by Angel Leya
“Speaking of trees, you know what kind of tree a math teacher climbs, don’t you?” Mr. Suzuki asked the one remaining student, who rolled his eyes as he put away whatever project he’d been working on. “Geomet-tree. Get it?” He laughed a moment before his head swiveled Kenzie’s way, his eyes lighting up. “Kenzie! What brings you here? Did you lose your kitten?” Mr. Suzuki cackled again, and the other student ducked his head and bolted. Kenzie couldn’t blame him.
Kenzie snorted, looking around the room for what felt like the first time. There were parts and gizmos everywhere, despite the rolling stations that housed each student’s project. “If I was going to lose a kitten, this would be the place to do it. How do you even find anything in here?”
“Easy. There’s bolts over there, failed tech over there, stuff we can salvage for parts—”
“That’s okay. Thanks. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Ren smirked. “Tell me your mom didn’t send you to break up with me.”
Kenzie chuckled. Okay, so it wasn’t much funnier than the first few times she’d heard it, but maybe she was a little amused. And maybe she just wanted to make sure she was firmly on his good side. “No. And you know Mom never would.”
“No, you know. I’ve only been dating her for a year, and all I know is she likes to hit on me.”
“You mean hit you?” Kenzie raised a brow.
Mr. Suzuki smirked. “That’s what I said.”
“Mmmhmm. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about Christmas.”
“Oh, ho! So you are spying for your mom. She wants to know what I want, does she?”
Kenzie shook her head. “I want to decorate the school.”
Ren blinked. “The whole thing? I thought we were doing things low-key this year.”
“No, no, no! We need it to be decked out in all the glitzy, gaudy glory of Christmas. And we need it done yesterday.”
A slow grin spread across Mr. Suzuki’s face. “Well, I haven’t invented anything for time travel yet. That might take a year or two.”
“Mr. Suzuki!” Kenzie pleaded, her voice rising in pitch, her most earnest face on. “I know you have the snow machine, or whatever it was, but I was hoping you could come up with a garland cannon or a . . . I don’t know, a Christmas light shooter or something.”
“Hhmmmm.” Ren pulled his stool to the counter, grabbed paper and pen, and begin sketching. “Cannon. Isn’t there some Christmas song in Cannon or something? But I like the way you’re thinking, little pup. Heh. Pup. That kinda makes you and Wes like cats and dogs, doesn’t it?”
Kenzie lifted a brow, unsure what Mr. Suzuki was talking about.
“Because seals? Their young are called pups.” Mr. Suzuki waved Kenzie’s unphased state off. “Whatever. You ever think of using that diabolical mind of yours for tinkering?”
“Ha. I’m already enough of a klutz as it is. Magic is bad enough. I’d rather not add electricity to it.”
“So you’re telling me you’d rather not become Volt-emort.”
Kenzie snorted, crossing her arms and shaking her head. How Mr. Suzuki could sketch and plan and still come up with this stuff was beyond her. She was lucky to be able to tie her shoes while chewing bubble gum.
She glanced over Mr. Suzuki’s shoulder, trying to figure out what he was thinking. But before she could make heads or tails of it—not that she’d ever be able to do it—Oberon walked in. Kenzie straightened and took a step back, giving him a tight-lipped smile.
“Ah, isn’t this cute. Having some bonding time, are we?”
Kenzie shrugged, looking down at her feet.
Mr. Suzuki chuckled. “You could say that. We’re gonna make the Dome blow up.”
Oberon stopped, his brows drawing down. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right.”
“Oh, you heard me right. It’s going to be a chris-mess, if you know what I mean.”
Kenzie bit her lower lip, wishing Mr. Suzuki would stop talking about it. She’d gone to him first, hoping she could rope him into helping before getting permission from Oberon. But if the director found out now, and didn’t approve . . . well, Kenzie hoped that didn’t happen.
Oberon shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to spell this one out, Ren.”
“Deck the halls? Trim the tree? Turn this place into tinsel town? Perform a little Christmas decorating magic? Well, not magic magic, but you get the point.”
“You still have the snow thingy, don’t you? Why do we need anything else?”
“Because it’s Christmas!” Kenzie said, flapping her arms, then winding them around each other as both sets of eyes found her.
Oberon didn’t take his eyes off Kenzie as he asked, “Ren, do you have time for any of this?”
Mr. Suzuki scratched the back of his head. “Well, I’m sure I could fit it in, between the simulation modifications and smart clothing upgrades and— She didn’t ask you about doing this, did she?”
Oberon shook his head. “No. Kenzie, I appreciate your dedication to making the school more festive this year, but I’m not sure it’s such a great idea. There are still a lot of students mentally and emotionally recovering after last year’s holidays. We don’t really have the resources to do what you’re asking.”
Kenzie sent a pleading look to Mr. Suzuki, but his eyes were trained on the floor. Traitor. “Fine. So we just use the snow thingamajig, and I’ll do everything else with the team I’m assembling.”
Oberon stared at Kenzie long and hard, then let out a long breath. “Fine. Do what you want with decorating—within reason, of course. You’ll have to clean it up afterward, as well.”
Kenzie nodded, giving him what she hoped was an earnest smile. “Thank you, Oberon. You won’t regret it.”
Oberon gave a curt nod. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some things I’d like to discuss with Ren, here.”
“That wouldn’t happen be about bringing in more selkies, would it?” Kenzie flashed a toothy grin. There was no way. He’d said no before, and didn’t seem ready to change his mind, but maybe if he got a few more nudging reminders, eventually the director would cave.
Oberon shook his head as he chuckled.
“Never mind. Thanks!” Kenzie headed for the door, but stopped when Oberon called her name.
“Try not to actually ‘blow the place up,’ will you?”
Kenzie nodded as she left, but her mind was on something Mr. Suzuki had said about creating Christmas magic. She was a selkie; she had magic. Gram had even used a spell to grow a Santa beard on her. And if Gram could do that, surely there was some cool stuff in that grimoire that could be twisted into something more festive.
And tomorrow’s Mastery class was the perfect time to try.
Her stomach rumbled again. She headed for the Dining Hall, struck by even more inspiration. Yes, this Christmas was going to be spectacular—with or without help.
Chapter 6
Kenzie woke from another Trevor dream feeling like she’d been hit by a truck. What the heck was wrong with her? Oh yeah, she’d had a dream about Wes with Ms. Vex before the Trevor dream. Maybe it was dream retaliation. Whatever it was, Kenzie could do without.
She donned her Santa hat as she headed for the Dining Hall, and was more than a little disturbed to find Trevor watching her as she walked through the common room. He even smiled, though she didn’t return the gesture, too groggy and shocked to properly respond. What was his deal all of a sudden? He’d always been the least vocal of the trio, letting Helena and Lenore do the dirty work while he watched, but that didn’t lessen his involvement. Did it? Maybe he was keeping up the good work by spying on her or something. Whatever. Kenzie didn’t have time for their games.
Kenzie made it through breakfast half asleep—as usual. Thankfully Wes was there for her to prop her head on. It wasn’t until she was halfway through Mastery class that she remembered the Christmas cookies she’d made last night. Kenzie set the spell book on her little table a
nd told Ms. Heather she’d be right back, then dashed past swooping harpies and to the kitchen. Hopefully no one had gotten into her stuff. She’d made gingerbread cookies, savoring the smell of molasses and vanilla that came from the oven as she baked. She frosted them with little Santa hats and everything—well, at least she tried to. They looked more like some three-year-old’s version, but hey, close enough, right?
The baggies were still where she’d left them, and she threw them all into a big garbage bag and threw it over her shoulder. She smiled as an idea struck her. “Faésógha.” The scratchy feeling overtook her chin, just like when Gram had done it at Thanksgiving. She laughed as she imagined what she must look like with the hat and beard and sack. It was a perfect start to a perfect plan.
She trudged back toward the Avian Mastery room, but stopped short when she ran into Helena and Lenore just beyond the Grand Hall. Trevor was notably absent, but then again, all the students should be in class. Of course, the mer literally had nothing to do in mastery class—unless they were seers. And Helena and Lenore were definitely not seers. Thank the fates those two idiots didn’t have that much power.
Helena blinked twice, then a wicked smile crept across her face. “What are you doing out of class, seal killer?” she asked, sneering.
Lenore’s confusion turned comical as her eyes widened. “Oh! Is that Kenzie?”
“Yeah. And it looks like she’s finally flying her freak flag.”
Kenzie smiled, stroking her beard. “I never take it down.”
Helena scowled, but Lenore had to stifle her giggles.
“What’s with the beard and sack?” Helena asked, jutting out her chin. “Trying to hide the evidence?”
“Wanna know what’s inside?” Kenzie lowered the bag to the floor, keeping her eyes on Helena as she slowly reached in. She took her time grabbing a cookie, and nearly lost it as Helena and Lenore began to squirm.
“What the heck, freak?” Lenore asked as she crossed her arms.
“Boo!” Kenzie shouted as she pulled out a couple of baggies.
The mer twins shrieked and jumped back, and Kenzie started laughing. “Your . . . faces!” she managed to squeeze out between breaths.
Helena growled, throwing a kick, but Kenzie saw it coming and moved her bag just in time.
“Come on! It’s for everyone,” Kenzie said as she pulled the bag to her chest. “They’re cookies. Even you two can have some.”
Helena’s eyes narrowed, but as Kenzie extended the cookies she’d pulled out, the mer took them. Helena looked to Lenore, then grinned. Kenzie had a feeling it wasn’t because she was feeling jolly.
“You packaged these while they were still hot, didn’t you?” Helena asked, dangling the bags from two fingers.
Kenzie nodded. “Why?”
Lenore wore the same sly look on her face. “Because this.” She lifted a hand, and the cookie exploded in its bag, leaving red, white, and brown mottled patches against the clear plastic.
Kenzie gasped, taking a step back, but it was too late. She could feel the garbage bag writhe in her arms, pop after pop beating against her chest. Kenzie dropped the bag and stepped away, but it got worse, splats of murdered gingerbread cookies landing on her face and in her beard.
When the carnage finally stopped, Kenzie licked the remains from around her mouth, then narrowed her eyes on Helena and Lenore. “Are you kidding me? You— You— Argh! Faésógha!” Kenzie directed as much magic as she dared at the girls, feeling a small sense of satisfaction as they screeched and clawed at their chins. She shouldn’t be doing this. She soooo shouldn’t be doing this, but these girls had pushed her too far. They were Christmas cookies, for crying out loud! Who destroys someone’s hard work like that? Besides. She could fix it. And she would . . .
Right after she’d had her fill of bearded ladies.
Kenzie pulled her phone out of her back pocket—good thing she actually had it today, and it even had a charge—as Helena and Lenore began demanding she fix them, but it was a deeper voice that stopped her.
“Kenzie? What are you doing?”
Kenzie looked over her shoulder to find Wes standing there, his arms crossed, his gaze hard. Ms. Vex was peeking out of the Were Mastery room down the hall, but she retreated as soon as Kenzie spotted her.
Kenzie wiped off her beard. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, Mr. Telepath?”
Wes growled. “Fix them. Now.” His voice held no room for argument.
So, she did. “Aghídha’glahn,” she said, directing it at herself as well as the girls. There was no point anymore. Her cookies were ruined.
The mer sighed with relief. Helena turned to Wes, pointing at Kenzie. “She started it!”
Wes shook his head. “Let’s just call it a draw. You’re even.” His gaze turned back to Kenzie. “All of you.”
Kenzie grunted, and the mer didn’t look any happier.
“Now, why don’t we all get back to class. Where we’re supposed to be.”
Kenzie had no idea who put Wes in charge, but she didn’t like it. She didn’t need him to fight her battles. She was more than happy to take care of them on her own.
Wes took Kenzie’s arm as the mer sulked back to their class, guiding her toward the nearest Avian Training Room door. “What the heck were you thinking?” he hissed.
“I was defending myself, thank you very much.” Kenzie shook off Wes’s grip, rolling her shoulder. She didn’t want to leave the mess there—her mother had always instilled the need to clean up after herself—but Wes didn’t seem in a very charitable mood.
“Look, Kenzie, I know those girls are jerks, but you can’t use magic on them. Do you want to get thrown out of here?”
Kenzie crossed her arms and shook her head. Her lower lip was pouting of its own accord, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at Wes. She was tempted to zap him with a beard, but decided it would probably make him look better—if that was even possible. Dang shifters and their good looks. But he had a point. She didn’t want to get kicked out. She’d worked too hard to get in.
“But it’s not like I hurt anyone,” she whined. “And they started it. Did you see—?”
“I’m certain they did start it, but you have to be the bigger person, here. You’re the outsider—”
“Hey!”
“—and you have to show them that you’re not the selkie that everyone thinks you are.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shifters don’t trust selkies. We’re traitors. We play both sides. We’re seal killers. I’ve heard it all.”
“It doesn’t help that you went to that vampire school.”
“To save Myreen!”
Wes lifted his hands in a placating manner. “I know. Just . . . try to cut them some slack.”
“Are you seriously taking everyone else’s side? No, correction, not everyone else’s side, the haters’ side.”
Wes’s head rolled to the side as he winced. “I’m not exactly everyone’s favorite mao, either, being that I used to be a hunter. I just think we shouldn’t rock the boat. Or the Dome, as it were.”
Kenzie huffed. They’d stalled outside the Avian Training Room to talk, but she was so over this conversation. “You should get back to class, too.” She pursed her lips, waiting for Wes to acknowledge she was right.
Wes shook the hair out of his eyes and smirked, giving Kenzie a kiss on her forehead before walking off. Her forehead! What was he, her father?
Kenzie wiped it off, just to spite him, marching back into class. Ms. Heather spared Kenzie a glance—which quickly turned to confusion.
Kenzie waved her off. “It’s nothing. I’ll just be getting back to my studies.”
Ms. Heather’s brows rose, but she nodded once at Kenzie, shooting a few more worried glances her way as Kenzie settled in. Stupid mer. Here she was, trying to make Christmas great for everyone, and they just had to ruin things. Well, they’d messed with the wrong girl. If they thought the beard was crazy, they had another thing coming.
Kenz
ie flipped through the pages of the grimoire, trying to control her anger enough not to rip anything. The book was spelled, but that didn’t mean it was indestructible—at least, she didn’t think so, and she certainly wasn’t going to test it.
And then her eyes landed on a helper spell. Kenzie stilled as she scanned the page for anything helpful. It was an older spell, one that, apparently, her ancestors had used to make the rats invading their farm more productive. She could use some helpers for her Christmas plans. The English was ancient, and a little hard to read in that tight script, but she was fairly confident it would do the trick. She just had to figure out how to get the spell to stick to Helena and Lenore.
Kenzie snuck a peek at Ms. Heather, but she was busy instructing one of her students on how to throw feathers at her enemies—it didn’t sound lethal, but it was. She’d seen the slashes they left on targets, how they could bury themselves halfway through a pole before coming to a stop. And harpies were about the most non-lethal shifters in the place. Leya was probably the loudest among them, and even she hated sparring class—even more than Kenzie did on most days. Yeah, Ms. Heather would be busy for a while. It was the perfect opportunity to test her spell.
Kenzie turned her back to the training, hoping to hide whatever movements and words she had to perform to make the magic work. She worked her lips silently through the spell three times, familiarizing herself with the way it felt and moved. Feeling confident, she decided to say it aloud, though she mentally prepared to cancel the spell before she finished. She’d do it for real later, when she could look Helena and Lenore in the eyes while she said the words that would transform them into her little Christmas elves. Kenzie smiled to herself at the thought. Now this was the perfect way to bring magic back into Christmas.