Chapter 5 Roommates #3
The auditorium quiets, shock coiling within my chest at the casual statement of that. He seems both whole and content, and I don’t know what to make of the idea that there are those of us who would find happiness here, in the home of our tormentors.
He tells us, “The first set of tarot cards was found in the forest of Eidolon in the North, thought to be a gift from the druids’ mightiest god, Azazel, to help a nearby village survive a harsh winter.
Since then, every set of cards has been made from a tree within that forest, which is why keeping your set together, keeping that tree and its magic intact, is so necessary. I’m sure you all have many questions—”
“What use are the lower of the Major Arcana?” a young man with messy hair asks from the front row. “I was only given the Emperor.”
Professor Atum casually sets a large spherical marble on a desk between the board and us.
He places his tarot deck beside it, opening and casually shuffling them out.
With a motion like he’s pulling a marionette upright, a card slips out, suspended in the air on invisible strings.
It floats until it hovers before his outstretched palm, a twinkling golden glow surrounding it.
“The Magician. This card is nearly the lowest of Major Arcana, found on the might scale just above the Fool, and three spaces below the Emperor.”
His spare hand parts the air over the orb, and as he does, it transforms, its material turning to pure gold before our eyes. I cannot fathom how much money it would fetch, the problems it would solve in the mortal realm.
“Yet it still can transform materials. Even change lives, through the power of alchemy.” There’s a moment of silence as Professor Atum assesses us.
“Every single one of you holds the potential to enrich our world through your efforts—but first, you must understand how we use magic for the greater good. The Major Arcana, which direct what forms of magic we are attuned to. The Minor Arcana, which enhance the Major Arcana. And the deck’s storytelling ability, what each card represents in metaphor, offering guidance and even divination when used altogether.
Tarot cards, like the druid community, are strongest when kept together. ”
He steps out from behind his desk, arms crossed. “In this class you will learn what each does and how that contributes to the kingdom of Sedah. You will learn to understand our cultures and customs and how we use magic to support every aspect of them. Write this down.”
I GLANCE AT A CLOCK over Professor Atum’s head almost an hour later, my hand cramping from vigorous note-taking.
Somehow, there are still five minutes left before this class ends, and I force myself to break, rubbing my right hand to work out the stiffness.
I’ve made a column with the Major Arcana and their powers, but they don’t all make sense to me.
The Tower wields lightning, the Emperor uses telekinesis, and Death controls shadows.
They don’t fit quite right. Not like Strength, whose power is an enhanced version of its name, or the Lovers’ ability to draw out the truth in relationships and improve fated mating bonds.
Whatever the hells those are.
I don’t know how I’ll ever keep it all in line. Reading the list and knowing I’ll eventually be able to wield all these powers leaves me in disbelief. If there’s one thing in this world I’m sure of, it’s my ability to distrust anything that seems too good to be true.
Better that than to prove myself a fool.
A bell rings, and I’m pulled out of my thoughts as everyone packs up. I gather my things and we scoot along the lecture hall’s row to the stairs, slipping out of the room into the hallway.
“Did any of that make sense to you two?” I ask.
Morgan chuckles.
Ember looks through her notebook. Somehow, she’s managed to adorn each page with neat little drawings. Her penmanship is beautiful, everything tidy and thorough. Meanwhile, there’s still ink smeared up the side of my hand.
“I think so, but I’m not sure what the ability to wield light and fire means as a life skill,” she says thoughtfully, reflecting on her own powers of the Star.
“Just think of it this way—we’ll never need a torch again,” Morgan teases.
“I don’t think we’ll need torches or lanterns.” Ember points to the magical lights in the sconces of the hallway as we walk along. “Pretty sure they got that covered.”
“Star Arcana work in the forges to create our weapons,” someone snarks, bumping hard into Ember’s shoulder as they pass by.
The druid girl bares her teeth at the indignation on my face.
Her eyes are upswept, pretty freckles dot her cheeks like constellations, and her hair is long and straight, tied up in a black wave down her back.
“If you weren’t a bunch of scabs, you’d know that. ”
And I thought she was pretty until she had to go and say that.
“Scabs?” My lip curls, though sweat beads my temple at the confrontation. “Is that the best you can come up with? Immortal lifespans, but scab is the most original you got? It’s a wonder you’re not all extinct.”
She stops abruptly. “What did you just say?”
The tone in the hallway shifts, and it dawns on me that most of the druids around me are Sedah-born, their tattoos and nicer gear setting them distinctly apart.
My fists clench, talons sliding from the beds of my fingernails, but I don’t want whoever this druid is to realize she’s getting to me with so little effort. I force a relaxed smile to my lips.
“Should I have said it slower?”
“How did Prince Draven wind up Selecting someone as witless as you?” She looks me up and down as if it’s impossible based on whatever she sees of me.
“You don’t belong here. Only pureborns do.
And if this were twenty years ago, I’d have your head on a spike.
You and your worthless, dirty-blooded mortal friends. ”
I step forward, my boots nearly pressing against hers. She’s taller than me, but I won’t let her make me feel small. She’s the least of what I’ve faced.
“You really underestimate my level of spite.” Calm laces my voice, though I’m sure there’s fire in my eyes. “Just for this, I think I’m gonna give it my all. If for nothing else than to see you so threatened by us.”
Her long lashes flutter, and then she’s lunging.
I reach for a knife that’s not there, remembering too late I left my weapons in Vexamire, and she grabs me by the throat, lifting me off my feet.
How did she move so fast? I’m slammed into the stone wall behind us.
My head cracks, lightning shooting through it.
The hallway erupts. Changelings and druids brawling throughout it.
I even catch Kasper throw an unblocked punch into a druid’s jaw, felling him in an instant.
My focus swivels onto the girl in front of me.
For someone so slight, she shouldn’t be able to pin me here with one hand.
Her grasp tightens, and some gurgle comes from my throat, but it certainly isn’t the Fuck you I planned on saying.
I scrabble for the pen in my bag, trying to slide it out.
It’s not a knife, but it can still be a weapon.
“Get off her!” I hear Ember scream.
Two druids, likely my assailant’s friends, block Ember from reaching me. My fingertips can’t get purchase on the pen.
Fangs bared, the girl snarls, “You mortals are so weak. Just playthings to us. And if there were a way to reverse the Curse, we’d have wiped your lot out during your pathetic uprising.”
“What … Curse?” I cough.
Her eyes widen as if she’s let something slip.
“Mira!” a voice hollers over the crowd, the tone so chastising that everyone stops, and Mira drops me to the floor, where I steady myself against the wall.
There’s a ripple in the hall as the crowd’s attention shifts to a furious professor.
He looks as if he could be her father, though I keep that observation to myself.
He gestures to an open lecture hall behind him, speaking to everyone, “I am Professor Vexus, and I teach practical magic with Major Arcana. You’re all late. ”