Page 2 of The Witch & the Wolf

The blue guiding trail led her to her first class of the day, Magic Studies. She shuffled in along with other new students who were also following their trails. Dreadmor’s minimum age was twenty, so all of the students here were of that age or older. The laws of the academy dictated this age requirement because it was only after the age of twenty that most students’ powers manifested.

Holly picked a desk close to the front. She didn’t want to be a lurker, sitting in the back, and as she was fairly short, she didn’t want someone tall potentially blocking her view. Some students chatted with one another. Holly guessed they either knew each other from home or summer camp or had just met and made friends instantly. A few, like Holly, sat quietly, not engaging, perhaps being a little nervous about proving themselves.

The weight of the school’s reputation rested uneasily on their shoulders. It meant something to be here. There was plenty to take in, from the old, grand statues, the paintings, and the faintly shimmering magical artifacts to a group of black silhouettes that marched across the white walls, animated by some long-ago student’s or teacher’s magic.

Holly watched the wandering silhouettes, which resembled a group of children going off on an adventure in some distant field perhaps. She chewed absently on her lip. There were a lot of strange kinds of magic in this place, and she worried that her own powers paled in comparison to everyone else’s.

A student shuffled in and took the desk right next to hers. She glanced surreptitiously at the newcomer, and she was shocked to see a werewolf. An actual werewolf, in werewolf form, sitting there calmly at the next desk.

Weren’t there pills they could take not to transform? Why the heck was he or she sitting there? Were they dangerous?

The silvery werewolf turned their gaze to her as if in a challenge. She didn’t look away because it would be too obvious. But not looking created a somewhat awkward moment. Still, she owned it. When they broke eye contact first, she felt a tiny surge of triumph.

She listened carefully to the hushed voices in the classroom and caught snippets of conversations about moving in and this year’s summer camp. It seemed like nearly a quarter of the class had gone to camp. The most talk involved a blonde woman, a dark-haired woman with a big smile, and a dour-looking woman who wore her unhappiness like a suit of armor.

“Come on, Harrow, Kati, tell us more. Something really big went down, right? We already knew about the storm, the weird stuff happening in the woods…”

“NDA,” one replied. Harrow, maybe? “We all had to sign one.” She didn’t sound exactly pleased to have done it or pleased to talk about it. It was hard to tell which. The smiling woman covered her mouth.

“Yeah, we had to sign it. Lujan, as well. He was there with me.” Her gaze turned to a yellow-eyed student who seemed quite content just to look at her with that annoying, lovestruck expression that Holly had seen in so many people in high school. But a part of her was slightly envious that she didn’t yet have someone who’d stare at her that way.

“We won’t tell!”

Harrow shook her head, gesturing for the questioners to drop it. One of the women sighed but changed the subject to something else – the werewolf in the room, who sat rigid as a stone, unbothered by the voices around him. Holly wondered if he was used to this kind of attention, maybe even liked it.

When the professor entered the classroom, conversation ceased as all eyes instead turned to her, an older woman whose name, according to what she’d written on the chalkboard, was Z’Hana.

Then, she turned to address the students. “This is how I’d like you to refer to me,” she said, gesturing to the chalkboard. “Some of you I have already had the pleasure to meet in summer camp; others of you are new students whom I hope to get to know in the next four years.” Z’Hana smiled. “All of you have wonderfully varied magical talents, and all of you will be allowed to develop them to your highest potential. Most of this class will concern reading past studies and researching your own powers. We will also study general magical theories as a group, and you will each receive tailored instruction, depending on your power.”

A few students nodded, and Holly breathed a small sigh of relief. This individualized approach sounded good to her because it hopefully meant no awkward group projects where people showed off their abilities to levitate pencils or something while she simply sat there and smiled.

Z’Hana continued. “For the first lesson, we will get to know one another with some small team-building exercises. Some of you have come from far away, some come from prestigious families…” Her eyes lingered on the werewolf. “Others of you have just discovered your powers or lineage. Whatever your background and experience with magic, you are all welcome here, and you all will have a chance to prove yourselves.”

She called the role, and thankfully, Z’Hana didn’t ask anyone to talk about themselves. She just made sure to pronounce each name clearly. The gossiping students turned out to be named Ekaterina, Harrow, and Chloe. Other names were called, but Holly didn’t catch them – aside from the name of the werewolf sitting next to her: Arlo Sixclaw.

“Here,” the werewolf responded politely but formally in a deep, clear voice.

“Good to have you.” Z’Hana smiled at him before moving on to the next name.

“Sixclaw?” someone whispered. “Aren’t they assholes?”

“They’re rich as hell,” someone else whispered. “Surprised he’s not at Archon. All the rich ones go there.”

“Quiet, please,” Z’Hana said, and the murmurings stopped. The class settled down, and Holly tried to ignore that sense of being an outsider, of not really belonging here, of being excluded. It was not exactly an unfamiliar sensation.

“Let’s sort you into pairs for now,” Z’Hana said, “and you’ll each have to ask the other three basic questions.”

Holly watched in bemusement as Z’Hana wrote the questions on the board. The puzzled frown remained even as she caught the werewolf, Arlo, with a similar expression on his face. This was not how she’d pictured her first class would go. It sounded less like something she’d be required to do at a prestigious academic institution and more like a fun summer camp exercise.

By proximity, Arlo and Holly ended up being paired together. “This is stupid,” the werewolf muttered. “I wanted to be learning.”

“And there will be plenty of time for that,” Z’Hana said, zeroing in on Arlo, who hadn’t meant his words to be overheard. “Think of this as a simple introduction to the class to help you settle in before the learning begins.”

The werewolf nodded, embarrassed, and was quiet after that.

In a bored voice, Holly asked Arlo the first question. “What brings you to Dreadmor Academy? What do you hope to achieve?”

“Well,” Arlo replied, in an equally bored voice, “I hope to achieve greatness.” He said nothing else. After an awkward pause, he asked Holly the same question.

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