1
VERONICA
“Veronica? Do you have an answer?”
My head snapped up, icy fear lancing through me as I realized everyone else in the class was looking at me.
“Uh,” I muttered, eyes darting around the ornate room, looking from the hardwood floors to the velvet curtains, then finally to Balthazar in his dark, wine-colored teaching robes. “I’m sorry?”
Balthazar smiled softly as a titter of laughter rippled through the other students. Heat flared in my cheeks. I’d zoned out while reading the book on defensive magical spells on my desk.
“The question was,” Balthazar said patiently, “what would be the best way to orchestrate a binding spell on someone? Do you have an answer?”
My mind ticked through possible solutions, diving into past lessons, things I’d read, and spells I’d practiced.
“Uhm,” I said, giving another monosyllabic response.
More tittering laughter around the room. Even though these people weren’t kids, there were still some thingseveryonefound uncomfortable, like seeing someone else struggle. The laughter probably wasn’t spiteful—I had a good relationship with most of these people—but people were always relieved to watch someone other than themselves under the spotlight. No one wanted to be caught unawares like I had. If the roles were reversed,I’dprobably be the one chuckling uncomfortably at someone else’s awkward struggle and praising the gods that it wasn’t me.
The only person whodidlook pleased at my discomfort was Virgil. The man was every inch the teacher’s pet. First to raise his hand to answer questions, always complimenting Balthazar on his lectures and demonstrations, and ofcourse,the highest-scoring acolyte among the thirteen of us studying under Balthazar. Virgil gave me a self-satisfied smirk.
“Yes?” Balthazar said, trying to encourage me with a smile. While waiting for me to answer, he brushed his long hair back over his shoulder. His intricate dreadlocks clicked faintly as the golden bands and glass beads woven into his hair tapped together.
“Uh, I think you’d need to use a charm made from their hair, or maybe bodily fluids? Tears and sweat can work, but blood is better. Then, using that, you would create a binding spell. That would do the trick,” I explained, then frowned up at him. “Right?”
Balthazar nodded once, then pointed at the book on my desk. “Close enough. Perhaps you should pay more attention to the lecture than books while in class?”
“Sorry,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks grow even hotter.
“Here’s another one for you, since I have your full attention,” Balthazar said.
My face was on fire, but I nodded and smiled. “Sure. I’m ready.”
“A temporal tear, known in common language as aportal. Used to travel short distances instantaneously. What is something that can interfere with its casting?”
I had to bite my tongue to not sayuhagain, and simply sat still, my brain running a million miles a minute as I tried to come up with the answer.
“That’sveryadvanced magic,” I said at last. “We only studied it for a couple of weeks, I’m not sure?—”
“I know,” Virgil cried, thrusting his hand into the air.
“Go ahead, Virgil,” Balthazar said.
“Emotional distress,” Virgil said with a huge grin, beaming at the professor. “It can halt the flow of magic and negate a spell, especially one as difficult as summoning a portal.”
“True,” Balthazar said, and held up a finger in warning, “But don’t forget, a coin has two sides. Sometimes, a highly emotional state can allow you to access hidden stores of magic within yourself. Some witches have been known to cast spells far outside their usual abilities when faced with danger or in a state of abject panic.”
Balthazar launched into a discussion about the best way to hinder another magic user without using defensive or offensive spells. Even though he’d told me to pay attention, I found myself drifting off again, glancing around the room at the other students. All of them were magic users like me, but most had farmore skill. Some had a little less than me, sure, but most had more.
Part of that was because I’d been a late bloomer with magic. Most witches were able to access magic from a young age, though I hadn’t managed to do that until I wasfifteen. At least the academy didn’t discriminate against age. Magic wasn’t the only thing I’d bloomed late with, but that must have been my place in the world. Always a day late and a dollar short.
“All right, everyone,” Balthazar said a few minutes later. “Books away. We have a very special guest today. I’ve brought my good friend Omar to be our guest lecturer today.”
There was a dull rumble of groans at the mention of anadditionallecture, but most of it was good-natured. Balthazar rolled his eyes and flapped a hand at us as he headed for the door.
“Yes, yes, terrible, I know. Learning magic while regular humans are out there trudging along with nothing but computers and electricity to get them by. So awful.”
Everyone laughed at that, including me. Regular humans had no idea there was a whole world of magic and creatures all hidden in plain sight under a huge network of spells and ancient shielding enchantments. Those enchantments kept magical locations and cities obscured from humans. The things thatdidn’tstay concealed were covered up with bribes to humans in power.
