Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Asharp knock startles me from a fitful sleep hours later.
“Poppy?” Wylder’s voice comes through the door. “If you want a shower, get in there now before time runs out.”
I leap off the bed, grabbing my toiletry bag from my duffel. “Coming!”
When I open my door, three witches in matching training uniforms are huddled around the large wooden worktable. They fall silent immediately, staring at me with expressions ranging from curiosity to thinly veiled hostility.
Wylder stands by the kitchenette, nursing a steaming mug. His eyes meet mine, and something has shifted. He’s still got his jaw clenched and a ‘don’t fuck with me’ look burning in those emerald green peepers, but there’s something else in his glare. Concern maybe?
As unlikely as that seems, I don’t dwell on it.
Orion has a wad of bacon in his hand and is heading for the door. “I’m off to kick ass and take names. Good luck today, Poppy. May the odds be ever in your favor.”
I chuckle at Orion’s pep talk and give him a wave. “Go be your double-threat self.”
“You know it.”
When he’s out the door, I meet Wylder’s gaze and tilt my head toward the bathroom. “I’ll be quick.”
“You’ve got time,” he says, “but not too much. You’re booked in for nine.”
Booked in? I want to ask him what that means, but the weight of the other witches’ stares stops me. It’s none of their business.
My instinct is to hunch my shoulders and scurry off under their scrutiny. Instead, I think of my mother—the woman I believe she truly was—and straighten to my full height, lifting my chin.
Let them stare. Let them whisper.
I’m a Hallowind, and I’m exactly where I need to be.
I march into the bathroom without looking back, and the door closes behind me.
“Where are we going?” I jog to keep up with Wylder’s long strides half an hour later. I follow him through a maze of hallways, our footsteps echoing against polished stone floors. The academy seems impossibly vast from the inside, spaces expanding and contracting in ways that defy physics.
“The Summoning Hall,” he says without looking back.
Wow, don’t overshare or anything.
The hot water drumming against my skin may have washed away my sleepless night, but it did nothing to relieve the gnawing anxiety. I’m in a strange, pocketed fold of magical reality where everyone hates me and giant bird beasts want to rip me up with their talons the moment I step out of line.
At least I’ll look good when it all comes crashing down around me.
As I hurry behind him, the deep sapphire blue tunic swishes against my upper thighs, my black leggings and lace-up, knee-high boots crushing the whole dominatrix witch vibe this place has going on.
The red dye has finally rinsed out, and my blonde hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, a few strands left loose at my temples to catch the breeze and soften my face. “Is the Summoning Hall where affinity stuff happens.”
“Not stuff. Testing.”
My knees threaten to give out, and my stride falters. “Testing? Is that a good idea? The last time you people poked at me, your torture broke a layer of the bonding, and I lost control.”
He stops, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he grits his teeth. “I’ve told you before, we weren’t torturing you. It only felt like that because you don’t have any control.”
“Well, my question stands. Is this a good idea?”
He hesitates. “It’ll be fine. Arcana can handle massive fluctuations of magic and instability. It’s why we’re here.”
My lungs feel heavy as I try to pull in a full breath. Yeah, well, I hope he’s right because I don’t think I’ll make it back to my stone circle in time if they trigger another event.
We arrive at massive double doors carved with intricate symbols that seem to shift when I look directly at them. Wylder pushes them open, revealing a circular chamber with a domed ceiling thirty feet above. It mimics the night sky, complete with twinkling constellations.
Four students already occupy chairs arranged in a half-circle. Their gazes find me instantly, curious and calculating. Aside from the students, there are a few others here, either to watch or assist. I’m not sure which.
I roll my eyes and fight not to groan as Amber turns from where she’s chatting with another senior volunteer. The two are standing near a desk talking to a tall man with rust-colored hair. Another witch, a woman with sharp features and eyes like coal, stands beside them.
Amber notices our arrival and stiffens, whispering something to her companions before shooting me a look that could curdle milk.
“Is this what it’s going to be like the whole time? Is she going to follow me around like some Elite leering section?”
“No, it’s not.” Wylder’s tone is even deeper than normal. “I’ll handle it.”
The words are no sooner out of his mouth than she’s sashaying over, giving him a once-over with a smoky, seductive gaze.
Wylder doesn’t seem all that receptive to her come-hither routine. He gets big points in my book for that.
“Amber, Fallon,” Wylder acknowledges stiffly, “I didn’t expect to see you two here.”
Amber flashes him a saccharine-sweet smile. “I needed to speak with you about the council meeting. But I can see you’re busy with your... project.”
Fallon smirks. “So this is Zoe’s daughter?” She studies me as if I’m a specimen under glass. “I’m underwhelmed.”
“Same.” I shrug and look at Wylder. “Have you ever noticed you can be underwhelmed and overwhelmed, but you can’t just be ‘whelmed’? What’s that about?”
He blinks at me and, for the first time, he cracks a smile. “I’m not sure, but it’s worth giving some thought.”
Amber’s nose wrinkles like I’ve got stank on me. “Do you think this is a joke? You get that you’re a mistake, right? You’re a total newb and your bloodline is tainted and marked. I’ll give you a hint… That’s not good. Nobody wants you here.”
“And are you the nobody you’re talking about?” I ask.
Amber’s gaze narrows dangerously on me, her bright hazel eyes flaring with fury. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m more than a girl from your high school, loser. I’m an Emberwood Elite.”
I laugh. “Trust me. I know exactly who I’m talking to.
A superficial, insecure cow who cares more about her family name and status than who someone is and what they have to offer.
You’re a petty little girl who resorts to insulting and tormenting everyone you think is beneath you so you can feel good about yourself.
And as for being an Emberwood Elite—newsflash, beotch—I am too. ”
Fallon gasps, and if Amber could incinerate me with just her glare, I’d be the Arcana version of the Burning Man.
But before she can respond, the man at the desk clears his throat.
“If you’ll excuse us, ladies. We have a session to begin.” His voice carries unexpected weight for his willowy frame. As Amber and Fallon reluctantly exit, he turns to me. “Ms. Hallowind, please join the others.”
I take the empty seat at the end of the row as Wylder leans against the wall behind us.
The instructor approaches. Up close, I notice his skin has a faint blue undertone, and when he blinks, I glimpse a second translucent eyelid.
“For those who haven’t met me, I’m Dr. Thorne.” He smiles, revealing teeth just slightly sharper than normal. “I’m a selkie and the Academy’s magical physician. I specialize in affinity therapy and magical unbinding.”
A girl with dark hair streaked with blue and green raises her hand. “So when do we get started? I need my wolf out like, yesterday.”
Dr. Thorne regards her with patient eyes. “Ms. Wolcott, as I’ve explained, we don’t simply ‘let the wolf out,’ as you put it. Your case, like everyone else’s here, requires careful handling.”
He moves to the center of our half-circle. “In cases where powers have built up, whether naturally from a late transition or forcibly from a binding, the biggest danger is for the powers to simply be set free all at once. The resulting magical backlash could harm you and others.”
“So, you’re not going to release my wolf?” The girl looks panicked. “I’m here to wolf out. If I don’t—”
Dr. Thorne holds up a hand. “I said we can’t simply set them free, not all at once.
If I do my job right, your powers will be freed in phases, like layers of an onion.
Once a week, depending on your progress, you will start your day with me, and I will peel away another layer of the problem energy. ”
He produces a crystal orb that shifts colors as it passes near each of us. When it hovers over me, it flares a deep midnight blue with pinpricks of light.
“Interesting,” he murmurs, making notes. He proceeds down the line, announcing each student’s status.
“Chen, Malcolm: Suppressed Affinity, Water, Stable.”
“Wolcott, Sera: Bound Transformation, Lycanthropy, Unstable.”
“Nguyen, Tristan: Latent Affinity, Earth, Stable.”
“Gonzalez, Elena: Dual Affinity, Metal, Unstable.”
Then he returns to me. “Hallowind, Poppy: Bound Affinity, Spirit, Provisional.”
I sense more than hear Wylder’s sharp intake of breath. When I glance back, his brow is pinched, and his entire frame has gone rigid.
I turn to Dr. Thorne. “What does provisional mean?”
“It means there’s much more to assess. I’ll work with you first, then if I need to circle back, I can give you more time at the end, if necessary.” He turns to the whole group and gestures toward the door. “All of you, come with me.”
Wylder pushes off the wall, following as Dr. Thorne leads us through a side door and up a winding staircase. We emerge into a tower room where the walls are made of clear crystal that refracts sunlight into rainbows across the floor.
“This is the Destiny Spire,” Dr. Thorne explains. “It’s one of the few places where we can safely remove magical blocks without risking you being overwhelmed or affecting the surrounding area. Miss Hallowind, if you will.”
He directs me to stand in the center of an intricate pattern etched into the floor. Wylder waits with the other students by the door. They all look as nervous as I feel, and I briefly wonder if I’m being sacrificed as a guinea pig.
“From what I’ve been told, you had a blocking spell placed on you when you were sixteen, and your affinity was never allowed to surface until recently.” Dr. Thorne arranges several bowls of water around me.
“Yes, that’s what I’ve been told.”
He finishes with the bowls and moves to stand behind a table with a tall magical shield. “Stand very still for a moment and we’ll see what we’re dealing with.”
As the magical energy in the room amplifies, the pattern etched into the floor begins to glow and shift.
The hair on my body stands on end, and everything in me wants to look down and see what’s happening.
But after his request for me to stand ‘very’ still, I’m worried there might be some kind of magical feedback if I move.
I draw slow, deep breaths into my lungs, and close my eyes to remain calm.
After what couldn’t be more than a minute or two, the hair on my arms relaxes and the magical energy dissipates.
“Well done, Miss Hallowind. You can come here and see your results if you wish.”
I hurry off the patterned floor and join him behind his worktable and magical shield. He points to what appears to be an ordinary computer screen, and I look at a series of images of wavy and peaked lines that tell me absolutely nothing.
“If we assume the spell was put in place soon after your sixteenth birthday, it seems it was reinforced yearly since then. Someone really didn’t want your powers emerging. And to do that to a young witch with a family history like the Hallowinds is both bold and alarming.”
Reinforced yearly? Who the hell did that? How did I not know that? Did Laurel have spies watching me? Questions burn on the tip of my tongue, but I refuse to go after Wylder within earshot of the others.
I swallow and curl my fingers into fists at my sides. “But you can remove the block, right?”
“I have yet to be bested by any magical block, young lady. Trust me, you’re in good hands. Come, let’s get started.”
I blink back to consciousness to find myself propped up on the mattress of my dorm bed. There’s a strong tang of blood in my mouth, and Wylder is sitting on the other side of me, holding a warm cloth against my nose.
“Breathe through your mouth,” he instructs, his voice unusually free of hostility. “Dr. Thorne stabilized the energy released from the first two phases of the block being broken, but you passed out and got one hell of a nosebleed.”
“Was the nosebleed because of what was done or because I faceplanted on the enchanted floor?”
“From what was done. You landed on your ass.”
“Well, that’s much less humiliating.”
He shrugs. “If it makes you feel any better, I think Thorne regretted having you go first because the other four students up for blockage removal didn’t look at all eager to go after seeing what happened with you.”
I take the cloth from him and shift to sit up until the room spins. Too soon. Much too soon. “And how many times will I have to do that?”
He sits back in the chair. “I don’t have that answer. The good news is that while the first time can really suck, eventually it won’t.”
“That was one hell of a pep talk.”
Wylder stands and pulls out his tablet. “Motivational speaking has never been my thing.”
“Look at that. We finally agree on something.”
He taps the screen a few times and frowns. “It’s almost ten. Rest for a couple of hours while I check in on some of my other charges. Get something to eat, and then we’ll head off to your afternoon sessions.”
I blink up at him. “There’s more? Doesn’t passing out and humiliating myself once already excuse me from further torture today?”
“Nope. And in the immortal words of Samantha Stevens, ‘Witches aren’t wusses.’ So, rest and regroup, and I’ll come back to get you at noon.”
I blink. “Did you just make a joke?”
He rolls his eyes. “It was more of a jab than a joke. I was telling you to stop whining like a baby.”
I stand corrected.
When he’s out of my room and the door is closed, I sit up and lower the bloody cloth as I look in the mirror. “Well, hell, that’s not disgusting at all.”