Chapter 7 #2
“You can’t talk to the Mother like that,” Celeste whispers, her gaze flicking towards the still open doorway as if she expects Delaney to materialize like a damn poltergeist.
“Like what?”
“Like you did,” she says. “She’s punished people for less than that.”
I snort and move towards the connected bathroom with my clothes. “I’d like to see her try.”
I change quickly and then follow Celeste out the door and down the hall. Amanda left while I was in the bathroom, though I have no idea where she went.
“Usually, you’ll get up a little earlier than this to get breakfast,” Celeste says, some of her earlier trepidation gone as she goes into “tour guide” mode. She points towards two double doors. “That leads to the cafeteria.”
“What is this place even called?” I ask, gawking.
Now that we’re out of the initial hallway—which boasted nothing but wooden doors—I see that the interior of the building is a marvel in architecture.
We seem to be in a large, cylinder-like room.
A circular staircase snakes upwards, stopping at every floor.
I try to remember if I’ve seen a building like this in town but come up blank.
“You know I can’t answer that.” Celeste leads me towards the staircase and begins the trek upwards, one of her hands hovering over the railing.
The staircase is a rich marble that contrasts beautifully with the white-tiled flooring and similarly colored walls.
“I don’t need to know the location,” I insist. “But what is this place called? Witch school?”
Her lips twitch.
“This is the covenstead,” she answers as we reach the second floor, the curved balcony overlooking the marble tiles below. “This floor is where we hold coven meetings. We usually only have them once a month or during important events.”
We climb up another curving set of stairs and stop at the third floor. Hesitantly, I peer over the edge of the balcony towards the white floor below.
“This is where older witches live—those who are no longer in school but don’t wish to join society.”
“Witches like Ara,” I murmur, thinking of the bitter old Crone.
Celeste giggles. “Exactly.”
We reach the fourth floor.
“This is where you’ll have most of your classes.” She points upwards, towards the floor directly above us. “You’ll do actual magic in those rooms. Now come on. We’re going to be late.”
She opens a pair of double doors and walks down a long carpeted hallway. Unlike the hallway I came from, this one has windows over each of the doors, allowing me to see classroom-like settings inside.
“Did you bring your iPad with you?” Celeste asks, pausing.
I frown but nod, producing the tablet out of the bag provided for me.
Celeste grabs it and immediately begins to plug things in. After a moment, she turns it for me to see.
“This app will show you your schedule and where the class is at. Your first class is 412. Fourth floor, room twelve. Understand?” She swipes to a different app.
“This is where most of your assignments will be. We don’t like to use paper here if we can help it.
We prefer environmentally friendly or magical methods. ”
She clicks on the only other app. “And this is a chat board for all of the students and teachers. Got it? You won’t be able to download any other apps, unfortunately.”
She passes the tablet back to me.
“This seems awfully high-tech for a witch school,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “We may be witches, but it’s still the twenty-first century. You’ll be surprised how we’ve adapted to combine technology and magic.”
She continues moving down the hall and stops when she reaches a room that has the number twelve written in white letters above the door.
“Now, most of the students here will be a few years younger than you. I think we only have one new student around your age. And his mentor, of course. Only witches and warlocks who didn’t grow up in the magical community get mentors. ”
“What is this class?” I didn’t have a chance to look at my schedule.
“Magic for Beginners,” she answers. “Don’t worry. This is one of the only classes you’ll take with the underclassmen. The rest will be tailored more specifically to your skills.”
“Great.” Sarcasm drips from my voice.
Celeste offers me another smile, her cheeks bunching like a chipmunk, before pushing open the door to the room.
Over twenty heads pop up when we enter, but I refuse to blush or be embarrassed. It’s not my fault I’m late.
The teacher, an older man with a pinched expression and a bulbous nose, glares at first me and then Celeste. “Glad you two could join us.”
Before I can retort, Celeste says, “Sorry, Doctor Mort. We had a meeting with the Mother that went longer than expected.”
“Oh.” He clears his throat and jerks his chin towards the desks. “Take a seat.”
I expect Celeste to leave me at the door, but she surprises me by flouncing into the room, heading towards a pair of two desks near the back.
Is Celeste required to attend all of my classes with me? Why the hell would she agree to do that? Unless she’s one of those people who loves school and—
My thoughts cease when I catch sight of the two men sitting directly behind the desks Doctor Mort indicated.
The man on the left is gaping at me, a combination of hope, shock, and trepidation flooding his eyes.
“Izzy?” His voice is breathy.
“Ansel?” I move towards him immediately. “What the hell are you doing here?”