Crystal Wing Academy: Book One: Outling

by Marty Mayberry

  Who was he and how had he scared me with just his stare?

  As I joined other kids and their parents climbing the stairs, I shook off my terror.

  I even paused while everyone streamed around me and peered over my shoulder.

  The guy was gone.

  Maybe he hadn’t been staring at me; I’d just imagined it.

  Nothing had truly happened, right? It was impossible to pin someone in place with their gaze alone. The boy was a normal student, like me. A skinny student, too.

  I snorted. After working hard for Ester for years, I could probably grind him into the dirt if I chose. Contemplating what everyone around me would think of that—me leaping forward and tackling him onto the grass—I laughed then put him from my mind and continued up the steps.

  I got caught behind a large, chatty family at the top of the stairs and milled among them as they crossed a thick, long wooden platform spanning the murky water churning below in the moat. The water exited to my right, leading me to believe the moat was made up of a river flowing from behind the Academy and around to provide protection, before continuing onward.

  A freakin’ moat! Who would’ve thought I’d find anything like this in northwestern Maine?

  This time, the huge wooden doors stood open in welcome. No need to bang the dragon knocker and beg them to let me inside.

  They wanted me here.

  A glance over my shoulder told me the guy still wasn’t around. See? I’d been right. The incident had been nothing at all. Maybe his attention had been caught by my blue hair.

  Inside the lobby, I stopped and stared. Whoa. The room could host a ball from one of those movies I used to watch when I was a kid and still living with Mom.

  A series of chandeliers hung from the gold-flecked ceiling, and the flecked green marble floor gleamed beneath my feet. The heavy breeze shooting through the room from the open front doors made five big red banners flutter overhead. I couldn’t stop staring. I’d noticed them right away. Hard to miss them when they stood out like slashes of blood dripping from the ceiling.

  Bad thought on my part, considering I’d just frightened myself with the creepy boy outside.

  But there was something else about them…something fascinating. I shook my head, unable to figure it out.

  Other than a line of glyph-like writing in white along the bottom, each banner displayed a crest with an animal. Dog, cat, mouse, bird, and deer. Normal, everyday creatures. Why couldn’t I look away?

  Dragging my attention back to my surroundings, I walked further into the foyer until I stood beneath the rocking banners. Other kids my age and their parents streamed around me while I stood motionless, soaking it all in.

  I was here. Finally, here! It was late in the day and my belly was gnawing on my backbone, but I wanted to tip my head back, fling my arms out, and spin in a circle. I held myself in place. My blue hair had already drawn attention. No need to gather more by acting like I’d lost my mind.

  At the back of the huge room, a broad staircase swept upward, splitting off at each floor like branches of an oak tree. Would I find my room up there somewhere?

  And a roommate. I’d have a roommate! Would she be a friend or would she hate me? The little girl inside me hoped she wouldn’t reject me like everyone else had. The reserved teenager I’d become since insisted I shouldn’t care less. But I did.

  A slapping sound overhead called to me. Unable to resist, I stared up at the banners again.

  The one directly overhead, the one with a deer, abruptly let loose. As I tried to scramble away, the banner plunged down, the silver bar that had suspended it to the ceiling aiming directly for my head.

  My breath erupted from my throat.

  Chapter 3

  Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me to the side.

  As everyone gasped around us, the banner slammed onto the tiles where I’d just been standing—gaping like a fool. The marble shattered.

  If it had hit me, it would’ve cracked my head open like a dropped egg.

  All color must’ve bled from my face, because the man who’d helped me—medium height and build and about forty-years-old—gripped my arm tighter, keeping me afloat.

  “Guess I was at the right place at the right time, eh? You okay?” he asked with a voice heavy with concern.

  “Yes.” A shiver went through me.

  “I’m Professor Mealor, by the way.”

  “Glad to meet you.” More than glad. Grateful was a better word. “I’m Fleur.”

  What a terrifying circumstance for my first meeting with one of my potential professors.

  He released my arm, and I swiped the sweat off my forehead. My heart slammed against my ribcage as I stared at the crumpled banner lying on the tiles like a broken, bloody beast.

  “I can’t imagine what made it…” Professor Mealor’s gaze locked onto me. After a quick skim down my front, his attention returned to my face, and a tight, humorless chuckle burst from his mouth. “One of the founding families got it out for you?”

  “Families?”

  “Six founding families formed the Academy over a thousand years ago,” he said in teacher mode. “There’s a banner with a crest for each family.”

  A glance upward confirmed what I’d already seen. “There are only five banners. Well, four now that the deer decided to let loose and attack me.”

  Professor Mealor grunted. “There used to be six.” He straightened his black blazer that had a shooting star and a dragon head on the right pocket like the robe Cloven had worn when I first arrived at the Academy seven years ago.

  “Where’s the other banner?” Now that I looked closer, I could see a gap on the right where it might’ve hung.

  “It was taken down.”

  Somehow, I doubted they’d removed it for cleaning. “Why?”

  “It’s wonderful to see a student so excited about Crystal Wing Academy’s history, but you’ll get all this in class. No need for me to bring it up now.”

  “Are you a history teacher?”

  “Oh, no. I teach elemental magic skills. Like flitting.” Before I could ask what flitting was, a dark, ghost-like being about the size of a human drifted down the stairs. The ghost wore a tie like Professor Mealor’s but nothing else other than what appeared to be torn material. Well, and he carried a sickle. Odd implement there.

  The ghost paused beside us, and its voice screeched out, “Nice seeing you, Professor Mealor.”

  “You, as well, Professor Grim,” Professor Mealor said.

  Tiny hairs lifted on my arms, and I stumbled backward, but Professor Grim only nodded in my direction before floating across the lobby and into one of the parlors.

  “Professor Grim?” I stuttered out. As in…

  “Reaping is such depressing business,” the Professor said, staring after the ghostly being.

  “He’s the Grim Reaper?” I sputtered out, shooting a look over my shoulder, toward the parlor.

  “Was the Grim Reaper. Now, he teaches magical horticulture. Late-life career change,” Professor Mealor said.

  “But…But…” I blinked fast. “Who’s harvesting souls if not the Grim Reaper?”

  “Cupid.”

  “The cute little guy who shoots arrows to make people fall in love?”

  “Yes. Another career change.”

  How was this even possible? I’d been half joking about Cupid. But he’d traded in his heart-shaped arrows to collect souls?

  Professor Mealor’s brow narrowed, and he stared past my shoulder, concentrating on what felt like the air swirling around us. His lips moved but no sound came out. After a few seconds, his face smoothed. “Maintenance will be here soon to remove the banner and tidy the floor. They’ll rehang the banner tonight, once the lobby clears out.”

  He hadn’t used a phone, and he didn’t wear a headset he could’ve used to call maintenance. How had he communicated with the air?

  More odd things to ponder about the Academy. Oh, wait. Had I just witnessed magic?
<
br />   My glance took in a few families standing nearby, pointing at the banner, but most had moved on already, bustling across the foyer, aiming for the back-right corner.

  “Do you need a healer?” he asked.

  “It didn’t hit me. I’m fine.” Scared but not injured.

  “That’s a relief.” He waved toward the right side of the room. “I assume you’re about to check in. Why don’t you go ahead and do that? Don’t worry about this mess.” His glare took in the banner. “I’m terribly sorry. I’ll ensure Maintenance inspects the other banners as soon as possible. We can’t have things like this happening to our students.”

  “Good idea. And it was nice meeting you.”

  “You, as well.”

  Telling my pulse to stop slamming in my throat, I started forward but turned. “Can I ask you another quick question first?”

  His face remained open and relaxed. “Of course. Always happy to help.”

  My gaze was unwillingly drawn back to the banners still hanging above us before I dragged my attention back to Professor Mealor. “Can you explain what the animals symbolize?” For some reason, they fascinated me. Especially the deer. Although, that could be because the banner had nearly hit me. “You said each was a symbol for the six founding families. Are the animals, like, familiars?” I’d read about witches, always believing they were pure fantasy, but in many of my books, witches had familiars, usually black cats like the one on the far-left banner.

  “Each founding family affiliated with an animal, and they were called companions back then. Wizards drew support from their companions but the practice died out due to…” His glance shot away.

  “Wizards. We don’t call ourselves witches?” We being a loose term for currently magic-less me.

  His dark eyes twinkled. “We used to call ourselves witches and warlocks, but everyone decided the terms were sexist.”

  “What do you call yourselves—ourselves—now?”

  “Wizards, of course.” He grinned. “We modernized our brand. Wizard is a much cooler name.”

  You’re a wizard, Fleur! Excitement made me want to leap around, but I restrained myself again. I’d already drawn everyone’s eye with a banner near-impalement. No reason to up my weird factor with leaping.

  “You said the practice of using animal companions died out?”

  “Yes. It was a mutual decision.”

  A family decision? “But—”

  “History, young lady. Remote history. While I appreciate your avid interest in the Academy’s past, you’ll learn all this soon enough in class.” His laugh burst out. “And be tested on what you’ve learned if I know Professor Kreat.”

  He or she must be the History Professor. “So, no more companions.” If the practice still existed, I had a feeling my potential companion would’ve been anything but a deer. This family’s deer had it out for me.

  “Sadly, no. Now, we use stones, precious and semi-precious, to store our power. You’ll discover your stone in a few days during Stone Selection.”

  Would I reach into a bowl and pick out something I could use as a focal point? I tilted my head. “What does the Selection entail?”

  “Watch out!” someone shouted. The door to the left of the staircase burst open and a cluster of women about a foot high and dressed in long, floaty gowns whirled and twirled across the room with a man dressed in coveralls and carrying a rake chasing them.

  They giggled, their laughter high-pitched and tinkling, and the man stumbled, falling. As he groaned and struggled to his feet, the tiny women danced past us and out the front door with the rake-waving man right behind.

  “Stone selection is essentially…a trial,” Professor Mealor said, not appearing to notice the little women, let alone the man racing after them.

  “What was…?” I shook my head. After hearing the Grim Reaper and Cupid had switched jobs, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know who the tiny women or man were.

  Back to the conversation, Fleur.

  Stone Selection. The word trial held concerning implications. “Like, is Stone Selection some sort of gauntlet?”

  “Not quite. It’s…different than that.”

  More evasiveness on his part did not invite additional questions, but I persisted. “I thought I’d already been accepted into the Academy. Now, I have to go through a test?” Why else would Ester dump me here if I didn’t already fit in?

  “Rest assured.” He nodded firmly. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have skapti.”

  “What’s skapti?”

  “Skills and aptitude combined into one word. It started years ago as a nickname, but it stuck and now, everyone uses the term.”

  “Skapti.” The word sounded foreign on my tongue. I wasn’t sure how power and skapti tied together, however. And there was one problem… “I don’t have any power,” I whispered. None I could discern anyway.

  “The Headmistress thinks you do.”

  Did he mean the threads? I’d only pulled them that one time, when I hurt Tristan. I was scared to use them again.

  “But I must go now. Other students will need me. I’ll see you in class?” Professor Mealor looked ready to bolt before I asked him anything else, so I decided to put my outstanding curiosity on hold. History class couldn’t come soon enough for me.

  At my nod, he rushed across the lobby and out the front door.

  I shook my head, wondering what would come next.

  Putting distance between me and the deer banner, I stared around some more. Portraits of ladies and men in old-fashioned clothing hung on the walls on either side of the lobby, and their stern expressions drilled into me, suggesting I wasn’t worthy. First deer rejection, and now portraits.

  Lifting my chin, I huffed, even though I’d be stupid to think their grainy gazes—let along a falling deer banner—meant anything.

  I did belong here. Justine and Cloven had said so years ago. Professor Mealor had confirmed it.

  Arched double doorways on either side of the main foyer led to what looked like enormous parlors or living rooms, complete with velvet-covered sofas and squishy recliners you could settle into on a stormy night to savor a good book. I even spied a gigantic stone fireplace. More arches on the opposite side of each room led to new, mysterious locations. Where did they go? From the front, the buildings had been connected and seemingly continued in a slowly arching circle. Had they been constructed to form a large ring? If so, I might find an open area in the center.

  Pushing aside the last of my fright, I giggled, unable to contain myself. Despite my near-deer-impalement, this place was beyond awesome.

  Someone had set up a few tables beyond the first archway on the right, and the sign suspended above them read, New Student Check-In.

  Perfect. At least I knew where I needed to go next.

  Cricking my neck around to take everything in, I totally was not watching where I was going.

  I tripped over someone’s backpack.

  A yelp burst out of me, and I sprawled over the bag and skidded on the hard tile floor.

  Chapter 4

  Snickers erupted nearby.

  With my palms stinging badly enough to make me wince, I pivoted on my hip and rose to my feet, wondering who’d caught my latest escapade at Crystal Wing Academy.

  Two girls my age stood in an archway leading to one of the parlors. The one with short, curly blonde hair held her hand over her mouth, and her eyes gleamed with suppressed laughter. The other girl’s long auburn tresses hung well past her shoulders and while she wasn’t outright laughing, she wasn’t exactly holding her humor back. They whispered while staring at me, then the blonde burst into laughter.

  The redhead’s brow tightened but at least she didn’t join in.

  I grumbled. Great. Leave it to me to embarrass myself before I’d met even one fellow student.

  As I got to my feet, I tried to shove aside the mortification sweeping across me like a tsunami. Nobody but them saw me fall, right? Because, really. Deer attacks followed by
plunging across the floor could solidify a klutz reputation on day one.

  “You okay?” a guy asked from behind me in a husky voice. “I’m sorry about my bag. I only left it for a second while I registered at the desk.”

  “My fault completely.” I turned.

  Whoa, hottie alert.

  Petite, I’d resigned myself to looking up at everyone for the rest of my life. But this guy was extra tall. And extra cute. And he had muscles. Not lots but enough.

  Other than taking a second for a quick skim across his dark hair and broad shoulders, I couldn’t take my gaze off his clear blue eyes that hinted at secrets I wanted to explore.

  “Hi,” the boy said in what I took as a shy tone. Did he feel as lost and alone as me?

  “Hi.” My face overheated because I knew I was staring. Before I made a complete fool of myself, I directed my attention to his bag. “I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  He released a crooked grin. “I need to be more careful with my things.”

  “I’m Fleur, and you’re…”

  “I’m Donovan, and are you…”

  We both broke off and laughed because we’d spoken at the same time.

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  “No, you first.” Tongue-tied, I worried I’d say something stupid. Living with Ester for seven years had rusted my social skills solid. Sure, we went to the store and the park in town sometimes—though always at the end of the day or early evening due to Ester’s sunlight allergy. The park and store were lame socialization choices, but I’d had no other option. We lived far from everyone else. I might as well call myself Gretel without the sidekick, Hansel: A poor, isolated kid living with a cranky witch in the deep woods.

  He cleared his throat. “I was going to ask if this was your first year here but I already know the answer.”

  “You do?” Whoa. “Do I stand out as a newbie that badly?”

  “Remember? Most Second Year students don’t arrive until next week, not until after Stone Selection. They show up just in time for the Grand Ball. Orientation is just for us First Year students.”

  I couldn’t remember that because no one had told me. Stone Selection? After Professor Mealor’s vague comments, I was already nervous about that.