Page 2 of Forbidden Magic
I wrinkle my nose in atonement. “Sorry.”
He pats my back. “You’re going to do great. I bet your sister is beside herself with excitement.”
My sister Allie left three months ago for Dark Falls, the most prestigious Academy of the three realms.
We both finished high school one year early, but I had to wait for my eighteenth birthday to start my supernatural education, and I’ve been counting the days—like literally tearing one day at a time off my calendar.
Allie and I were born three months apart. We’re half-sisters, and while we feigned to be twins in the human world to avoid delicate conversations about how my Dad fathered two daughters so quickly, we’re both well-aware that it won’t be easy to avoid gossip in our new school. Dad represents the witches’ and warlocks’ interests on the High-Council, the highest echelon of the supernatural government. When he disappeared for a year and came back with an infant girl in tow, it made the Witch’s Tattletales front page. Allie’s mom, a witch socialite, left him with his shame and two little girls to raise. Allie and I both made our peace with it and love each other like sisters should, but some of Dad’s political adversaries are still using it in their campaigns against him.
Three months without Allie crushed my spirit. Being the one left behind royally sucked, but soon, everything will be right again.
There are no proper years at Dark Falls. Since so many students have different powers and limitations, everyone studies at his or her own pace until they’re done with the mandatory curriculum and have enough credits to graduate. If your grades are not up to par, you get the boot. Since Allie only has three months on me, I figure we’ll have many classes together. I took her advice and registered for five classes during my first quarter. I’m taking the three main subjects, Spells and Sorcery, Herbology, and History of Magic along with Divination—I’ve had a knack for accurately forecasting the weather ever since I was little—and Duel. Allie tried to talk me out of that one, but I don’t want to waste any time. The human world doesn’t allow for a lot of stray fire balls, so I need to practice my skills in a safe-ish environment.
“Are you leaving for Romania soon?” I ask dad, funneling a chunk of pancake in my mouth.
“Tomorrow, but don’t worry, I’ll drop in on you girls at Christmas.”
“Don’t let them overwork you. And eat well, not just feasts and hotel junk,” I say with my drill sergeant voice.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He salutes me and wipes a few crumbs off the table. “Now, let your Dad impart a bit of his elderly wisdom.”
I dump half a pint of milk in my big glass. “I’m all ears.”
He’s got that serious look on his face, the same one he had when he told me about boys and babies, and my cheeks immediately flare with heat.
“Dark Falls Academy is the best sorcery school in the realms for a reason. It represents our world the best. Thanks to years of hard work, there is no more elitist segregation, and all species have to live and grow together. Now, it doesn’t mean everything is perfect, but it’s an important step in keeping the harmony between all supernatural factions.”
I raise a brow. “But?”
“Most of the students went to Dark Falls Preparatory school. They have known each other for years and are used to mingling with other species. I fear I’m sending you girls off to a den of gnolls.” He plays nervously with his cape, the red fabric rippling behind him.
My fork hangs in mid-air, the last of the pancake turning sour on my tongue. “Are you afraid I’ll put my foot in my mouth and embarrass you?”
A stern scowl drags down his features. “I’m worried you’ll barrel ahead with no concern for your safety. Some students have insidious powers, and half their parents are unscrupulous politicians. I want you to think carefully about which relationships you’ll nurture.” He rubs the arch of his brow. “Vampires got a bad rep. They’re not as bloodthirsty as everyone thinks. Shifters share some qualities with their animal-self, so be wary of felines.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
His fist clenches. “Faes are the worst. Never make a deal with a Fae; you’ll end up on your knees begging for your life. And never cross a mermaid. The ocean would never be safe for you again.”
I nod in reassurance. “Don’t trust Faes and play nice with the mermaids. Got it.”
A dark cloud still hovers over his head. “And Munchkin? Don’t lose yourself in the magic. Power is enticing, but it’s a double-edged sword. The more power you have, the more people will want something from you. Don’t play a game you know you can’t win. We’re writing history here, but sometimes, history repeats itself.”
He’s referring to the fact that mortals used to frequent the school. Dad was admitted in the 50s because my grandfather was a revered Magus—this realm’s version of an Avenger but with more dark magic and less colorful uniforms. About a year after Dad graduated, all the mortals at the academy died in their sleep. The culprit was never caught. The investigation made it look as though the students were at fault for dying. How dare they soil such sacred grounds with their blood? The immortals tasked with the case brushed it off as a freak accident, and since then, mortals had been forbidden entry. Dad had tried to re-open the case when he’d gotten his job on the high council, but by then, the leads had withered.
“I’ll be careful, Dad. I promise.”
His thumb grazes my cheek. “You’re looking more and more like your mother, you know that?” He clears his throat and avoids my inquisitive stare. He never talks about her. Never. I’ve learned to accept it. Why is he talking about her now? My mother was human. She never went to any supernatural academy, and she was too poor to go to college.
“What has my mother got to do with school?” I ask.
Deep lines appear at the corners of his eyes which glaze over for a moment like he’s not seeing me, but someone else. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But seeing you grow up… it makes an old man reminisce.” He claps his hands once, the motion almost covering up his deep sigh. “Now, let’s get your stuff in the car.”
3
The Dotted Line
“Name?” A petite sprite asks from the main desk, her skin shimmering with deep teal and midnight-blue tints. Her big eyes are coated in pixie dust, the luminous powder lighting her face beautifully. She’s four feet tall max, but the stool she’s sitting on puts us at eye-level. I’m not used to seeing Fairy folk, but I’ve seen sprites and pixies when Dad took me into work.
