by Nissa Leder
A few months ago, there was a fifty percent chance I wouldn’t be here now. That I’d be at home, back to life without magic with no clue what the future had in store for me. But I’m here, twice as much power filling me, unable to acknowledge it as mine.
Dean Waters warned that this year would be harder. That our professors will expect more from us. And if I’m not able to step up, then I have little chance of passing sophomore year.
Three
As we near the dock, we’re asked to get in line to grab our room keys.
Olivia and I approach the desk together, and we each take an envelope from Ms. Ballard.
“It’s so nice to have you both back,” she says with a smile.
As we walk away, we each open our envelopes up. I pull out a key with the number 203 attached to it. Olivia holds hers up. It reads 211.
“Huh?” she asks as she glances between them.
I turn around and return to Ms. Ballard
“Are we not allowed to room with the same people?” I ask.
“Oh,” she laughs. “Every sophomore gets their own room this year.”
With only half the students we had last year, it makes sense. The thought of having our own space should be exciting. But instead, it feels wrong.
We step away again, both silent until we’re out on the deck.
“At least our rooms are close.” Olivia shrugs.
“Yeah,” I say, not doing a good job at hiding my disappointment. “It’ll all be fine.”
The island grows bigger as we near the pier. The academy sits high on the hill, proud and dignified.
Sometimes I still can’t believe my life. Although I’m still working through the emotion of doubling my magic and all the changes happening, I can’t forget how amazing all of this is.
I lift my chin and take a deep breath. “It’s going to be a good year. We’re going to make sure of it.”
Olivia inhales and nods. “You’re right.”
The first years are the first to leave the boat, but we’re next.
We pass by the newcomers as they glance around the courtyard in awe as Ms. Ballard gives them a tour.
I wonder if any of them just found out about this world. Had their parents kept their powers from them too? If so, what are they thinking?
Will they be asked to risk their magic too?
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I’d have declined the trial. I could have gone to Bradford or Carmichael. Maybe distancing myself from the pressure or the Jacobsen legacy would have been a good thing. I’d still have magic now but not feel so wrong.
But if I’d done that, would Olivia and I have grown as close? Doubtful. Would Elaine and I have repaired our friendship? Definitely not.
I might not have slept with Sebastian only to find out he’d been working with the bad guys.
But then would the Shades have succeeded? Would Olivia, Micah, Elaine, and my other classmates all have no magic now?
There really is no point in wondering about all the what-ifs. My focus should be on the future.
When Olivia and I get to the second-floor hallway, we pause.
“Guess it’s time to split up,” I say, glancing at the door to my right, the numbers 203 written in silver elegant cursive font on the dark wooden door.
“Come visit me in a few?” She smiles.
“Of course.” I nod before sticking the key into the handle of my new home for the year.
Olivia continues down the hall as I enter the room.
It’s the same size as our room last year, but instead of two of everything, there’s only one. The bed is centered against the wall to the right. A dresser lines the opposite wall with a matching desk to its side, and a plush, cream-colored round rug covers the floor in between the foot of the bed and the dresser and desk.
An off-white comforter, one shade lighter than the rug, rests on the bed. Since I knew exactly where I was returning to this year, I sent it ahead with the rest of my things to make it all feel a little more me. The comforter is folded back to expose the dusty pink sheets I also sent.
Olivia and I sent pictures back and forth over the summer to coordinate. She packed her own bedding to match mine. Color-wise, that is. Hers is made of bohemian-design fabric.
I guess all that planning was for nothing.
All my clothes have been hung in the closet, which is much less crowded than when I had to share. Three medium-sized boxes filled with more decorations are stacked in the corner of the room. As I head toward them, an envelope resting on the bed catches my attention. With its color almost the exact same as my bedding, I almost missed it. If it wasn’t for my name written in curly purple letters, I probably would have walked right by.
I sit on the edge of the bed and carefully tear the letter open. Inside is a card made of thick paper instructing me to go to the fifth floor at nine. There is no info on what it is or who’s hosting it, which makes it even more alluring.
As if on cue, someone knocks on my door. I’m about to say “come in” when Olivia bursts into my room, leaving the door wide open as she practically falls over onto my bed.
“Did you get one too?” she asks, out of breath.
I raise the card. “One of these?”
She nods. “What do you think it’s for?”
“Well, last year on our first night here, we crashed the party of the not-so-secret Wicklow society.”
Olivia drops her card onto my bed and claps her hand. “That’s what I’m hoping it’s for.”
I never pictured Olivia as someone so eager to be invited to some secret society party. In fact, it’s so unlike her, I have to be missing something. “And you’re excited about this?”
“Well, he would never admit it, but I think Jake is a member. I saw a couple of texts on his phone and overheard a conversation about ‘new initiates.’ And I just don’t see how our relationship is going to work out if I don’t become one too.”
“You really like him, huh?”
She tilts her head toward me and narrows her eyes. “Of course. Why else would I be dating him?”
“I just thought he might be more of a distraction than anything serious.” Once the words are out of my mouth, I bite my tongue. Why can’t I ever keep my mouth shut?
“Distraction from what?”
“From a certain boy-next-door.”
The minor annoyance on Olivia’s face escalates to anger. “I’m not the kind of person who would use someone just to make myself feel better. You should know that.”
“I do. Honestly.” A rewind and do-over would be good right about now, but I can’t take it back. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m happy to see you so happy.”
“How did I know I’d find you two together?” Micah says from the doorway. His hands rest on each side of the door frame, a self-confident smile spread across his mouth.
Olivia’s eyes widen for a quick moment before she hops out of bed and goes to hug Micah. “I’m surprised your neck isn’t covered in hickies.”
Micah’s face flushes. “They’ve already faded.”
I get up and meet Micah halfway to give him a hug. “Hey, stranger. Thought you’d forgotten about me all summer. Your letters to me must have gotten lost in the mail.”
“Eaten by owls, I’m afraid,” he teases. “It’s good to see you two.” He shakes the envelope in his hand. “Did you both get one?”
Olivia points to my bed. “Duh.”
Micah smirks. “This year, we don’t even have to crash it.”
I frown. “But that’s what made it so exciting last time.”
Somehow doing something you’re not supposed to always makes things more fun. Everything was so new to me last year at this time. I’d only known about magic for a few hours, and I was still recovering from the shock of arriving at Wicklow, all predictions of some crappy dorm room that smelled like stale cereal proven completely wrong.
“But this year we have the chance to be selected,” Micah says.
“Which me
ans what, exactly?” I ask.
“The Mystics are an organization that lives with us long past our time here at Wicklow. From what I’ve heard, they’re basically a support group for the rest of your life. They help you find a great job, learn about good business opportunities, things like that.” Micah, who sounds like a live Mystic brochure, crosses his right arm over his body.
“You aren’t planning on wearing that, are you?” Olivia eyes him up and down.
Micah half-glares, half-winces at her. “Of course not.”
“Well, go get ready and meet us back here at a quarter to nine.” She shoos him with her hand.
He opens his mouth to say something but clamps it shut before turning and exiting the room.
“I can’t believe I wasted so much time brooding over him.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Now, come help me pick out the perfect dress.”
Olivia grabs my hand and pulls me to her room.
By 8:30, Olivia and I are both dressed in cute party dresses with full night-out makeup applied to our faces.
I selected a strapless hunter green dress while Olivia dons one that’s a baby-pink hue.
“This year is going to be badass,” Olivia says as she reapplies her lip gloss. She chose a bright fuchsia color, while I opted for a classic red.
Since I spent most of the summer curled in bed on Netflix binge after binge, I barely wore makeup the entire time I was home. I forgot how much I enjoy getting all dolled up.
A few minutes to nine, Micah shows up at my room.
Unlike the casual outfit he wore earlier, now he looks like a younger James Bond. His black suit is flawlessly pressed and tailored to his precise build. He even perfectly tied his tie.
“Dayum,” I tease.
He sticks his thumbs in his pockets and does a 360. “I’m dressed to impress. What can I say?” His gaze moves straight to Olivia.
I can’t help but wonder who, exactly, he’s trying to impress. Something tells me it isn’t the mystics.
Olivia’s legs are crossed and her hands jut into her hips, highlighting her lean hourglass frame. “Then we’re all set.”
“Are we supposed to arrive right at nine, or should we be taking a more casually-late approach?” I ask.
“On time,” they both respond in unison.
“The Mystics are important,” Micah says.
“And they know it,” Olivia adds.
When did she learn so much about this group?
“Then, we better get our asses on our way.” I glance in the mirror hanging above my dresser one last time to make sure I haven’t screwed up my makeup. A quick smack of my lips and the lipstick looks perfect again. One quick double-check of my teeth, and I’m set.
Walking down the hallway brings on a surge of deja vu.
It was at this same party last year that I met Sebastian.
I think of his wavy blonde hair and arrogant grin. I try not to remember the wave of butterflies it sent through me. Why am I always attracted to guys like him? The hot-and-they-know-it type.
But is that who he really is?
I can’t forget that as Callum, he was there for me last semester. Why, though? Why me of all people? Could his guilt for leaving me immobilized in his room after we had sex be that strong?
Even that had been kind in its own strange way. The Shades needed me or my brother, and he had me right there, unable to move. But he protected me. Even if they’d have succeeded in stealing all my classmates’ magic, I’d have been okay. Maybe that isn’t exactly something Olivia would find in her Jane Austen books, but in a strange way, it was sweet.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and push my stroll down memory lane back into the deep recesses of my mind.
This is a new year, and I’m a new Wren. Someone who cares about more than guys and partying. Who actually wants to do well in school. Someone who worked her ass off to stay here at Wicklow. Wasting time dwelling on the past is pointless.
As we walk down the fifth-floor hallway, I realize where we’re headed. This is the way to the small observatory Kaz took me to. One that requires a key to enter.
It shouldn’t surprise me that the secret society has one. They probably have a key to all the hidden rooms. I wonder how many people currently at Wicklow belong.
We wait at the end of a small line. A minute later, someone speaks behind me.
“Well, look who it is.” Callum grins at me.
Next to him, Zane only stares.
Both are dressed in slacks and button-up shirts. As always, Zane's outfit looks pulled out of GQ or something. At first glance, so does Callum’s. But when my gaze finds his feet, I notice the pants are at least an inch too long.
They must be Zane’s. Which makes perfect sense. As Sebastian, he had connections that helped him keep up his appearance. Never in a thousand years would I have thought the guy I met last year at this same party wasn’t from a family as rich as mine.
But Callum isn’t even a real person, which means he has little influence.
I avert my eyes, not wanting him to notice.
“I thought this party was supposed to be exclusive,” I tease.
“Which is why I was surprised to see you.” Callum pushes up his sleeve. “Oh, right. You have a famous grandpa. I remember.”
I know he’s kidding. He, more than anyone, knows how much I hate being from such a famous family in this world.
I give him a not-so-eloquent hand gesture and a glare.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” Zane says, his tone genuine. “I didn’t think you’d want to join something like the Mystics.”
“I’m not sure I do. But it’s a free party.” I shrug. Not too long ago, this is exactly the kind of event Zane and I would have attended together. We’d have parked ourselves somewhere in the outside of the room and people-watched while we drank wine much faster than socially acceptable.
He’d have commented on how much botox some of the women and men had had. I’d have laughed and joked that we better be careful or in thirty years we’d be those people and two teens would be commenting on us. After a while, we’d have grown bored and found somewhere a little more private. And soon enough, we’d be a lot less clothed.
Thinking about that hurts, dropping a bowling ball in my gut.
I know I made the right choice. I’m not ready for a relationship with Zane. I’m not sure I ever will be ready for a relationship with anyone. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him.
Soon enough, it’s our turn to go inside.
The five of us hand the person waiting outside the door our invites. The guy is dressed in all black, with a plastic mask covering his face. There was no mention of this being a masquerade.
Inside, the room is mostly dark, save for a few candles floating in the air.
A slight cookie scent fills the tower, sending a wave of hunger through me.
As I scan the room, I notice more people in masks.
“Those are the Mystics,” Callum whispers in my ear. “Seems they’re taking a more secretive approach this year.”
Olivia points across the room. “There’s the bar. I’m going to grab a drink. Anyone else want one?”
“Me, please,” I say.
Callum lifts his hand. “If you don’t mind.”
“I’ll go too,” Micah says.
Someone waves at Zane from the other side of the room. It’s a girl I recognize, but I can’t place her name. When he sees her, he grins. “I’m going to go say hi to Kaci.”
Within thirty seconds, Callum and I are standing alone.
“And then there were two.” He looks to the right. “Whoever the new leader is, he has definitely gone all out. I didn’t know we had access to this room.”
“It takes a secret key,” I say, thinking of the last time I was here. “And how do you know it isn’t a female?”
“Last year we had eight of the ten keys, but not this one.” He turns his body toward me and glances across the room. “I suppose it cou
ld be a girl, though there’s never been a female Mystic Master.”
“Mystic Master?” I release a half-laugh. “That’s what the leader is called?” And sadly, it isn’t surprising they’ve all been men. As far as society has come, somehow female leaders are still rare.
Callum peers down at me with his dark eyes and a sexy half-smirk. “Funny, is it? You don’t know how much work goes into the job.”
“Planning parties and being worshiped by half the school even though they aren’t even supposed to know? Sounds so hard.”
“Oh, it can be hard.”
It takes me a moment before I get his insinuation. I shake my head, but I can’t help but glance downward. “You perv.”
Sebastian hadn’t been a disappointment in that department, and I can’t help but wonder what Callum has been blessed with.
If he noticed my wandering gaze, he doesn’t say anything.
Two guys in masks walk by us.
Although the room is dark, the reflection of a burning wick shines in someone’s ring, catching my attention. The ring has a large ruby resting on top of a platinum band.
I wait until the guys are out of hearing distance before saying, “That’s my brother.”
“Who?” Callum asks.
I gesture my chin toward the guys walking away. “He’s wearing my dad’s ring he inherited on his eighteenth birthday. And I bet that’s his friend Kaz with him.”
“I’d denied them at the beginning of last year,” Callum says. “Looks like the new Master overrode my decision.”
“You denied my brother?” I hold the top of my stomach and laugh. “Everyone loves Beck.”
“The Mystics have always been too focused on protecting the elite families. I wanted to give some other students a little favoritism for once.”
“So, you didn’t let him join your group because of my family? That’s not fair.” I might make fun of my brother for being too perfect, but that doesn’t change the fact that he really is a good guy. Loyal, kind, smart.
“Fair?” Callum almost chokes on the word. “No, I suppose it isn’t fair to decide who gets an opportunity based on their bloodline. But 99 percent of the time, it’s going to work out in your brother’s favor. Clearly, my choice didn’t even matter.”