair.

  I knew what she was doing because I could feel it myself. It was like the impulse to chase after a falling star and touch its brilliance to absorb it. Only this was a hundred times stronger. The overwhelming power confused my senses in a welcome synesthesia. The air tasted like a piano sonata and sounded like the dance of rain clouds about to burst with rain. It smelled hot and cold, and every part of me wanted to dance with ecstatic movement to the music in my soul.

  I longed to draw that electricity inside myself and allow it to consume me. That’s how I knew what she was doing when she closed her eyes and opened her arms, not unlike the Celestors welcoming starlight.

  “No!” I screamed.

  She didn’t have experience processing electrical magic. It would kill her. And if it didn’t, people would know what she was. She would be doomed to spend her life like mine, in fear that the Fae would snatch her up and use her.

  I shoved her away just in time. The lightning struck me and not her.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to process electrical magic either.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A Taste of Lightning

  Despite all my accidents and causing multiple electrical failures in the Morty Realm, I had never been struck by lightning before. It had electroshocked people around me—I had made it strike Julian Thistledown dead. Maybe if I had known what would happen, I would have paused before pushing Imani aside.

  Pleasure and pain jolted through my body, stealing my breath and probably my heartbeat as well. The electricity filled me with so much magic I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. Magic swelled inside me, the power intensifying into molten heat. The pleasant sensation turned sharp and jagged as fire shot through every nerve of my body.

  The last thought I had before I blacked out was how delicious electricity tasted. Until it tasted like my own blood.

  I slept, almost waking several times. Each time I left the cozy embrace of dreams, my awareness slipped back into my body just enough to know I didn’t want to be there. Every muscle ached, my head hurt, and shifting to roll onto my side pained me. At one point, I felt someone’s hand smooth over my forehead, almost rousing me, but not quite. I heard a woman’s voice—Josie’s? Vega’s? I couldn’t tell. Her presence felt as distant as the stars, and her words eluded me.

  Another time I woke just enough to know someone held my hand. I was too tired to care who it was.

  When I did wake at last, I wished I hadn’t. Someone prodded me in the arm, making my nerves fire with pain. I blinked my eyes open, the world coming back to me in a fog of blurred colors and shapes.

  Vega sat on my bed, peering closely at me. “It’s about time you woke up.” She was dressed in her version of flapper casual, looking like a glam business woman from the twenties with her pencil skirt and long blouse. Her usually straight hair was frizzy, with more volume than I’d ever seen, giving her a feral look.

  An untamed Vega was the last thing I needed right now.

  I sat up. Every part of my body ached. It felt as though I’d slept for days. If I was lucky, I had slept through my classes on Friday, and it was now the weekend.

  “How long was I out?” I asked.

  “All night. I think you got more sleep than most of us. Lucky you.”

  Something in the room smelled charred like barbeque. I was pretty sure it was me.

  I turned away from the early morning light coming in from the unshuttered window, getting a good view of our shared teachers’ dorm room.

  It was hard to pinpoint what about the room reminded me of the Adam’s family—on crack. An old-fashioned cuckoo clock rested on the wall between beds, not so different from the one my grandma had in her house, but this one screamed when the ala
rm went off. I didn’t remember it screaming this morning, but it was nine o’clock, an hour after classes started.

  Then I remembered homeroom had been canceled because of the star party the previous night. Even if first period had been canceled, we still had three more block periods to get through. I was so exhausted, I didn’t know if I could muster the strength to make it to my next class in half an hour.

  I closed my eyes, too groggy to get up. If my body hadn’t hurt so much I might have fallen back to sleep.

  Vega poked me again. “If you don’t fucking get up, Thatch is going to make me cover your classes. I have better things to do today.”

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. A small, but well-made rug in an Art Nouveau-style was spread between the door and Vega’s bed. The flowers and geometric designs formed a giant skull.

  An Oriental dressing screen stood in the corner to the side of the window and desk. From a few feet away, the imagery looked like it showcased a Japanese cherry tree with red blossoms. Upon closer inspection, one could see the jagged branches impaled small birds and butterflies on spikes. The red appeared to be splatters of their blood. I was the one who got to lie next to that screen at night and try to have sweet dreams.

  A plant hung from the ceiling in the corner near the desk. When I neared it on a daily basis, the Venus flytrap’s jaws snapped at me. The desk now had an oil lamp, as did the nightstand, along with a vase of black roses. The coffin sticking out from under Vega’s bed and the gilded frame containing a portrait of a skeleton gave the room a creepy-witch vibe.

  Vega had filled every shelf on the wall with her books, including the spaces I’d hoped to fill.

  This year I had fought back against She Who Never Learned To Share In Kindergarten. When Vega had taken down my watercolors and inspirational posters, I had moved her macabre artwork aside and placed my art up again. Everything she had placed on my wardrobe I had sprayed with hot-pink glitter. While I had been asleep, she must have placed her vials of dubious potions on the top of my wardrobe because they were there again.