Demon of Dreams (Vesperwood Academy: Incubus #1)

9. Cory

9

CORY

A fter Spellwork II, I followed Ash and Felix to our next class, Environmental Magic: Theory and Practice, taught by an imposing and theatrical man named Professor Gallo. He wore a green cloak, and made me introduce myself after the bell finished booming again.

Then he began pontificating on the pointlessness of allowing students to begin studying at Vesperwood mid-year, which made me feel even worse.

“You’ve no foundation upon which to build! This may be everyone’s first experience with the life-sustaining study of our magical environs, but how can you be expected to understand what I teach when you’ve missed the most basic foundations of magic covered in the first semester? How can you be expected to apply any of the valuable knowledge I impart in this course when you’ve missed the bedrock principles?”

I wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question or not, so I settled for a concerned look and a nod that I hoped conveyed that I shared his deep misgivings on this matter.

“You, young man, have a lot of catching up to do,” he intoned.

He seemed to want me to respond, so I offered a hesitant, “I’ll do my best.”

That only made his face sour. “Let’s hope that you do,” he said, before turning away and scrawling a list on the blackboard entitled, ‘ The Elementals .’ No fancy, levitating chalk for him.

“Now, you all likely endured some reductionist, materialistic ‘ chemistry ’ class in your secondary education,” he said when he was done writing. You could hear the air quotes around the word ‘ chemistry .’ “Mundane ‘ scientists ’ professing to be able to explain the world with their little graphs and equations.” He cut his hand through the air suddenly in a slicing gesture. “Let! That! All! Go!”

He glared around the room imperiously, as if expecting some sort of reaction. A dramatic, “No, not my periodic table!” or wringing of hands over our attachment to Mole Day. Everyone just stared back at him blankly. After an awkward fifteen seconds of silence, he evidently decided we were sufficiently impressed and began speaking again, pacing back and forth in front of the board.

“Helium and hydrogen are all very well for those who traffic in the petty concerns of men, but you are witches , and witches know a deeper truth.” He flung his hand towards the list on the board, which read, ‘ Earth, Air, Fire, Water .’ “These are the elements of the ancient Greeks, and they are the only ones you need commit yourself to studying.”

Two hands shot up in the rows of desks: one belonging to Rekha, the other to the woman who’d sat next to me in Spellwork II. Her hair was plaited in two tight French braids that marched down the sides of her head. Professor Gallo glared at both women. I got the sense he didn’t like to be interrupted. When neither of them put their hands down, he called on the woman with the braids.

“Yes, Erika?” he said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Didn’t the ancient Greeks also use the concept of aether as a fifth element—or, rather, a first? Aristotle’s On the Heavens discusses aether as the first element, differing from the classical elements in both placement and quality.”

“Quite right, Ms. Martinez,” Gallo said, giving Erika an indulgent smile. Rekha glared at her, probably angry Erika had been called on first. “However,” Gallo continued, “as you noted, aether was traditionally thought of as a celestial element, not a terrestrial one, and studies of the celestial environment are reserved for students accepted into Harvest Haven who are completing their advanced studies. Thus, for the purposes of our course this semester, you need not concern yourself with matters too elevated for your comprehension.”

It was Erika’s turn to glare now, though she turned it down on her notebook, rather than fixing it on Gallo himself. I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t know anything about what was being discussed, but even I would have been annoyed by that amount of condescension.

Rekha’s hand shot up again, and Gallo favored her with an even longer sigh before finally waving at her in frustration. “Yes, Ms. Bakshi?”

“Why are we using the ancient Greeks’ framework anyway?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Other cultures divided their traditional elements differently, or included ones the Greeks omitted. Chinese Wuxing includes earth, wood, and metal, and lacks air entirely, in addition to focusing more on—”

“Thank you for sharing your thoughts, my dear,” Gallo said, cutting her off. “They were most…passionate. But in this course, cool wisdom must preside. Primitive cultures around the world have had countless systems of division and classification to describe the world around them, but we are not interested in mere cultures , but rather, civilizations . Western civilization is what conquered the globe, no matter how much some might wish to claim otherwise. Western civilization begins with the Greeks, and thus we shall as well. Is that understood?”

His gaze roved the room, looking for opposition. Rekha muttered something under her breath, and Erika looked mutinous, but no one spoke loudly enough to draw his attention.

He smiled. “Now, as I was saying, the study of the magical underpinnings of our natural environment requires not just a cool head, not just wisdom, but a delicacy of investigation, precision and intricate control, that most witches are unable to reach. Harvest accepts only the best, for the best is what is required to appreciate the deep, slow movements of the earth, the ever-flowing transitions of water…” He paused, his gaze sweeping the class again. “Why aren’t you writing? You may never be able to master the spellwork of an advanced Harvester, but you are expected to understand the fundamentals. Now, where was I…”

Felix, and most of the rest of the class, jumped to comply, furiously scribbling as Gallo droned on. Ash continued to take no notes at all.

I leaned over to him and whispered, “If this class is about magic and the natural environment, wouldn’t you want to know how different places around the world classified it?”

“You simply prove my point, boy,” Gallo said, swooping in out of nowhere. He gave me a frosty look. “If you had gone through your first semester of studies, you might at least know better than to question the wisdom of your elders. Instead, I am left to break you in like some common schoolmaster. It’s hopeless!”

“Right.” I swallowed. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t a fan of the phrase ‘ break you in .’ Not in this context. Not in any.

He stared at me for almost a minute before deciding I was penitent enough to move on. “Well, as I said, you have your work cut out for you.”

He turned away again, his large, green cloak billowing out behind him.

“So Gallo’s kind of an ass, isn’t he?” I said to Ash and Felix after class was over. I waited until we were two hallways away, not wanting to be overheard again.

“Oh, you noticed?” Ash said wryly.

“He’s a strong personality,” Felix said. “You have to filter the good from the bad.”

“Is there much good in anything he said?” I asked. I’d taken notes, but it had been hard to keep my frustration in check. He was just so pompous, and racist too. Not the same kind of asshole as my dad, but an asshole nonetheless. “Why does the school keep him around?”

“Unfortunately, he’s a very gifted witch, especially when it comes to weather spells,” Felix said. “But he trained back in Europe, at one of the stuffier universities over there, and he brought a lot of that attitude with him.”

“It’s a wonder anybody still applies to Harvest, after the first impression he gives,” Ash said.

Felix nodded. “Lucky for them, he’s not the only professor in that haven. But you’d think they’d move him off the intro courses and stick him with the upperclassmen.”

“Does he always wear that cloak?” I asked, picturing the professor in my mind.

No one else at Vesperwood had worn anything remotely magical-looking, or even old-timey. Except, perhaps, Dean Mansur. But there, I wasn’t sure if his suit looked old-timey, or if it was the man himself who seemed imported from another century.

“Yes,” Ash said with a laugh, “and it’s hilarious. He claims he wears it because it has lots of pockets, but I’ve seen him posing in front of mirrors with it, trying out different swirls. And God help you if you suggest that modern dress might offer similar solutions. I asked him his opinion on cargo pants once and got a fifteen-minute rant on the offenses of modern fashion.” He snorted. “If he weren’t such a good Harvester, I think the dean would have fired him a while ago.”

Something about the way Gallo and Ash talked made the capital ‘ H ’ in that word apparent. I’d heard it when Felix had called himself a Historian this morning too. I wanted to ask about that, but Ash was already bickering with Felix about the number of pockets cargo pants had, and I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

We had lunch after Environmental Magic. Felix and Ash led me to the refectory, a long hall in Vesperwood’s lowest level. It had vaulted ceilings, white plaster walls, and high, arched windows lined with bricks. Brick pillars were scattered throughout the room, pressing up to the ceiling like palm trees.

“It used to be the potion cellar,” Ash said as we grabbed trays and headed for the line that snaked past all the food options. “They say it’s haunted.”

“Just a regular cellar,” Felix said, grabbing a salad with a seared salmon filet from the case in front of us. “And no, they don’t.”

“You’re no fun.” Ash elbowed him in the side. “We have to trick Cory into thinking Vesperwood’s cool, or he might not want to stay.” He grabbed a plate of French fries and ten little cartons of barbecue sauce as we continued down the line.

“Wouldn’t tricking me work better if you didn’t tell me that was what you were trying to do?” I said.

“Maybe.” Ash grinned. “Or maybe I’m a master of reverse psychology.”

He wiggled his fingers at me. I laughed and grabbed a plate of chicken strips and some fries of my own. I probably should have gone for something leafy and green like Felix, but I could always go back for more. I was pretty sure I could eat about ten salmon filets right now, actually.

I had a brief moment of panic as we wound our way to an open table in the main hall, wondering whether there was a meal plan here, and if I could afford it, before sternly telling myself to eat now and worry about that later. It wasn’t like I had money for tuition either. If I was going to get kicked out of Vesperwood for not being able to pay, I was at least going to enjoy lunch first.

Felix came out of his shell a little more as we ate, and I found myself charmed by the repartee between him and Ash. They were so different, but they complemented each other well and made a good pair. I felt a rush of gratitude that they were the two people helping me to adjust to life here.

I finished my first plate of food, and since they insisted there was still time for more, I stood up to get a second plate of fries. Sorry, salmon filet, maybe next time . I’d just made it to the end of the food line when the tall, blond guy from Spellwork and Environmental Magic stepped in front of me.

“Cory, is it?” he said smoothly.

My brow furrowed. Did he not realize he was blocking me? I stepped to the left, trying to get around him, but he moved over with me. I tried for the right, but the guy not only cut me off, he stepped forward, forcing me to back up or get run over. There was an alcove on the far side of the food line, filled with shelves of extra trays and napkins, and in just a few steps, he’d backed me into it.

My heartbeat sped up, and sweat broke out on my face. I told myself to stop being ridiculous, that we were in a crowded room full of people, but I felt surprisingly isolated in that little alcove. Besides, this guy had been staring at me all morning, and not in a friendly way.

Just calm down and stop being so dramatic , I told myself . He’s not going to try anything here, and even if he did, people would hear if you yelled. He doesn’t mean any harm .

Probably .

I craned my neck, looking out towards the main dining area, but a pillar blocked my sightline to Ash and Felix.

“Come on now, I know you can talk,” the blond guy said. “I saw you sucking up to the professors today. You clearly have a voice.”

Sucking up? Had he missed the part where Gallo had chewed me out? I frowned.

Something about his tone got under my skin. I’d been expecting aggression, maybe even violence. But I hadn’t prepared for condescension. Who did this guy think he was, anyway?

“Maybe I just don’t feel like using it to talk to you,” I said, letting my annoyance show.

“Touched a nerve, did I?” He smiled. It looked arrogant. Then again, that might just have been the set of his face. He probably looked arrogant in his sleep.

“What do you want?” I asked, even more irritated.

“Just to talk for a moment,” the guy said, spreading his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Am I interrupting something?”

I wanted to snap that yes, there was a plate of chicken strips with my name on it. But that would probably come off more stupid than snarky, and come to think of it, maybe I didn’t want him to know that he could rile me that much.

“No, not at all,” I said, making my voice as neutral as possible.

“Excellent. So. Are you, or aren’t you?”

“What?” I wondered if I’d misheard. It was kind of loud in the refectory.

“Are you, or aren’t you,” he repeated, as if that made it any clearer.

“Am I, or am I not what ?”

“Oh. I thought that was obvious.” The guy smiled again. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Human, of course.”

“Am I human? Of course I’m—” but I cut myself short before finishing. I was no longer sure I could answer that affirmatively, but more importantly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. After everything Ash had said this morning, it was a more loaded question than I’d realized.

“What business is it of yours?” I said instead.

“My business?” He laughed. “Cory, don’t be cute. It’s not my business. It’s everyone’s.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to know if we’re going to have to put you down someday. Like a rabid dog.” His tone was flat, all false jocularity gone.

I glanced at his eyes and shivered. He’d meant what he said. I opened my mouth to respond and found that I couldn’t.

The blond guy didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he took my silence as no more than his due. He paused for a moment, then leaned in even closer and—was he smelling me?

“Now, I don’t scent anything wrong about you,” he continued. “Nothing obviously unnatural. But considering the company you’ve been keeping today, I have a right to be suspicious.”

“The company I’ve been—okay, fuck you.” Forget irritated. I was downright angry now. “I’m new here, and Ash and Felix are the only two people who’ve been nice to me. You’re not going to convince me there’s something wrong with them just because you have some irrational prejudice.”

“It’s not prejudice. It’s a statement of facts. And it won’t seem so irrational when those creatures threaten you and your family. When Hunters are the only thing standing between you and torture, or enslavement, or worse.”

Another capital H. I wondered what it meant. But only idly. I was far more consumed with anger.

I didn’t know much about the magical world—or, okay, anything—but I knew my gut, and my gut trusted Ash and Felix. Besides, I had no reason to think well of this guy, who hadn’t even introduced himself before issuing threats like some kind of would-be dictator.

“Well, I’ll be sure to let you know when that happens,” I said, using my most saccharine customer service voice. “But until then, I have somewhere I need to—”

“I mean it, Cory.” The guy interrupted my planned kiss-off and pushed me against the shelf of trays. He put a hand on my shoulder to pin me there.

I glared up at him, angry and indignant and—oh Christ, was I turned on? Was it happening again?

It was. I was getting hard. Fuck, fuck, fuck. In the cafeteria, of all places? What the hell was wrong with me?

Well, I knew what was wrong with me, I supposed. But I couldn’t do anything about it until the dean’s special lessons started, whenever that would be. And none of that was any help right now.

“It might seem like a joke to you,” the guy said, “but it’s not. I don’t care how nice they are to you, how harmless they seem, how much they swear they’re nothing like the rest of their kind. Paranormals can’t be trusted. Vesperwood’s sole reason for existence is to teach and train the witch resistance—it doesn’t matter who they’re letting in now or what feel-good values they try to preach. When it comes down to it, it’s always going to be witches against paranormals, humans against non-humans. The sooner you understand that, the less it’ll hurt.”

He stared at me, like he could bore his message into my brain with his eyes.

Holy fuck. He really believes that. He actually thinks he’s helping me.

What the hell would he say if he knew what I really was?

His eyes were a rich brown that would have been pretty if they hadn’t been filled with so much hatred. They held mine for another moment before he finally stepped back, letting my shoulder go.

“Just think about it, all right?” he said, as though we’d been having a quiet chat about the merits of Buffalo sauce versus ranch for my chicken strips. “And don’t be afraid to come to me, if you need anything. Especially if it has to do with paranormals. I’m Sean, by the way.”

With a final look, he turned and walked away.

I took a deep breath. I felt like he’d been holding me hostage for hours instead of minutes. What a creepy guy. Even creepier because he truly believed the crap he was spouting.

With a shudder, I stepped forward and rejoined the line for food. But by the time I got back to Ash and Felix, I’d decided not to say anything to them about the conversation. I hadn’t learned anything new from Sean. My friends had already told me about the tensions between human witches and paranormal beings, and I didn’t want to ruin their lunch by repeating Sean’s words to them.

Plus, there was the fact that so far, everyone thought I fell on the human side of that divide. I guessed my human half was enough to stop Sean from smelling—and Jesus, that was weird—my paranormal half. Even Ash and Felix seemed to think I was just a regular witch.

It wasn’t that I was afraid to tell them I was paranormal, exactly. A fallen angel and a changeling weren’t going to have an issue with that. But the type of paranormal I was…

Dean Mansur had said that incubi were rare, which meant that probably, neither Ash or Felix had met one before. But if they knew what incubi were, and what incubi did, would they be so eager to be friends with me? If they knew I could slip into people’s dreams and have sex with them?

It was all well and good for the dean to say that I couldn’t technically make people do what they didn’t want to do—he wasn’t the one doing it. I didn’t want my friends to think I was some kind of creepy, manipulative abuser. My stomach twisted at the thought.

Besides which, it was embarrassing. Even if they didn’t think I was evil, I didn’t want them knowing that my magical powers were sex-related. Especially when I was the least sexy person who’d ever existed, in the real world.

No, it was better to keep that to myself. For now, at least.

Our third class was called Haven Selection and Application, which meant even less to me than the rest of our classes.

“It meets in the library?” I asked as Ash and Felix pulled me into a thickly carpeted, book-lined room with gothic stonework and pointed stained-glass windows.

“The first library,” Felix said, smiling happily. He seemed to glow at the sight of all the books.

“Which is on the second floor,” Ash put in. “Not to be confused with the second library, which is on the third floor.” He laughed when he saw me blink. “There are three in total, and none of them make any sense.”

The library was more than one room, actually, or maybe just one very long, very twisty one. Row upon row of bookcases filled the space, and I think we turned about seventeen corners before we made it to the very back room, where the rest of our classmates stood around a few large tables.

Sean and his friends were there again. Lucky me. At least they stood across the circle from me this time. I’d worried I would develop a permanent hunch in my shoulders from the feel of his eyes on my back during lunch.

“Do we have all our classes with them?” I asked quietly.

Ash looked confused, and I tilted my head in Sean’s direction.

“Unfortunately.” He rolled his eyes. “The freshman class is divided into two groups, Moon and Tree, for the two parts of Vesperwood’s seal. We’re in Tree, and Sean has the audacity to be in it as well.”

“Just try to ignore him,” Felix said.

Easier said than done, if you asked me, but I would try.

“So what is a haven, and why do we need to apply to one?” I asked Ash. “You mentioned it last night too. Does it have something to do with all the H-words you guys keep using?”

“Yeah,” Ash said, at the same time that Felix said, “The alliteration is only important on a surface level, it’s the deeper meaning that—”

But he was cut off by a professor who came down the aisle of bookcases to join our class.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, his voice welcoming. He wore an argyle sweater in navy, cream, and green, with a loose thread at the collar. Everything about him, even the smile he gave our class, felt worn-in but comfortable, like a shabby armchair perfect for curling up in.

His eyes fell on me and I felt unreasonably warmed by his smile, though that might just have been because he didn’t make me introduce myself to our group for a third time. Instead, he introduced himself as Professor Romero, mostly for my benefit, I thought, and then explained what we were supposed to be doing that afternoon.

“As you know, at the end of this semester, you will each apply to one of our eight havens for membership. The goal of this class is to prepare you to do that.”

He raised a hand and said the word, “ Hex .” An image appeared in the air, ruby-bright, of two crossed wands, with three stars surrounding them.

He waved his hand and spoke again. “ Hunt .” A new image appeared, next to the first. This one shone in sleek obsidian, an axe crossed with an arrow.

A third wave and the word, “ Heal ,” as a picture of a chalice with a tear drop suspended above it appeared, glimmering in amethyst.

‘ Hearth ’ created the image of a hand with a flame above the palm, worked in amber. ‘ Harvest ’ drew a picture of a stag’s horns twined with roses in jade green. ‘ History ’ produced an open book, crossed with a quill pen in deep sapphire. ‘ Harmony ’ generated a set of perfectly balanced scales, a dove on one side, a dagger on the other, in a sparkling citrine.

The images hung in the air, suspended by nothing but magic, and my heart lurched. I ached to touch them, to know them, to understand each symbol. I recognized the first two as the symbols Felix had warned me about, but I was still curious.

Then I frowned. Romero had said there were eight havens, but there were only seven symbols in the air. Where was the eighth? Why hadn’t he drawn it?

“Your individual courses introduce you to each of the havens in turn,” Professor Romero said, pulling my gaze back to him. “You’ll learn the basic principles of spellcasting within each concentration. This course is designed for you to examine in depth the havens which interest you most. To research and explore the opportunities for scholarship and careers within each. And to meet and discuss your interests with professors from each haven.”

He smiled. “You’ll probably be pleased to hear that this course won’t have midterms or a final exam.” He paused as a laugh rolled through the crowd, with one girl giving a small, “Woo-hoo!” Then he continued.

“That does not mean, however, that you won’t have to work. Remember that your haven application is just that—an application. The haven is under no obligation to accept everyone who applies. And students who aren’t accepted into a haven at the end of this semester are required to repeat their first year of studies, or to leave the university.”

That quieted the crowd quickly. I swallowed. Havens were more important than I’d thought.

“So, I hope you will all use your time in this course to ensure that doesn’t happen to you. Our goal at Vesperwood is to make sure that you are a good fit for the haven you choose, and that your haven is a good fit for you. Professors from each haven will provide lectures, and you will complete weekly research assignments, narrowing down your selection as the months progress.”

Rekha raised her hand, and Professor Romero nodded at her.

“What if we already know the haven we want to apply to? Can we use this time to work on other assignments or spells instead?”

Romero gave her a knowing smile. “You may think you already know, Rekha, but by the end of the semester, you may feel differently. That’s the entire point of this course. Even if all you gain is a deeper understanding of why you’re applying to your chosen haven, and not applying to the other ones, it will be time well-spent. And remember, you’re not just getting to know your chosen haven—they’re getting to know you. Whether you end up a member is as much their choice as yours.”

She looked like she wanted to object, but Romero clapped his hands and turned his attention to the rest of the class.

“We’ll begin with an exploration of the three oldest havens: Hex, Hunt, and Heal. Before Vesperwood existed, before any universities existed, there were individual havens for these three magical specialties around the world. Whether they functioned as guilds, as clubs, as societies, monasteries, or houses of wisdom, witches have always gathered to improve their casting, to defend and protect, and to heal those who needed it.”

I noticed he didn’t say who these witches were defending themselves from. I got the impression Romero wasn’t a person who ruffled feathers unnecessarily.

“When l’Accademia del Soprannaturale was founded alongside the University of Bologna in the twelfth century, it represented the unification of Il Rifugio dei Maghi , Il Rifugio dei Cacciatori , and Il Rifiguio dei Guaritori which had existed separately for centuries. The magical shuyuan of Tang Dynasty China combined these fields of study as well, as did ancient centers of learning in India, Persia, and elsewhere. To this day, it is expected that all magical colleges and universities will include at least these three havens.”

My mind reeled, trying to take all the information in. Felix had mentioned Gallo studying in Europe, but I hadn’t really registered that there must be magical universities all over the world, dating back a millennium or more.

Romero explained that we’d each pick one of those three havens to study this week, writing a paper on that haven’s history at Vesperwood and its relationship with a sister haven at a university in at least one other country. Then he turned us loose to gather sources.

Ash made a face at Felix. “Heal?” he said.

“What else?” Felix pointed a few bookcases down the aisle. “I think some of the histories of Vesperwood are down there. We should grab them before anyone else does.”

“You want to do Heal too, Cory?” Ash asked over his shoulder as he and Felix wove their way through the crowd towards the bookcase Felix had indicated. Little eddies of activity swirled through the library as small groups of students moved towards different shelves.

“Yes, please,” I said, tagging along. I did not relish the idea of trying to complete this assignment on my own.

Felix’s fingers traced quickly across the spines of books when we reached the bookcase he’d indicated. Half the titles were written in languages that definitely weren’t English, but that didn’t seem to phase him. Every so often, he’d pull a book two inches out, but leave it on the shelf, marking ones he wanted to go back to.

“What did you mean when you said, ‘ what else ?’” I asked him. “Why’d you guys pick Heal?”

Ash was the one who answered. “Because can you honestly imagine us researching one of the other two? I mean, it’s not like there are that many paranormal healers either, but I definitely don’t need to spend a week researching the history of the two havens most firmly devoted to exterminating people like me.”

“Exterminating?” I said, my eyes going wide. It sounded suspiciously like what Sean had said at lunch. My stomach tightened. If people truly did want to exterminate paranormal beings, that probably included me.

“I told you Ash exaggerates,” Felix said, not taking his eyes from the books.

“I do not,” Ash replied tartly. He looked over at me. “The reason Hex, Hunt, and Heal are the oldest havens is because those are the specialties most directly related to witches finding and killing paranormal beings—and then being healed, if they get injured in their attacks.”

“Jesus,” I whispered.

“And even though we’re supposedly living in more tolerant times, those havens are pretty much closed to people like me and Felix. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if we tried to apply to them. Even Heal would be a stretch. I can’t think of a single witch who’d be excited to have a paranormal healer work on them.”

“There’s Helmut Schiller,” Felix said absently, his fingers pulling out a green, cloth-bound book with gold lettering on the spine. This one, he pulled all the way off the shelf, flipping it open to scan the table of contents. “And Naoko Takeda.”

“Helmut Schiller has been dead for forty years,” Ash retorted. “And he died in questionable circumstances, I might add. And Naoko Takeda mostly heals paranormals, and you know it. I don’t see a lot of witches beating down her door.”

“You always see the glass half empty,” Felix murmured.

“Because it is .”

“So, wait.” I shook my head. “This whole haven thing. Is it like choosing a major at a regular university?”

“Kind of,” Ash said. “If your major determined your career path and social standing for the rest of your life”

“And there are majors—havens, I mean—which only exist to hunt and kill paranormal beings?” I said, aghast. “How is that even allowed?”

“Because on paper , that’s not their focus anymore. Hexers work on furthering casting techniques for more than just battle spells. And Hunters work for collective defense, not offense, and only against ‘proven ’ malefactors. Supposedly.” Ash’s tone made it clear what he thought of that.

“So what are paranormal students supposed to major in—I mean, apply to, for havens?”

“History, mostly,” Ash said. “Or Harmony, that’s another ‘ safe ’ one, where they figure we can’t get into too much trouble. Maybe Hearth or Harvest, depending on the innate abilities your magic gives you.”

I frowned again. “That’s still only seven. But Romero said there were eight, didn’t he?”

“Oh.” Ash laughed. “Well, yeah. Technically. But I don’t think anyone applies to Horizon. I think if that’s where you’re going to end up, everyone knows it from the minute you arrive at Vesperwood. There are like, three students total in there right now.”

“Why? What is Horizon?”

“Hierophants,” Felix said, cradling the green book in his arms.

“Haunts,” Ash said a moment later.

“Which are…”

“Seers,” said a voice behind me, and I turned to see Professor Romero walking up to join our little group.

I blinked. “Seers? Like…psychics?”

“Not exactly,” he said, “but that’s close enough for now. You’ll have a chance to learn more about that haven over time. Who knows, you might even find you have an affinity for it.”

Ash snorted delicately, but when Romero gave him a questioning look, he ducked his head and said, “Sorry.”

“We try to avoid stereotypes here,” Romero said, his smile telling Ash he was forgiven. Then he turned to me. “You must be Cory. The dean told me you’d be joining us.”

He shook my hand, and I wondered why the other professors couldn’t have been as nice as he was.

He smiled again. “I hope you know—”

“That I have a lot of catching up to do,” I finished wearily. “Yeah, everyone’s been saying that. Trust me. I know.”

Romero laughed softly. “Actually, I was going to say how happy we are to have you here. It’s always good to have new students.”

“Oh.” I flushed, feeling pleased, and then silly for being pleased. “Um. Thanks.”

“I see you’ve made some friends already,” Romero said, nodding at Felix and Ash. “Would you be comfortable working with them for your first paper?”

“Oh, God, yes. Please. And thank you,” I said gratefully.

“Wonderful. Then that’s settled. And Cory, please know you can come to me with any questions you have, alright?”

“He’s great, isn’t he?” Felix said as Romero walked away.

“Yeah.” I turned to him, wide-eyed. “He’s like, the nicest person I’ve met here so far.”

“Hey, what about us?” Ash said. “Me and Felix don’t count for anything?”

“I’m shocked and deeply saddened by this lacuna in your affections, Cory,” Felix said in a perfect, stentorious impression of Professor Gallo.

That sent Ash into hysterics, and I couldn’t help laughing too. This was the most comfortable I’d felt since I’d arrived at Vesperwood. I still had no idea what was going on, and felt massively out of my depth, but at least I had some friends, and one professor who didn’t see me as a burden. Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible after all?

I should have known better than to get my hopes up.