Chapter 9 Karrick
Karrick
By the time we reached the Elemental Arts building, class was just letting out.
Several witches passed by without giving us so much as a wayward glance.
Then again, Phoenix and I were walking some thirty feet apart to keep his strange invisible pendant from burning him.
Just the thought of his parents hurting him like that caused a rage deep in my chest that was almost impossible to contain.
The professor’s office was tucked away in the eastern wing of the building, a place most students avoided unless absolutely necessary.
I’d heard stories about Blackwood’s past, how she’d once been aligned with dangerous purist elements before her reformation.
The thought of seeking her help made my stomach clench, but when I glanced back at Phoenix, his face pale with determination despite the pain that pendant was causing him, I knew we had no choice.
Besides, if Atlas trusted her, then so did I.
“You sure about this?” I asked as we approached her door.
Phoenix nodded, clutching the library books to his chest like a shield. “If she can help me remember... if she can help me get free of this thing... I have to try.”
I raised my fist and knocked firmly on the heavy oak door. The sound echoed ominously in the empty hallway.
“Enter,” came a crisp, authoritative voice from within.
I pushed the door open, and Professor Blackwood looked up from her desk, her silver-streaked black hair pulled back in a severe bun as always. Her dark eyes narrowed slightly as she took us in, first me, then Phoenix several paces behind.
“Mr. Laurent. Mr. Emberwood.” She set down her pen with deliberate care. “This is unexpected.”
“Professor,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady, “we need your help with something... sensitive.”
Her gaze sharpened. “Close the door.”
I did as she asked, and Phoenix stepped cautiously into the room, maintaining his distance from me.
The office was lined with bookshelves filled with ancient tomes, strange artifacts displayed in glass cases, and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling.
It smelled of sage and something metallic I couldn’t identify.
Professor Blackwood raised a hand, making a set of complicated motions through the air. Suddenly the place seemed lighter. Wards maybe?
“So, what exactly is the nature of this sensitive matter?” she asked, folding her hands on her desk. “Neither of you were in class today, so I hope it’s something good.”
Phoenix stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “Memory modification. And this.” He gestured to his chest where the invisible pendant hung.
Something in Professor Blackwood’s expression changed, a flicker of recognition, then anger. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the wooden floor.
“Show me,” she commanded.
Phoenix pulled at the chain around his neck, revealing nothing to our eyes but clearly something was there. “My parents gave it to me. It burns when I’m near anyone who isn’t a witch. It’s why I’m standing so far from Karrick.”
Professor Blackwood approached, taking the invisible chain in hand, studying it carefully.
Then, just as quickly, she dropped it and went to her store cupboards, pulling out jars of random things until at last she let out a soft gasp.
Pulling off the lid and dipping her fingers in, she walked back to Phoenix.
“Ashes,” she smiled, grabbing the necklace once more. “Sometimes the most mundane magic is the most useful.”
Taking the pendant in her ashy hand, she rubbed at it until the soot stuck, revealing what was there.
I glanced over her shoulder, trying to get a better look at this tool of torment.
It was such a tiny thing on a thin chain.
And yet, as Professor Blackwood’s thumb swiped over the surface, I saw a symbol that filled me with fear down to my very bones.
“The Purity Front…” I whispered.
“I’m afraid so,” Professor Blackwood nodded. “I knew the Emberwoods were involved in some capacity, of course, but I didn’t know it was this extensive.” She lifted her gaze to Phoenix, giving him a pitying look. “They’re hurting you, aren’t they? I can see it on your skin.”
Phoenix stared at her for a long moment before quietly nodding his head.
“Honestly,” she sighed. “I don’t know why they even sent you here. It’s impossible to go through four years at this academy without getting sat next to a shifter or a monstrous creature. Your parents set you up to fail.” She gave him a good once over. “Or… to lose control.”
“Lose control?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“Your gifts are well known, Mr. Emberwood. There isn’t another witch I know of that has as much control over fire as you. Should you be tortured until you truly lose control… well, you’d make the Hindenburg disaster look like nothing more than a cheap fireworks display.”
My blood ran cold at her words. Phoenix losing control? The idea of all that fire magic unleashed without restraint... I’d seen what he could do as a child, the careful way he’d practiced with small flames. But now, with years of training and pain building up inside him?
“They want me to lose control?” Phoenix whispered, his voice barely audible. The color drained from his face as the realization hit him. “That’s why they sent me here? They want me to hurt someone?”
“Or hurt yourself,” Professor Blackwood said grimly. “Either outcome would serve their purposes. A witch who loses control and harms innocents becomes a cautionary tale. One who burns himself out trying to contain his power becomes a martyr.”
I wanted to reach for Phoenix, to comfort him somehow, but I forced myself to stay back. The pendant was already causing him enough pain without me making it worse.
“But… I thought… I thought they loved me,” Phoenix whispered, looking wide-eyed around the room. “I knew they didn’t like monsters but… they loved me, right?”
Professor Blackwood nodded. “They do love you,” she replied, being especially delicate. “So much that they want you to go down in history as the witch that destroyed the Purity Front’s biggest adversary. Widdershins Academy.”
“That doesn’t sound like love,” I muttered, glaring at her back.
“To those in the Purity Front,” she sighed. “It’s as close as you can get.”
“Can you remove the damn thing then?” I asked Professor Blackwood, my voice rougher than I intended. “So Phoenix can have his life back?”
She examined the now-visible pendant more closely, her expression growing darker. “Not directly. This type of binding magic requires a replacement focus, something to absorb the connection before the original can be severed. Otherwise, the backlash could kill him.”
“You mean it’s possible?” Phoenix asked, hope creeping into his voice. “What kind of replacement?”
“A golem,” she said, moving to one of her bookshelves and pulling down a thick tome.
“We create a magical construct that mimics your magical signature and is infused with your blood, transfer the pendant’s binding to it, then hide it someplace where it will never come into contact with anyone but a witch. ”
She flipped through pages covered in intricate diagrams and symbols that made my head spin just looking at them.
“The process requires rare materials,” she continued. “Clay from a hundred-year-old graveyard, water blessed under a blood moon, a vial of your blood, and...” She paused, glancing up at us. “A piece of bone.”
Phoenix went even paler. “Bone?”
“Just a small fragment. A small piece of a tooth would suffice. Or I could withdraw it from a femur with relatively little pain.” Professor Blackwood’s tone was matter-of-fact, but I could see the concern in her eyes.
“The real challenge is time. This ritual takes six hours to complete, and it has to be ready before the full moon. Which, as luck would have it, is tonight.”
“Tonight?” I croaked, the world seeming to tilt beneath my feet. “That’s… we don’t have time to prepare or—”
“We need to start immediately,” Professor Blackwood interrupted, already moving to a cabinet against the far wall. “The ritual must conclude at moonrise, which gives us precisely six hours and twenty-two minutes.”
Phoenix’s eyes darted to me, wide with a mixture of hope and terror. “Won’t my parents know something is wrong? They made it seem like they can watch through my pendant too.”
“Then they lied,” Professor Blackwood said, pulling out various jars and vials from the cabinet. “The magic isn’t that strong. And lucky for you, I have all the supplies we need. Plus, I have the perfect hiding place for the golem. Mr. Thornfield owes me a favor anyway.”
My chest tightened at the mention of the Dean. “Can we trust him with this?”
Professor Blackwood’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “More than you might think, Mr. Laurent. The Dean has his own... complicated relationship with the Purity Front.”
She set a ceramic bowl on her desk, then removed a small wooden box from a drawer. When she opened it, I caught the gleam of surgical instruments inside.
“I’ll need your blood first, Mr. Emberwood,” she said, selecting a curved needle. “And then a fragment of bone from you, Mr. Laurent.”
My stomach lurched. “Wait, what?!” I scoffed. “It has to be my bone?!”
“Yes,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Didn’t I say that?”
“No, you did not.”
“The magic requires a fragment of cursed bone. And Beastkin, as much as I’m loathe to admit, are under such a curse.”
“Can’t we use something else?” I begged.
She just shook her head. “Hair and nails regenerate. Bone is forever. And your curse will be the only thing that can bind the spell together.”
Phoenix stepped forward, rolling up his sleeve. “Take what you need from me. I can’t live like this anymore.”
The determination in his voice made something fierce and protective surge through me. If he could be brave enough to face this, I could damn well give up a piece of bone.
“Fine,” I growled. “Take some of my tusk. They grow back anyway.”
Professor Blackwood nodded. “I’ll extract blood from Mr. Emberwood first, then we’ll proceed with you, Mr. Laurent.
After that, I’ll need to gather the remaining components while you two wait here.
” She fixed us with a stern look. “Under no circumstances are you to leave this office. The pendant will continue to cause pain if you’re too close, so maintain your distance until I return. ”
She gestured for Phoenix to sit in the chair beside her desk. As she prepared the needle, Phoenix’s eyes found mine across the room.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “For helping me remember. For this.”
The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache. “You would’ve done the same for me,” I replied, knowing it was true even if he couldn’t remember our friendship yet.
Professor Blackwood drew several vials of Phoenix’s blood with practiced efficiency. When she finished, she handed him a small vial of blue liquid. “Drink this. It will replenish what I’ve taken.”
Then she turned to me. “Your turn, Mr. Laurent. This will be... uncomfortable.”
I sat down heavily in the chair Phoenix had just vacated, trying not to think about what was coming. Professor Blackwood approached me with what looked like a pair of surgical pliers, her expression focused and clinical.
“Open your mouth,” she instructed.
I hesitated, my hand instinctively moving toward my lower jaw where my tusks protruded. They weren’t huge, nothing like what you’d see on a wild boar, but they were solid bone and definitely part of me.
“It’s okay,” Phoenix said softly from across the room. “I’m right here.”
Something about his voice, gentle and encouraging despite everything he was going through, made me relax slightly. I opened my mouth and tilted my head back.
Professor Blackwood gripped my left tusk with the pliers, and I felt cold metal against the bone. “This will hurt,” she warned, then applied pressure.
The pain was immediate and intense, shooting through my jaw and up into my skull like lightning. I gripped the arms of the chair so hard my claws left gouges in the wood, a low growl escaping my throat as she worked to chip off a small fragment.
“Almost there,” she murmured, adjusting her grip.
There was a sharp crack, and suddenly the pressure released. I tasted blood in my mouth as she stepped back, holding a small piece of yellowed bone between the pliers.
“Perfect,” she said, dropping the fragment into a glass vial. “The bleeding will stop shortly. Beastkin heal quickly.”
I ran my tongue over my tusk, feeling the rough edge where she’d chipped it. It throbbed like hell, but she was right, I could already feel it beginning to heal.
“Now then,” Professor Blackwood said, gathering her materials.
“I need to retrieve the graveyard clay and blessed water from my private stores. They’re kept in a secure location across campus.
” She fixed us both with a stern look. “I cannot stress this enough, do not leave this office. The wards I’ve placed will keep you hidden from any magical surveillance, but only within these walls. ”
Phoenix nodded from his position near the far window. “How long will you be gone?”
“Thirty minutes at most. Use the time to rest. Once I return, the ritual begins immediately and cannot be interrupted.” She paused at the door. “And Mr. Emberwood? Try to stay calm. Strong emotions can interfere with the blood magic.”
The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving Phoenix and me alone in the herb-scented office. The silence stretched between us, filled with everything we couldn’t say, everything he couldn’t remember.
“Does it hurt?” Phoenix asked quietly, nodding toward my jaw.
I touched my tusk gingerly. “It’s not too bad. Healing already.” I studied his face, looking for any sign of recognition. “You always used to worry about me getting hurt when we were kids. Even over stupid stuff.”
Something flickered in his eyes but faded just as fast once more. “I wish I could remember,” he sighed.
“You will,” I replied encouragingly. “Once we get this tether off you, we’ll get your memories back. And then you’ll remember just how good of friends we were and all the adventures we used to have.”
He stared at me, his cheeks blushing a deep rosy color. “I’d like that,” he said softly.
It was then I recognized the heat that had been growing in my belly for some time throughout the day.
I stared at Phoenix, looked into those flaming eyes of his and thought…
thought about how beautiful they were. It caught me totally off guard.
Phoenix was a boy after all and that wasn’t really my thing. Right?
I shook my head. One problem at a time.