A Curse of Magic

by Marisa Claire

  “I think I need to sit down.” His concerned face peered down at me as the cozy office spun, then blurred, and then the world went black.

  Chapter 2

  “Meena, darling. Come back to us, now.” A woman’s voice, smooth and sweet as honey, came to me from the darkness. “Come on, that’s it. Easy, now.”

  My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself staring up into the brown eyes of a woman I had never seen before. Her hair was dark, cut to the shoulders, where it fell in thick waves. There were lines of grey weaved in among the shimmering black curls that framed her wide, soft face, her skin a smooth, sepia. She smiled, flashing her brilliant white teeth, and the afternoon sunlight glittered off the gold stud and ring in her nose.

  “Welcome back. Please, try to remain calm. I know this is a lot to take in.”

  Her warm, easy demeanor reminded me of my grandmother. It was a soothing, yet disconcerting effect.

  I pushed myself up on my elbows and found that I was laying on the badly upholstered plaid couch in the strange man’s office.

  So it hadn’t been a dream, then. I had half-expected to find myself laid out on the Quaker’s bathroom floor, bleeding from a head wound as a result of a nasty collision with the sink. That might have been preferable to whatever this was.

  The tall man from the diner eyed me nervously over the woman’s shoulder. I twisted back to the strange woman sitting at the couch’s edge.

  “Can someone please tell me what in the world is going on? Who are you people?”

  She smiled patiently. “I am Chancellor Singh, head of Broken Wand Academy. You can call me Laila, if you like, though most students prefer Chancellor Singh. Students are funny that way, I suppose. They have an instinct to cling to titles and distinctions.” She nodded to the man from the diner. “You’ve already met the Dean of Admissions, Professor Henry Wallace.” She glared in his direction. “He does tend to be a bit theatrical, don’t you Henry? Can’t say I blame him, though. As Dean of Admissions, he is personally responsible for the recruitment of many new students, and, well, you aren’t always cooperative.”

  “Oh no.” My head swam, and I feared I would pass out again. I shut my eyes against the impending nausea and let myself fall back to the couch.

  A hand pressed against the center of my chest and a tingling sensation spread through my body from the point of contact. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over me, and I opened my eyes to find that it was the woman’s brown hand. Her eyes were closed, her face set in concentration.

  The tingling sensation stopped as she opened her eyes and drew back her hand. She smiled down at me. “Better?”

  “Uh… yes. Weirdly. What was that? What did you do?” I sat up and swung my feet to the floor.

  “That, my dear, is what you are here to learn. Well, maybe not that exactly. But broadly, yes. It was magic.” She stood up from the couch and walked around the low table to sit in a chair across from me. The man from the diner − Professor Wallace, apparently − sat tentatively in the chair next to her.

  “Listen, I don’t know what kind of a game you guys are playing, but I’m not into it. This is kidnapping.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket, intent on calling the police, but when I looked down, I was holding a simple block of wood. It was the same size and shape as my phone, but just a regular, non-phone piece of wood. I waited for the nausea and vertigo to return, but whatever the woman had done to my chest seemed to still be working, because I felt calm and composed. I dropped the piece of wood on the table and returned my attention to the man and woman.

  “Students are not permitted to have personal technological devices at the Academy. It can hinder your progress.” The man from the diner laughed quietly when he saw the horror that had registered on my face.

  The Chancellor smiled, her tone calm and patient. “Meena, didn’t your grandmother ever tell you about magic?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, furious that a stranger would dare mention my grandmother. “How did you know that?”

  “Because she was one of us, dear.” She gave me a gentle look. “I thought you knew.” She glanced over at Professor Wallace, who raised his eyebrows and gave a slight shrug.

  “What do you mean ‘one of us’? Who are you people?” My anger shifted back into desperate confusion. Had these people known my grandmother?

  “We’re witches, Meena. And so are you.” She held my gaze with an earnest smile, apparently thinking that I would find this information comforting.

  I searched their faces for any indication that they were messing with me, but they both seemed completely serious. “Witches?”

  “And wizards.” Professor Wallace held up a finger as he spoke. “Not that there needs to be a distinction, of course. It’s something of an antiquated label, but some still abide by the old gender divides. Bit nineteenth century, if you ask me.”

  “But I don’t magic. I mean, I’ve never like, done anything.” I turned up my palms in a gesture of confusion. “Magical?”

  “Well, yes, of course. You wouldn’t have.” Professor Wallace leaned forward in his chair, his voice animated. “See, when a witch dies, their power is transferred to a younger person, usually a close blood relative. Could be a child, or a niece or nephew, or, in your case, a grandchild. When your grandmother passed – which I’m very sorry about, by the way, she was a lovely woman – you inherited her magical abilities.”

  “You want me to believe that my grandmother really was a witch? All the stories and the spells and the rituals? They were all real?”

  “Well, I don’t know what she told you. It may not all have been true. But your grandmother was absolutely, without a doubt, a witch. That much I know for certain.” Chancellor Singh’s tone was sincere and patient.

  My confusion was replaced briefly by curiosity. “Did you know my grandmother?”

  They shared a quick, nearly imperceptible glance. It was impossible to discern its meaning, but I thought I detected a hint of tension in his voice when Professor Wallace answered.

  “Not personally. I knew of her, though. From what I heard, she was a wonderful woman.”

  “And talented.” Chancellor Singh cut in before I could ask more. “But now her gifts have been passed on to you.”

  “But you didn’t know her?” I sensed that they weren’t telling me something.

  “Not personally, no.” Chancellor Singh smiled. “But she was a student here, many years ago. Long before our time.”

  “So my grandmother really was a witch?” My eyes widened as the place took on a whole new meaning. “And when she passed, I inherited her witch-powers? And now I’m a witch?”

  They both nodded patiently.

  “Um, okay. Well… this is weird. It’s weird, right? I mean, I can’t be the only one to have this reaction.”

  Chancellor Singh smiled. “Yes, it is a bit odd. And people do tend to have some extreme reactions to Henry’s more colorful introductions.”

  I turned to the man from the diner – Professor Wallace. “Yeah, what the hell man? Why’d you have to go all Narnia on me? Couldn’t you have just, like, calmly explained this to me from the comfort of my own home or something? Maybe bought me a milkshake and broke the news to me gently?”

  He shrugged. “Hey, it’s a hazard of being a master of illusion magic. Maybe I tend to go a bit overboard sometimes. But would you really have believed me if I’d just calmly explained it to you? I saw how you looked at me in the diner. You thought I was just another one of your crazy, rambling customers, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yes.” I had dismissed him as a lunatic, no denying that.

  “And nothing screams credibility like a random, middle-aged man offering to buy a teenage girl a milkshake.” He raised a brow. “Really the picture of innocence, that.”

  “Okay, okay. Fair point.” I glanced around the room, unsure of what to do now that some of my anger had subsided. “So, what? This is some kind of witch college?”

  “Yes! Exactly!” Professo
r Wallace’s genuine enthusiasm was already starting to win me over.

  I cocked my head and squinted at him. “And you want me to enroll as a student?”

  “Well, it seems like you’re starting to come around, yes?” Chancellor Singh smiled at me.

  “Um, I don’t know about that.” I frowned at her as I considered the situation and gauged my level of distress. “But I think I’m probably past the randomly-passing-out phase, I guess, so that’s something.”

  “Excellent.” She grinned at me as she clapped her hands on her thighs. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Orientations are more of Henry’s thing, so, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of important college business to attend to. It was very nice to meet you, though, Meena. I look forward to getting to know you over the coming years.” She stood and extended her hand in my direction. “Welcome to Broken Wand Academy.”

  I grasped her hand and met her warm gaze. Her brown eyes glittered like pools of honey. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you, too. But I haven’t decided if I’m staying yet?”

  She smiled and laughed quietly. “Haven’t you, though?” Her eyes seemed to pierce into me, and I got the feeling that she could hear something beyond my words.

  “What about my dad? My friends? They’re going to wonder where I went.”

  “Oh… don’t you worry about that.” The chancellor leaned in close to me and whispered, “We’re witches, remember. We can take care of those little details. They’ll just go on thinking you joined the Peace-Corps or something.” She released my hand and turned toward the door, speaking back over her shoulder as she went. “I’ll send Dasharath over to give her a tour. Go easy on her, Henry. Keep the illusions to a minimum, will you?” The thin fabric of her long, loose cardigan flowed behind her as she swept out the door.

  “Well,” Professor Wallace started as the door closed behind her, “how are you doing, Ms. Song? Processing everything okay?”

  “I guess so.” I jerked my head toward the closed door. “Can she read minds? When she looked at me just now, I felt like she was looking into me.”

  He smiled and shrugged. “Laila is an amazing woman. She is one of the most powerful witches in the world. She’s a healer. All the women in her family have been, but she might be the most gifted healer that has ever lived. She’s revolutionized the field of restorative magic by marrying the concepts of eastern and western medicine with her family’s ancient healing practices. Truly a marvel. A generational talent”

  “So she can read minds.”

  “Well, I didn’t say that. Honestly, I don’t know all that she’s capable of. But I do know that she has a certain gift for reading people. Nearly impossible to lie to the woman.” He frowned faintly, and it made me wonder what his history with the Chancellor was.

  “So, if she says that I’m going to stay, does that mean it’s true? Because I really haven’t made up my mind yet, so how could she know something that I don’t even know myself yet? Is that possible?” My head spun again. “Is magic always this confusing?”

  Professor Wallace let out a hearty laugh. “I don’t want to discourage you, but yes, it can be a bit of a puzzle at times. But it can also be transcendent, beautiful beyond words, awe-inspiring. It’s best not to overthink it early on. Besides, she wouldn’t have to be a mind reader to guess that you’re going to stay here. Your grandmother was a top-class witch, so we know you’ve got the potential to succeed. Plus, Twin Rivers isn’t exactly the Ivy League, is it? I mean, I’m sure it’s a fine institution, but haven’t you always felt there was something else out there? Did you have a field of study in mind?”

  I bit my lip. “Um, not really, actually. That’s one reason I’m going to community college. I don’t really know what I want to do.”

  “Exactly!” He held his hands in front of him, gesturing excitedly. “What better place to discover yourself than Broken Wand Academy? It’s one of the only places in the entire world where you can say for certain that it’s literally your destiny to be here.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Ah, excellent. That will be Dasharath. Come in,” he called toward the door.

  A small, slender man slipped into the room. He appeared to be a couple of years older than me, and his dark hair and brown skin were the same shade as Chancellor Singh’s. The resemblance was striking.

  “Hello, Dasharath. Meet Meena Song, our newest recruit.”

  The young man walked over and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” He gave me a rigid, formal nod as we shook hands.

  Professor Wallace cleared his throat. “Meena, young Dasharath here will give you a brief grounds tour. There’s far too much to see in one day, and I expect you’ll be somewhat worn out from our little adventure.” He chuckled to himself before addressing the young man. “She’ll be over in Boleyn Hall. Room one-oh-four.” He turned back to me. “Feel free to rest there. The room is yours if you want it. Of course, you can return home for the night if you like, but I wouldn’t suggest it. The trip can be quite taxing. I don’t recommend doing it twice in one day, and we can have your personal affects summoned for you.” He flashed me a knowing smile, his eyes glittering with mischief. “Should you decide to stay.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I wondered if both he and the Chancellor were perceiving something beyond my words. Something about the way they looked at me suggested that they knew more about my intentions than I did.

  “Of course, dear. Enjoy the tour. Dasharath here can also show you back to my office, should you require it. My door is always open, so please, don’t hesitate to call on me any time.”

  “All right, sounds good, I guess.” I turned toward the young man, who waved me toward the door.

  Once out in the hallway, Dasharath relaxed his posture, and his formal air slipped away. We made a right out of Wallace’s office, and he led me down the stone passage.

  “So, Dasharath, huh?”

  He laughed. “Please, call me Dash. Everyone calls me Dash. Everyone except for Laila. She’s my aunt. I love her, but honestly, it’s kind of exhausting being her nephew. Everyone expects me to work twice as hard and be twice as good at everything. She’s always volunteering me for this and that. It’s pretty annoying.”

  “Yeah, I could see how that could be inconvenient.”

  “No offense, though. I don’t mind showing you around, really. What about you? You come from a long line of witches or what?” He raised his dark eyebrows at me as we descended a massive stone staircase.

  “Um, not that I know of. Apparently my grandmother was one? But I didn’t really know that until about fifteen minutes ago. Actually, I still don’t know. No offense, but I’m still not really convinced that this all isn’t some elaborate prank show. I’m still sort of waiting for someone to jump out of a closet somewhere and scream ‘Gotcha!’”

  He revealed a sweet, good-natured smile. “That’s cool. I get it. Must be hard to comprehend if you weren’t raised around magic. Might want to prepare yourself for this, though.” He swung open a large wooden door and ushered me out into the soft, late-afternoon sunlight.

  We emerged into the quad I had seen from the window of Wallace’s office. I had seen some figures milling about from the window, and I now saw that the huge green was dotted with groups of students, many of whom seemed to be holding small sticks out in front of them.

  “Uh, are those wands?” I pointed at two guys near us who had their sticks pointed at each other.

  One of them swirled his stick with a flick of his wrist and a shimmering, swirling jet of what could only be described as golden water shot toward the other man. The second man seemed to draw the golden jet in with his own stick and swirled it in a spiraling arc above his head before sending it back toward the first man. He tried to mimic the other one’s motion and draw it in, but it went stiff in the air and disappeared in a puff of steam before it reached the tip of his stick.

  “Whoa.” I stared at the steam in disb
elief as it dissipated.

  “Heck yeah they’re wands. Man, you really don’t know anything, do you?” He pulled back part of his jacket to reveal the slender leather holster strapped to his hip. A dark, thin piece of wood jutted up out of it. “Don’t get too excited now. You probably won’t get yours until at least your second year. You have to earn it, and the test is different for everybody. There’s no way to study, you just have to be ready. First years don’t usually have what it takes.”

  “Oh, okay.” It seemed like he thought he was really cool with his little holster. He looked kind of like a little boy with a toy gun, but I didn’t want to ruin it for him. “So you need a wand to do magic?”

  “Nah, any witch or wizard can do magic. We are magic.” He made a few deliberate gestures with his fingers and electricity sparked between them. “The wand just, like, helps you focus it.” He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the sky while he repeated the same gestures with his free hand. A bolt of electricity shot up into the sky, where it fizzled out harmlessly. He slung his wand back into his holster with a dramatic flourish.

  My mouth hung open as I gazed in wonder at the spot in the sky where his electricity has disappeared. “I have to admit, I’m finding it harder and harder to cling to my skepticism.”

  “Hey, I get it. I must be pretty weird for you. You’ll come around, though. You probably won’t be the only one in your class who’s learning about all this for the first time.”

  “That’s good.” I peered back over at him and found him smiling reassuringly, but my head had already begun to swim again, and I felt burdened under the weight of oppressive exhaustion, as though my legs might give out from under me at any moment. “I’m actually feeling like, really tired all of a sudden. I think this might all just be a little bit too much. You think we could skip the tour and just head to that room Wallace mentioned? I need to lie down.”