Page 17 of The Holy Academy of Witches

“Stop struggling,”a voice sounded in my mind.

He was going the wrong way! It was getting darker, I couldn’t see. Was he drowning me?

My thoughts faded as I focused on the darkness, it seemed different than before. Friendly, welcoming.

“Don’t. Die. Damn. You. Don’t. Die.” Each word punctuated a hit to the chest, and the darkness disappeared.

I was going to be sick. Sitting up, I began to vomit water… Right onto the idiot who had scared me overboard.

He looked at his already sopping shirt, the water vomit indistinguishable from the other lake water, before looking back at me.

“So… Trespasser,” he panted, “looks like you’ll live.” He stood and stared down at me, as if challenging me to prove him wrong.

“Yeah… Umm, thanks?” I grabbed my throat in pain. Trying to stand was probably unwise so I continued to stare up at him.

He looked familiar, like a dream. His light blue eyes bore into mine as I scrambled for the memory of him.

“Oh… You’re Marsha’s.” I mumbled softly as I remembered the picture she had shown me. Still, I winced.

He raised a brow, “Marsha Nobler?”

Nodding, I pointed to my throat in case he didn’t know it hurt.

Rolling his eyes, he knelt back down in front of me, wrapping his strong, aristocratic hands around my neck, before letting his magic sink in to coat my throat. When he withdrew, there was a cooling sensation left in place and I was able to swallow without pain…

“Thanks… Cillian, right?” I said, as he leaned back onto his heels.

“Wrong.”

“Huh?”

“You’re sayingSillian, it’s pronouncedKillian.”

“Oh… right. Sorry, Cillian.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah I am.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “Just like that? An apology?”

“Why? Did you want me to fight you for mispronouncing your name?”

“Oh, just sorry about the name then? Not the trespassing or anything else?”

“Umm well, all of it but the trespassing I guess.” I said, my teeth chattering as I looked at the vomit on his expensive shoes.

“You don’t get enough of your brother at home, you have to threaten his position here for visits?”

“How’d you know he was my brother?”

“You’re both American, same colouring, breaking the rules in the most obvious place… It would only strain the incompetent to make that conclusion.”

“Oh,” was all I could think to say.

He began walking away before turning back to look at me, “do you need a reminder of which boat is yours or can I trust you to find your way back?”

“I’m not stupid.”

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