The Freedman academy was one such place. The huge, converted mansion sat on the outskirts of the nearby town, but the magical shielding made it impossible for humans to stumble upon it. Even if they accidentally ended up finding it, a dreadenchantment would fill them with soul-shaking terror and send them running.
“Ilovethese guest speakers,” Wendy said from her seat at the front of the class.
“Of course you would,Gwendolynn,” Carlos said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Does dear Uncle Balthazar tell you who’s coming in advance?”
Wendy gasped, her mouth falling open in horror. “What?Of course not. Balthazar is my uncle, but that doesn’t mean he gives me preferential treatment. And call me Wendy. You know that’s how I like to be addressed.”
The girl, the youngest of all the acolytes at twelve, was Balthazar’s only living relative, but she wasn’t here on blood ties alone. As loath as I was to admit it, she was the strongest magic user in the whole class, even outstripping Virgil. Her skin was darker than her uncle’s, but they had the same chin and eyes, though where Balthazar favored long intricate hairstyles, Wendy’s hair was always cropped close to her head. The girl was spoiled from being Balthazar’s niece and could be obnoxious at times, but she was a sweetheart. I tended to brush off her overeagerness. She was young and excited to learn, and she simply wanted to make her uncle proud.
Balthazar returned with an older man in tow. Omar’s bald pate shone under the lights, and a bushy beard covered most of his craggy olive complexion.
“Everyone,” Balthazar said, “this is Omar Darwish. He’s one of the world’s foremost authorities on the history of shifters.”
Almost on cue, all the other students turned to look at me.
Omar chuckled at the reaction. “Ms. Paolo, Balthazar has told me a lot about you. So excited to meet you. I have averyparticular affinity for wolf-shifter history.”
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” I muttered, feeling that familiar heat in my cheeks once more.
Shifter witches were rare. I was the only one in the academy, and that always made for awkward conversations, as most of the other students had little interaction with my kind. It was part of why I’d come to join the Freedman Coven. Most of my family had been wiped out by disease, and all I wanted was to bring some honor to our family name as one of its last surviving members.
The lecture was basic stuff I’d known since I was a small child, but the other students probably weren’t familiar with most of it.
“At what age do most shifters come into their powers?” Omar asked toward the end of the lecture. “Anyone?”
This I actually knew. I made to raise my hand, but Virgil’s shot skyward a second before I could. Gritting my teeth, I put my hand on the desk.
“Yes, Mr. Tacitus?” Omar said, gesturing to Virgil.
“Usually, shifters shift for the first time between nine and thirteen, with the average age being eleven,” Virgil said with a self-satisfied smile.
“Correct. Well done, Virgil,” Omar said.
Virgil sat back in his chair, listening with rapt attention, and I had to suppress an eye roll. Such a teacher’s pet.
“There are outliers, of course,” Omar went on. “Some shifters don’t change until they are beyond thirteen years of age.Veryfew do not make the change until close to adulthood, but that is so rare as to almost be a statistical anomaly,” Omar said.
Balthazar cleared his throat and shot his friend a look. He was trying to be subtle, but in doing so, actually made things more obvious. Omar paused, glanced at Balthazar, then back to me, his face paling.
“Oh! Ms. Paolo, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize?—”
“It’s fine,” I said, waving the comment off. “No big deal.”
Along with not being able to access magic until I was fifteen, I hadn’t shifted until well into my seventeenth year. I’d almost begun to believe that I wouldneverbecome a full shifter until it finally happened. Witch shifters were rare but not unheard of, but none had ever come to try and learn this style of magic, instead choosing to study the wild magics of nature.
“I think that’s enough for today,” Balthazar said, stepping forward to pat Omar on the back. “Thank you for coming, old friend.” He turned to the class. “Be prepared for a test on all that was discussed this week.”
With that, the students all gathered their things and rose to leave. Sophia, the twenty-one-year-old woman sitting beside me, nudged me with her elbow.
“Don’t worry about Virgil,” she whispered. “You and I both know he’s a dick.”
I smiled at her. “Thanks.”
There were almost four dozen students at Balthazar Freedman’s academy, but I didn’t have any real friends here. Distant friendlyacquaintances? Sure. A true friend? Not really. I found it hard to fit in with anyone even though I was, for the most part, on cordial terms with everyone.
The hallway outside the class was a vast, open corridor. Taking a left would have led me to the large training room, used for practicing offensive and defensive war spells for those wanting to specialize as battle mages. Taking a right led to the library, study rooms, research rooms, as well as the student quarters. The foyer, dining room, kitchens, as well as a few leisure rooms for the students to relax in, were downstairs.
“Hope you’re ready for that test, Veronica,” Virgil said as he walked past me.
