Impossible Magic (3 page)

After everyone is seated, Paige clinks her glass with her fork and stands.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed a new seat filled tonight. May I introduce our newest student, Iris Archer. She had her Awakening yesterday, so do make her feel welcome.”

There is a polite round of applause followed by whispers and I crack a polite smile. I pull at my collar, still getting used to the stiff, unyielding uniform. None of the other witches speak to me during the dinner, striking me as a tight-knit bunch. They are all a year or two younger than me. I’ve been curious all day to what strange food I might be offered, but it ends up being a succulent roast chicken and potatoes, simple but filling.

At the end of the meal, we retire to a separate sitting room. Snow falls outside the darkened windows. I’ve only seen snow a few times before, and I’m mesmerized by its elegant grace. A dowdy girls commandeers the piano and starts to play, missing half of the notes. The others take seats and chat. I’m surprised by the number of guys—I assumed it would be a school for females, since Paige never mentioned warlocks. I feel like assumptions will get me in trouble here.

I sit in a comfortable striped armchair in front of the blazing fire and drop into my thoughts. I’m assuming it will take me a while to get in good with my classmates—I was fairly popular all throughout high school, but I know the ins and outs of the social game. Lately I’ve been depressed, feeling like my life had no meaning, like I had no good direction to go in. Coming here has started to crack the icy armor of apathy I wear.

Two girls sit down on a loveseat across from me. One is a redhead with her frizzy hair in a French braid, the other a striking girl with dark skin and short, stylish hair swooped to the side. “I’m Melody and this is Astrid,” the redhead says.

“I’m Iris.”

“Yeah, we know,” Melody says, a small, phony smile appearing on her lips. “We were surprised that you were in level two with us. Practically everyone starts from the ground up.”

“I have no idea, it’s what Paige assigned me to.” I’m starting to get irritated that my qualifications keep coming up.

“Did you know that you were a witch before your Awakening?” asks Astrid quietly. I glance at her and notice that she’s missing her left hand. Colorful tattoo sleeves of blooming flowers run up to her biceps.

“No, I had no idea,” I say. “The magic just…came out of me, and then Paige showed up. I’m glad she did, I thought I was going crazy.”

“That’s really strange,” Melody says, rubbing her hand over the cloud of freckles on her nose. “That you didn’t know, I mean.”

“Yeah, I still can’t believe this is all happening,” I admit. “Yesterday my world was falling apart. Then I find out there’s this whole new world to replace it.”

Melody scowls in the direction of the piano as the girl playing misses more notes. Paige whispers in the fumbling girl’s ear and she stands up. The group of wardens that I saw earlier comes over Paige and they fall into a discussion.

“Are all the wardens male?” I ask.

“Yes,” Astrid answers quietly.

“Isn’t that a little sexist?”

Melody shrugs. “Blame it on the Headmistress, she’s the one who set it up that way. I think she just enjoys having all the hot guys do her bidding. I don’t mind, all the mouth-breathers in our level only want hand jobs and a girl they can fold up in a closet. Dating in the open is pretty forbidden, anyway. She thinks it’s a distraction.”

“So nobody dates?”

“Not during the school year, not officially. Doesn’t stop us from getting busy,” Melody says, smirking. “Just means we have to be discreet about it. You’ll grow to despise her soon, like the rest of us.”

“Paige seemed kind to me,” I protest gently.

“Oh, she’s nice. She also loves to micromanage every aspect of our lives, along with her guard dog over there.”

She points at Luke, and I watch him out of the corner of my eye. All through dinner, my eyes kept being drawn to him. He glances at our group and I feel my insides quiver as I look away.

Melody continues to stare at him and crosses her legs. “Luke is hot, but he’s a goddamn jerk. Watch yourself around him. He ratted me out yesterday for not putting away my magic tools in the proper order. He’s got a stick up his ass for no reason.” He leans in and converses intimately with Paige, and she smiles and gestures with her hands. I study him for a moment, his sculpted cheekbones and confident expression. He’s definitely aware of how gorgeous he is.

“He does look pretty arrogant.”

“Understatement of the year,” she grumbles as she slouches down. She tears up splinters sticking out of the couch and tosses them in the crackling fireplace.

“The wardens are graduates of the college,” Astrid explains. “No idea why they would want to stay here. We’re practically prisoners.”

I glance out at the lazy, beautiful snow. At the moment, I don’t mind being trapped.

________________________

“Reach inside yourself for the power, but don’t unleash it recklessly. Guide it through your hands, shape it,” my spellcraft Professor, Mrs. Drake, instructs me, moving her hands as if around an invisible sphere. It’s Wednesday, and so far I’ve taken quickly to my magic classes. Something about the power I feel—it makes me feel like I’m making up for the humiliation I felt when I walked in on Kate and Braden.

I’m supposed to be levitating the spoon in front of me. A group of my classmates stand by and watch. I narrow my eyes and concentrate on the spoon, and as though reaching out with an invisible hand, I lift it easily into the air.

“Well done,” Ms. Drake says at my ear. “The Headmistress was wise to advance you.”

I smile in response, feeling a little giddy. I admit that I’m letting the magic go to my head, but what can it hurt? I step back next to Astrid as the guy behind me takes his turn.

“It only gets harder from here,” she warns me. “Don’t get too caught up in the first few lessons.”

“Oh, I’m sure. I just didn’t realize this was going to be so easy, and fun,” I whisper back.

She stares at me flatly, crossing her arms. “It’s not meant to be fun. It’s a serious art.”

“There’s no reason I can’t play around a
little,
right?”

Juniper really beats sitting around a lecture hall, listening to a Professor drone to the background of laptop keyboards clicking away. We continue on to divination class, where we try to read each other’s fates in tarot cards.

I’m not used to feeling unpopular, as I spent most of my high school years with lots of friends. But my icy social greeting has not thawed, and the only ones willing to speak to me are Astrid and Melody.

Luke must be competing for warden of the year, because I see him hovering every time I’m out in the hall. He’s constantly watching over our group—and I catch those burning, intense eyes following me. I keep peeking over at him through my lashes, then hate myself for doing it. The last thing I need is an interest in a new guy when I’m just getting over Braden punching a hole in my heart. I doubt someone as conceited as Luke would ever be interested in the likes of me.

Friday arrives, and in elemental magic, I’m supposed to demonstrate my fire power. Since I’ve practiced using it to light my fireplace every night, I feel fully prepared. The Professor positions me at the head of the class and instructs me to set a bunch of sticks on fire in an open pit. I picture Braden’s face among the sticks, and my fingers ignite painlessly. The orange flames shoot out and consume the wood.

I feel a proud grin on my face, but when I look around, the others are eying me with annoyance. They are all clustered together, and I know I need to get used to being an outsider.

CHAPTER 5

On Friday, in my morning class of magical artifacts, I peruse the display tables while waiting for the Professor. There are carved wands and figurines and many rough-cut gemstones with labels declaring their spell uses and effects.

Two guys flank me, moving in uncomfortably close. I know them vaguely as John and Tim, but I don’t remember which is which.

“Are you enjoying your first week at Juniper?” the one on the right with a buzzcut purrs in my ear. I shrink back and step aside. I have no interest in enduring their feeble intimidation attempt.

“You’ve been kicking ass so far, haven’t you? Don’t want that power to go to your head,” the other boy, with a line of rings through his eyebrow, says.

“I’m not worried about that.”

“You know, we could have some fun,” the one with the buzzcut says, sidling up to me again. He slides his meaty hand around my hip and tugs me close. I push him away, disgusted.

“You don’t have to be a bitch about it,” he complains.

I see red, and in an uncontrollable burst, a rush of heat explodes out of my head. It jostles the light fixture as I glance up, and the rope that holds it starts to spin and fray. I’m paralyzed and woozy, still affected by the strong magic.

Strong arms wrap tightly around my midsection and pull me away. The light fixture crashes down where I was standing seconds ago, a twisted mass of sharp metal. I look up and see Luke’s arrestingly beautiful face. Neither of us moves as we stare into each other’s eyes, my breath trapped in my lungs. I faintly hear the laughter of my classmates, but I’m lost in the depths of his dark eyes. His full lips part, then settle into a petulant frown.

“Are you always so irresponsible?” he asks coldly.

Irritation washes over me. What is his deal? “It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to conjure anything.”

His arms are still wrapped protectively around me, so I wriggle my hips and he breaks his grasp. He straightens his crooked tie. “Be more careful,” he admonishes. “Magic isn’t a joke or a toy.” His posture is tight and his broad shoulders are rigid beneath his uniform.

“Why don’t you tell that to those creeps over there?” I hiss, bobbing my head in the direction of Tim and John, whose heads are bent in an artificially engrossing conversation.

Luke’s eyes narrow, and I feel tingles simmer underneath my skin. Why does he have to be so attractive? His personality certainly isn’t. He strides past me and back into the hallway as the Professor arrives. The chip on his shoulder must be so heavy, I’m surprised he doesn’t collapse.

________________________

“I think today is bad luck for me. I would have guessed it was Friday the thirteenth,” I complain to Astrid on the way to spellcraft. Astrid is the only nice student I’ve met so far.

“I have something that could help you with that.” She holds up her hand and with her thumb, pulls a ring off of her pinkie finger. It’s silver, but when she holds it up, I see that the inside is lined with black, gleaming opal. She hands it to me. A five-leaf clover is stamped onto the silver side.

“Take this,” she insists. “It’s a good luck charm.”

“That’s sweet of you,” I say, “But I couldn’t accept it, it looks expensive.” I try to hand it back.

“I insist. It didn’t cost much; I bought it at a fair last year. It’s helped me a little, even if it’s just mental.” She takes the ring and slides it on to my left ring finger, like an engagement ring. “You have to wear it on this finger, so that it will connect with the vein of the heart.”

I’m touched. “Thanks.” I look at the lovely ring against my skin. It’s a perfect fit. “If four-leaf-clovers are good luck, this must be great luck.”

She smiles at me. “That’s the idea.”

________________________

My final class is Necromancy, the one I’ve been most interested in. I’ve never had it before. We file into a leaky greenhouse as pallid sunlight filters through the foggy panes of glass that make up the ceiling. The supports are wrought iron, and a few of the glass panes are cracked, with dried ivy tendrils poking through. Most of the house seems so well kept and taken care of, but this place is gloomy, with a dusting of dirt on the floor. I hug my arms against the persistent chill invading my skin. Tables of pots and pans line the room, some with exotic plants in stages of bloom and some empty.

To my surprise, Luke slides into the greenhouse and heads to the front of the class. He adjusts the lenses on a collection of microscopes, then sets them on a side table beneath a venus flytrap.

“What is he doing here?” I ask Melody beside me.

“Luke teaches Necromancy,” she explains.

“I wouldn’t have thought somebody so stuck-up would have an affinity for the dark arts.”

Melody shrugs. “Just watch him. It’s the only thing he does well. Plus it’s kind of hot in a Criss Angel kind of way.”

We cluster around a table near the front, with five pots of wilted plants lined up on them. Luke pays no attention to me as he addresses us, but I still feel tense.

“Necromancy is a rare specialty,” he begins, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward. “Anyone can kill anything with the right weapon, but only a skilled necromancer can bring someone back. Most necromancers show Proficiency in the skill early on, and I know a few of you here fit the bill. However, with enough practice, any of you can revive dead plants and small animals.”

He strips off his suit-jacket and hangs it over the back of a nearby chair. Underneath his crisp button down I can make out the strong form of his lean, muscular body. I blink rapidly, glad he’s not aware that I’m thinking about him like this.