Page 39 of The Holy Academy of Witches

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After a whirlwind of classes and tutoring, I leaned against a tree at the respective meeting place, dressed in textured jeans and my favourite dark brown leather coat. I smiled as I circled the handful of inaccuracies on Cillian’s map, adding my own notes with a smug satisfaction.

The crunch of leaves signalled his arrival, and by the time I’d turned he was leaning against a tree, breathing easily as if he’d been there the whole time. Crumpling his map, I lobbed it at him as hard as I could. He caught it and slipped it into his dark wool overcoat, which was impossibly free of leaves or dirt. He spoke, interrupting my thoughts, “what did you say?” I asked.

“Adeline knows.”

“Knows what?” My heart pounded, “how?!” I started thinking back to our interactions, she hadn’t ever breached my mind, had she been able to get through Cillian’s?

“She followed us and saw us talking, she didn’t say how much she heard. I just thought you’d like to know.”

“You had me hike like a million miles to tell me that Adeline knows something… but you don’t know what?”

“I didn’t specify hiking, you’re a Witch, a recently wealthy one, you could have used any manner of ways to get here.” He’d done some of his research after all. But I didn’t want the family money, didn’t want anything that had to do with my Uncle’s death. Just another tragedy I was helpless to predict, or prevent.

“So what’s so special about this spot?” I asked, turning off that line of thought by peering at the woods around us, as if there would be something carved onto one of the many trunks but all I heard was the rush of the nearby stream he’d forgotten to note in his map.

“I know this location is secure.”

“And the previous location wasn’t?” I asked in alarm.

“Not from her… I don’t like lying to her, Sage.”

“Ah. So she hasn’t been here before?”

“No. I think you’ll find Adeline doesn’t like the deeper woods very much.”

“Too dirty?”

“Something like that…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged looking down at his watch, “I have to go now.”

“I just got here!” I exclaimed.

“So stay then!” He replied over his shoulder, walking in the opposite direction of the school. I frowned at his retreating back.

Turning back the way I came, I convinced myself it wasn’t my business or my problem. I chanted that in my head over and over until a sharp pain shot up my wrist.

Gasping, I looked down at the mark. The concealment charm had dissolved to show the mark glowing red hot like a brand. Cillian was in danger? I scrambled to harness a vision, anything that would tell me more, cursing that I hadn’t kept his map as a connection. With the little training I had, I grabbed my wrist and threw my psyche down the bond, hoping my magic would understand my intent without a ritual or spell. A neon sign shone through the dusty window of a small building. A wall of cars were blocking any other light that might have otherwise escaped. I didn’t have time to look for a street sign before I felt my body’s connection to the vision begin to fray. Pulling myself out, I clung to the things that made me myself, my loved ones names, my favourite songs. I was finishing up the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody when I opened my eyes.

The pain of the brand hit me again, stronger than before. Crying out, I braced myself against a tree, breathing deeply. I settled my psyche firmly within myself, I was not without my own power, it seemed it was time to prove it.

I rummaged through my bag, hoping I had not removed the campus map. The flash of empty wrappers and empty glass bottles had my anxiety bursting through the roof. Closing my eyes I buried my arm into the chaos I couldn’t seem to control until my fingers brushed the familiar thick parchment tingling with magic, there. Opening it, I fed it a bit of my barely replenished magic. The map zoomed out, showing my location in reference to our schools borders. I was only a short run from the anti-apparition borders. I had a solid enough visual, despite my limited practice that I should be able to apparate without issue.

Taking a deep breath, I ran. I kept going until I reached the iridescent film that marked the boundary. It pressed against my skin like oil. I continued forward, ignoring the awful feeling of the memory wards seeking for my magic. Taking a breath, I imagined the bar I’d seen in my vision. Smearing my finger across my skin, I was relieved to find no trace of the boundary was left behind. I had just enough magic for a quick diversion to get him out of whatever trouble he’d landed himself into and then we’d have to hope his reserves would be enough to get us both out. The alternative of dipping into some light or dark magic was still unthinkable. I shuddered, the press of memories sending a shot of pain through my mind. However, it was the only pain I felt. Looking down at my wrist, the brand had died down to resemble a flickering ember, perhaps sensing I was close enough to help now? Surely not something worse, something I’d rather not imagine. Another failure to add to my growing list.

Walking up to the window, I peered in. There was a sizeable crowd, mostly women, on the dance floor facing a small stage where a band was performing. Men of all sizes lined the walls and bar, all deep in discussion with one another with the occasional nod to the stage. I couldn’t see Cillian though, his all black uniform should have stood out like a sore thumb among the colourful tees and jeans. Was he still here? I looked again, but the grimy window pane obscured too much. There went my chance at espionage.

The aromas of greasy food and spilled beer met me at the door. I eagerly walked into the comfortable atmosphere, openly inspecting faces as if trying to find an expected friend while I approached the bar. There wasn’t any sign of his stupidly arrogant face by the time I claimed a seat in the wait to place an order. The girls on the dance floor started screaming as a new set of chords filled the air. I felt the subtle pull of an enchantment as I looked toward the stage. My jaw dropped. There, on the stage, was a shirtless Cillian, the bass’s strap the only bit of fabric across a bare chest that was impossibly, intricately tattooed. His eyes were lined with black and his usually perfectly styled hair was now masterfully mussed. The lead guitarist went into a flashy string of chords, perhaps to win back some of the attention that was currently focused on the bassist, who was the undisputed star of the show. The bartender cleared his throat and I whirled, placing an order for a drink and some of the wings I saw littering the bar before turning back toward the stage.

His music was a lifeline that tied every other element together… the lighthouse in a storm, and as I felt the whisper of his magic against my skin I was tempted to join the others on the dance floor. Breaking free of the siren call he was undeniably weaving, I glanced around the room, looking for the danger that had spurred me here. There was nothing. With a frown I realised the pain had also disappeared. Perhaps he’d already dealt with the threat and I had gotten here too late? Looking at the largest of the men I saw no obvious injuries, no bleeding knuckles either. Looking back to Cillian with a clinical eye, I saw no evidence of harm to him either, I double checked, triple checked but found only more tattoo’s I wanted to trace.

The wings landing near me jarred me out of my trance. Damn this music. It should be illegal to perform, but that would be impossible to monitor or enforce. Practising the music and magic we’d learned was encouraged even, so long as he didn’t cross the lines of consent, or bring undue attention to our existence, he was free to practise and play publicly just like everyone else. Still, I should probably leave before he spotted me. Digging into the wings, I swore I’d leave after getting my money’s worth, after all I needed to replenish my magic to apparate back to the outskirts of the Academy.

After another plate of wings and fries, and a Rum & Coke with extra cherries, I was feeling much more myself. Cillian’s band had played throughout and seemed to be on their last set. I would definitely have time to leave before he saw me, but I had also just seen they served milkshakes and the double chocolate swirl was calling my name. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the magic I’d cast to get here, or the stupidly good music that kept swirling around me, or the food that kept coming, but this place had me smiling wider than I had since that day on the lake with Theo. He’d love it here, he was a much better drummer than the guy they had up there and I knew for a fact that if I could ever find a way to perform without glowing like a glow-stick I’d kick their lead singer’s ass, although I definitely could not play guitar. Red and pink blurred my eyesight as I was sprung to a vision of Adeline patiently teaching me how to transfer chords from the piano to an old guitar as we sat in a tent. I came out of the vision with a snort, why would I want to do that?

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