Page 16 of Reckless Witch

Before a stage, red-cushioned benches are arranged in rows, seating about two dozen students. The red-haired woman standing on the stage before a blue velvet stage curtain facing the audience. Every head angles my way.

“Sorry,” I mumble, and drop onto the nearest bench, just behind Fran.

“Punc-tu-al-i-ty.” The woman on the stage enunciates each syllable as icy disdain rolls off her in waves. “Punctuality is key. Without punctuality, you will not succeed here at Illumina Academy. Rules are to be obeyed…”

She keeps going on, but she’s staring straight at me through her gold, horn-rimmed glasses. What the hell? Does she know me?

“Students, before we move forward with the ceremony, I must warn you against repeating to anyone outside these walls what goes on here. You are High Potentials, our strongest line of defense against any enemy. We cannot allow these enemies to learn our secrets.” She slides her gaze across the audience and I swear her attention snags on me. “Now, we have a very special guest with us today. It is my distinct honor to introduce the Grand Witch of the North herself.”

I stare in awe as a woman emerges onto the stage from the left. She moves with fluid grace, the silver cloak flowing around her like liquid metal. She looks like the legend she is: tall, long silver hair piled atop her head, and magnificent.

Grams had worshipped the Grand Witch with the frenzy of a zealot—a hero worship that changed three months before she tossed me out on my ass. By then, Grams had withdrawn from everything, starting with Olympia and ending with me. My troubles started the day I came home from school to find Grams swearing and tossing out every magazine, paper, and book that contained a picture of the Grand Witch. When I’d asked why, she’d zapped a bolt of lightning at me. I’d been too busy diving out of its way to ask any more questions.

“Welcome, all,” the Grand Witch says in a smoky voice, and lifts both hands. “I am honored to welcome each one of you. Thank you, Miss Mack.” She bestows a gracious nod upon the woman with the horn-rimmed glasses, then faces us once again. “The four clans welcome you. Silwood, Longhorpe, Middlewich, and Pencarrow. Welcome to our New York students, and a special welcome to students from Colorado, Texas, and North Dakota.” A few claps and whistles go up. The Grand Witch smiles indulgently, then continues, “Joining me today, I have Illumina Academy New York’s new Headmaster, Mage Edd Domini, and Academy recruiter, Commander Ethan Bordeau.” She turns to the side and claps.

Ethan emerges from the right of the stage and every female in the room straightens. It’s genetic, I suppose. He’s wearing black pants and a crisp, white shirt that can’t hide the lean muscles rippling beneath the cotton. I bet every girl in the room is mentally undressing him.

Ethan’s eyes latch onto mine and I’m tempted to point to his damn sigil with my middle finger. A corner of Ethan’s mouth quirks. To hell with it. I give his sigil the finger, but he’s already turning away. The new headmaster follows Ethan onto the stage and startling green eyes lock onto me.

I freeze. I have the strange sensation as if I know him. Have I met him before? Where? He’s tall, well-built, with stylish chestnut hair and a sinfully chiseled mouth that ends in a dimple on each cheek. He’s not the kind of man you forget any more than Ethan is. Headmaster Domini nods at me and I realize I’m not only staring, but my middle finger is still on display.

I quickly hide my hand and mouth, “Sorry.”

He turns away, leaving me unsure if he understood.

I wince. Great job, Leilah. Less than ten minutes and you’ve made an enemy of the guy who runs the school.

I hunch down on the bench as the Grand Witch waves at the velvet curtain behind her. The curtain pulls back with an audible whoosh to reveal a jagged block of obsidian about eight feet high and five feet wide.

My breath catches. This can’t be the famed Stone. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been a block of black stone that exuded magic like a live wire. I could fall into that river of magic and never come out. The Stone looks cold, but I instinctively know it warms to the right magic. I smile to myself. How interesting that the Illumina Academy of Light has within its gates a black stone, the embodiment of shadow?

As Ethan and Domini position themselves on each side of the Stone, Olympia calls a student by name to join them on the stage. When the student arrives, she speaks with the girl, but from where I sit, I can’t discern the words. After a short exchange, the student places her hands on the Stone, then Headmaster Domini escorts the student to the stairs that descend the stage as the Grand Witch calls out another name and the same scene plays out again.

A sense of discomfort tightens my belly. I wait my turn, and notice my ass feels hot, as if I’m sitting on a seat warmer. I shift my weight to cool off as my gaze strays to the shadows dancing in the room. It’s odd that the Illumina’s New Student orientation is taking place in a candlelit room. The shadows capture my attention and, once again, I find myself mesmerized with the many shapes; fanciful beasts, geometric patterns, and even clawed hands. It’s not until I discern the wavering form of a large, black spider on the ceiling over the Grand Witch’s head that I tense. Searching for shapes in the darkness isn’t exactly a pastime that’s condoned. I should know better.

Chapter Seven

LEILAH

Hot Pants

“Leilah Crowe,” the Grand Witch’s throaty voice startles me to attention.

There’s something in the way she says my last name. There’s a secret there. Normally, I find secrets interesting. Now, however, I’m not sure I want to know anyone’s secrets. I rise and hurry to the stage, too aware of Ethan’s piercing gaze.

When I reach her on the stage, she smiles. “Leilah.” Her expression is as sympathetic as the smoky overtones of her voice. “I’m so sorry for your loss, my dear. I knew your grandmother well.”

I blink, shocked. I hadn’t expected anyone to mention Grams, let alone the Grand Witch. She knew Grams? Grams never mentioned that. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. The Grand Witch grasps my hand. Her fingers are warm, strong, and she radiates a kindness that robs me of my desire to demand answers concerning the Illumina’s seizure of Grams’ house.

“Thank you,” I say as I shake her hand.

A tear slips down her cheek and I tense when her eyes search my face. “You have your grandmother’s eyes.” She smiles and I detect a hint of dry humor as she glances at the sigil on my hand and adds, “And, clearly, her passion.”

I jerk my gaze onto Ethan. Even as relaxed as he appears, he dominates the stage. An electric current zips from the hairs on the back of my neck to the base of my spine. It takes me a second to yank my mind back to the conversation. What were we talking about? Right, the damn sigil that has marked me as a troublemaker.

How do I reply? “Grams was special,” I say.

“Indeed, she was.” So many secrets swirl in her voice, but in a Grand Witch, that’s got to be expected.