A Curse of Magic

by Marisa Claire

“Really?” I tilted my head in confusion. “But I thought you said everyone liked him? And I heard he was near the top of your class. Why would he kill himself?”

  “Just because people like you, and you’re smart or successful, doesn’t mean you’re happy.” He scoffed. “You must know that.”

  “Well, yeah.” He made a good point. “But suicide? Was he really in that bad a place?”

  Braden shrugged. “How should I know? He was my friend, yeah, but you can never really know what’s inside someone’s head.” He tapped a finger to his temple for emphasis. “He didn’t have any family. His parents died when he was young, and Wallace pulled him from the foster system after he inherited.” He gestured at me with his bottle. “You’ve seen it already. Broken Wand can be a dark, lonely place, especially for someone who’s not from a magical family. Never mind not having any family at all.” His expression turned dark. “Of course, having a family’s not always a good thing. Depending on the family.”

  I was curious, but I didn’t want to press him on his family issues. From someone else, it might have seemed like an invitation to pry. But I got the feeling that he wasn’t interested in delving into personal issues. At least not in his current state. So I focused on the issue at hand.

  “Don’t you want to know for sure, though? What happened to him? If he didn’t have any family, there'd be no one to pressure the school for answers. My friend Oliver thinks we won’t even find out what really happened.”

  “Your friend’s probably right.” He fixed me with an icy stare. “My advice? Forget about Lucas and focus on your studies. Everyone else will. And once people find out you’re a Drifter, you’ll have a target on your back.”

  He smiled madly as he slugged the last of his beer, and my stomach clenched as the energy in the room shifted abruptly.

  “You think this place has been bad so far?” He laughed disdainfully, a wicked, almost deranged look in his eyes. “Classes haven’t even started yet. Wait ‘till you see how far people will go to prove they’re the best. Witches are a mean, ruthless bunch, Meena. You’d better watch yourself.”

  Braden’s rapid mood swing unnerved me, and I found that I was no longer comfortable being alone in the small, dark room with him.

  “I think I should go.” I eyed him as I moved toward the door. I was certain that the two beers he’d finished since I’d been there weren’t the only ones he’d had today.

  “Yeah, I think you’d better.” His gloom intensified. “Remember what I said. Forget about Lucas. He doesn’t need any favors anymore.”

  I glanced back as I opened the door. Braden ran his hands over his beard and raked them up through his hair, his head tipped up toward the ceiling. His lips were moving, and I paused, thinking that he was saying something to me. But he spoke too quietly to make out the words, and I realized he was only talking to himself. I closed the door behind me, leaving him to his ill-advised mourning process.

  Chapter 10

  I explored the college grounds for a while after leaving Braden’s dorm, wandering aimlessly to shake off the tension that remained after our encounter. It wasn’t just my meeting with Braden that had me jumpy, though. All the day’s events had left me anxious. The convocation ceremony, the news of Lucas’ death, my second confrontation with Serenity.

  Wallace’s implication that he had known my grandmother.

  First, he had claimed only to have known of her. Now, that had changed to only knowing her in passing. I already knew he had no qualms about lying, after his unsuccessful attempt to conceal the news of Lucas’ death from me. I had a feeling that he knew far more about my family than he was saying.

  I thought back to the way he and Chancellor Singh had glanced at each other furtively when I first asked if they had known my grandmother. They were definitely hiding something. Many things, maybe. I feared it would be no easy task to extract information from them, but I had to try.

  As I turned down a secluded garden path, I reflected on my interaction with Braden. I worried that I had been too harsh toward him. He was annoying, sure, but he wasn’t responsible for the tumultuous events of the last twenty-four hours. In fact, he had gone out of his way to help me when everyone else in the dining hall had stood by as Serenity tormented me. I realized I had done a despicable job of showing my appreciation. I sat on a stone bench in a little shaded alcove off the garden path and contemplated my behavior.

  The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. Braden was a bit surly, but that didn’t justify my actions. My stress had caused me to treat him unfairly, and my stomach knotted as shame set in. I should have been gentler, especially knowing that he had just found out about the death of his friend. But I’d been so consumed by fear and suspicion that I had displayed a total lack of empathy, completely blind to his perspective.

  He said he hadn’t been that close with Lucas, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t true. I didn’t know why Braden would downplay his relationship with him. Maybe he was putting on a tough front in some bizarre display of male pride. Or maybe he was as uncomfortable showing vulnerability in front of a complete stranger as I would have been. Pretty normal response, actually.

  I didn’t condone his drinking, but that wasn’t a totally outrageous reaction to the sudden loss of a close friend or loved one. I had thought it was just stupid college-boy behavior, but upon further reflection, it seemed more like an ill-advised attempt to stifle grief. Clearly it wasn’t the healthiest response, but my volatile reaction was still unwarranted. Kindness and understanding would have been more productive.

  It didn’t do to dwell on my failings, though. I’d just have to apologize the next time I saw him, and make a concerted effort to act more gracefully, despite my own distress. No matter how badly I felt – and I feared there would be plenty more of that at the Academy – I couldn’t let hardship or anxiety dictate how I treated others. To be the sort of person I saw myself as, the kind of person my grandmother was, I had to remember that I alone was in charge of my emotions and responsible for my words and actions, regardless of everything else.

  I sat on the bench a while longer, lost in thought, before moving on to explore more of my new campus.

  I wandered around aimlessly for a long time, chatting with a few students here and there and kicking a soccer ball around on the green. I eventually made my way back to my dorm and studied the course schedule that had somehow appeared on the desk in my room. I was set to take Introduction to Illusion, Beginner’s Martial Magic, The Basics of Restoration, Introductory Divination and Foresight, and History of Magic 101. It was pretty surreal to see the bizarre courses presented so formally. Tomorrow I would report for The Basics of Restoration at 9:00 a.m., and officially begin my magical education. It was a strange thought.

  I had dinner at the dining hall with Oliver and Leia, but I was barely present. We chatted briefly about my meeting with Braden, but I was unwilling to go into much detail. They eventually gave up and talked amongst themselves, leaving me to my silent reflection. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lucas, my grandmother, and what other secrets the Academy and its faculty might be harboring.

  At one point, Serenity and I locked eyes as she walked to her table. She scowled at me briefly, but nothing came of it. Maybe I had backed her off some earlier. I caught some curious gazes from a few students and wondered idly if they had heard about my unusual Choosing. I didn’t care to find out, though, and did my best to ignore them. I found that I had little appetite, so I excused myself while Oliver and Leia were still eating and headed back to the dorm.

  After a much-need, hot shower – a bath still seemed too risky – I fell onto the bed, exhausted. It was hard to believe that the convocation ceremony had only taken place that morning. It felt like days ago. I wondered if time moved more slowly here at the Academy, or if the jarring, life-altering events of the past two days only made them seem to last longer. I remembered Chancellor Singh’s comments about the difficulties associated with this period of immense transition
, and I made a mental note to pay Madam Petrovich a visit when I got a chance. My brain felt pushed perilously close to its breaking point, and I laid on the bed as I tried to calm my spinning mind.

  ***

  I woke with a start, surprised that I had been asleep. I was uneasy, thrown off by the strange effect of having fallen asleep in the daylight and waking to darkness. I ambled over to my bedroom window in a daze. The full moon shone brightly against the black sky, casting the field behind my building in an eerie glow. Just as I was about to turn away and crawl back into bed, movement caught my eye.

  Two hooded figures were heading across the field toward the woods.

  Dash had told Wallace that Lucas’ body was discovered in the South Woods. According to the Academy map that had appeared earlier with my course schedule, the woods outside my window were on the southern side of the campus. A shiver passed over me. I had little reason to be so suspicious, but something about the hooded figures put me on edge.

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach as they disappeared into the trees. My vision blurred, and the room seemed to wobble, and I feared I would pass out. I might have passed out. I don’t know what happened. It was as if a waking dream overtook my entire consciousness, only it was more like a nightmare.

  Hooded figures were arranged in a half-circle around a large bonfire in the woods, chanting something in a language I couldn’t understand. In the center of the circle, near the fire, a tall, hooded person loomed over a large stone altar where a bloodied body lay partially covered by fabric. The hooded person’s arms were raised high over their head, a bloody knife in one hand as they led the others through the chant.

  As suddenly as it had appeared, the scene faded away, leaving behind only a profound sense of unease. I found myself breathing heavily as I stared out my bedroom window at the dark tree line.

  What was that? I shook my head to clear away the lingering confusion, but to no effect. Am I actually hallucinating now?

  I considered knocking on Leia’s door to check if she was awake. She might have some insights into whatever had just happened. But I didn’t feel like delving into yet another phycological issue, even though she might be able to dispel my concern that I had legitimately hallucinated. How many times since Wallace brought me to the Academy had I worried that I was hallucinating? And every time, someone had confirmed that what I was experiencing was not some delusion or temporary psychosis, but, in fact, a new reality that I was struggling to come to grips with. I didn’t know if this most recent experience was ‘real’, or delusional, or whatever. But I did know that I really did not want to analyze yet another potential mental breakdown with my new roommate.

  I squinted at the moonlit field and the dark woods beyond, trying to make out more figures. But the landscape was silent and still. I turned back toward the bed, but something called to me from the woods. Some unexplainable force drew me toward the tree line where the hooded figures had disappeared. I tried to ignore it, but it was like a moth trying to ignore a bright, deadly light.

  I pulled the covers back and laid down in bed as I tried to shut out the thought. I tossed and turned under the blanket, rearranged the pillows, pulled off all my clothes and then put them back on. But it was all to no avail. It was as if my blood itself was being pulled toward the woods, straining against my veins and making my skin feel tight, like it was suddenly a size too small for my body.

  I finally gave in and rose from the bed, tossing the covers back in frustration. I pulled on jeans, sneakers, and a sweater, and donned my eggplant-colored cloak as an afterthought on my way out the door. Might as well try and blend in.

  As I crept across the moist, moon-bright field, I considered the bizarre images that had come to me in my room. The edges of everything had been fuzzy, but I was convinced that the chanting figures and bloodied body had something to do with Lucas’ death. I didn’t know if it had been his body on that altar, partially concealed under the cloth, but it seemed possible. Were the hooded figures students?

  I stopped dead in my tracks near the field’s edge. Why was I suddenly operating under the assumption that what I had seen was a glimpse of something that had actually happened? I had no reason to believe that my vision (now I was calling it a vision?) was anything but a random hallucination, born of fear or anxiety and probably indicative of an impending mental breakdown. And, if that was the case, maybe the past two days had been nothing more than the ravings of a dangerously unstable eighteen-year-old girl, trying to avoid the reality of living at her dad’s house while commuting to community college. I glanced around anxiously, half-expecting some frustrated, well-muscled orderly in sterile-white scrubs to come bounding after me and bring me back to the Institution for the evening’s group art therapy session.

  But I knew this place was real, and I knew magic was real. I knew it in my bones, just like I knew that whatever I wanted to call it – the vision – held real significance. I didn’t know what it meant, but I intended to find out. I steeled myself and crept into the trees, my head on a swivel as I kept watch for any sign of wolves.

  I stumbled through the thick forest for a while, unsure of the wisdom of my decision. The woods were dark and silent, and I chided myself for having dramatized what was probably nothing more than two friends out for a perfectly innocent evening stroll. Or a pair of lovers sneaking off for a tryst in the woods. In either case, a far cry from a sacrificial satanic ritual. I nearly turned back toward the Academy, but I heard voices from up ahead. The voices actually made me want to turn back more, but my veins pulsed with the same urgency again when I considered it, so I forged on.

  I crept toward the voices as silently as possible. As I drew nearer, I could make out the glow of a large fire through the trees. I froze, my heart pounding. Was I about to come upon the scene from my vision? I didn’t think I was ready for that. I strained to hear the voices. I couldn’t make out anything specific, but it didn’t sound like the rhythmic chanting of the hooded figures I had seen. Or imagined? My new life was both confusing and frightening. I decided to rely on my instincts, and they told me that I had to see for sure what was up ahead.

  I moved slowly toward the fire’s glow, crouching and watching for sticks and other loud crunching debris on the forest floor. The voices came in clearer as I approached, and I was relieved when I recognized that they were speaking regular English, in conversational rather than ritualistic tones. I stopped about twenty feet away, tucked behind some shrubbery and a large rock.

  About a dozen hooded and masked figures milled about in a small clearing, a decent-sized fire blazing in the center. I breathed another sigh of relief when I failed to locate the stone altar and bloodied body from my vision.

  My relief was short-lived, however, as a rustling sound issued from behind me. I whirled my head around and nearly screamed as I saw a crouching figure concealed under a dark hood.

  Chapter 11

  The figure drew back the hood of their dark cloak, and I was greeted with Braden’s smug grin.

  “What the heck are you doing here?” I hissed at him, throwing back my own hood. “You nearly scared me to death.”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” He chuckled. “Didn’t figure you for the type to be sneaking around the woods at night.”

  “Well, I don’t, usually.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “But I saw some people heading into the woods from my room and got a really, uh, weird feeling. So I followed them.”

  “Hmm. Weird feeling, huh?” He raised an eyebrow as he considered me.

  “Yes. I can’t explain it. What are you doing here?” I jerked my head toward the clearing. “Late to the party?”

  “Nah.” He glared toward the clearing. “Not my scene.” He scooched up behind me, directing my line of sight with his finger. “I followed her here.”

  I followed the angle of his finger to a petite woman who had the hood of her crimson cloak pushed back partway off her head. The upper half of her face was obscured by an elaborate, black-feat
hered mask around her eyes. The firelight illuminated the lower half of her face as she turned her head and laughed at a remark from someone next to her. Even in the gentle glow of the fire, her thin-lipped mouth was harsh and sharp, and I recognized the cruel, joyless sound of her cackle.

  Of course she would be here.

  I side-eyed Braden. “Is that Serenity?”

  He nodded.

  “Why would you follow her? What’s so special about her?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. She’s just got a certain charm, you know?” He grinned.

  I was not amused. “No, I don’t. I see zero charm.”

  “Yeah, and you’re just a delightful little sunbeam on a cloudy day, aren’t you?” He smirked, his eyes narrowed.

  “Ugh, you’re so—” I stopped myself, thinking back to how I had treated Braden during our earlier interaction. I didn’t know why he stirred up such frustration in me, but I worked to set it aside as I bit my lip and tried to right my wrong. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. This place just has me a little freaked out, and that’s not your fault, but I think maybe I took it out on you a little bit.” Discomfort tightened my chest, but I forced myself to meet his eyes as I continued. My grandmother always said an apology meant nothing if you weren’t looking in the person’s eyes. “I really appreciate what you did for me in the dining hall, and I should’ve been nicer about you having lost Lucas. I know he was your friend. So, I’m sorry about all of that.”

  His eyes widened and his lips parted, but he quickly shook off the expression and regained his aloof smirk.

  He scoffed and waved off my apology. “Nah, it’s cool. I get it. You’re just a bit uptight. It’s okay.”

  “Ugh, I am not—” I stopped myself again, before my frustration could boil over. “Never mind. This isn’t the place for this. So, do you want to tell me why you followed Serenity here, or what? Does it have something to do with Lucas’ death?”