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The banner that draped along the outside was further proof of our luck. “Drink Up Witches!” and “Witches Drink Free!” lit up the enchanted banner in screaming pink over the drab green cloth.
Jalen’s face lit up. “Witches! Maybe there will be a true witch among them. Maybe she is a Witch?”
Yes, my bones told me. A Witch. She had to be.
Rothgar’s growl tumbled into a soft purr. “I pray to all the old gods and ancestors that she is one. A witch for a night—”
“—Is an orcish delight,” we said in unison.
Most of the students at Elfhame Academy considered themselves witches. After all, anyone with enough belief could practice witchcraft. It was a common enough religion.
But it took more than a bit of wand wielding and reciting sanitized spells to truly be a Witch, with a capital W. One descended from gods and magic.
They were legendary...and rare. My uncle spoke of his one night with a Witch in the same breath as he did his battle prowess and sagas.
That would be us tonight for I knew in both of my hearts that she was a Witch.
We would worship her as her due, and she will be ours.
Chapter Two
DRINK UP, WITCHES!
Capricorn Jade
I stared at my phone in disbelief. My grad school prof had finally updated our class grades, and I got a C on the final. Not the worst that could have happened, but certainly not ideal.
“What is it?” Boudica asked. “What’s happened?”
I didn’t have the heart to say the words out loud to my roommate, so I pushed my phone in her face.
Boudica sucked her teeth, snatching my phone from my hand. “A ‘C’ is good, Capri! What are you going on about? It’s not like you failed.”
“It’s basically the same thing, though, considering my assistantship.” So much for creating new glyphs for my final assignment. Damned elves, always a stickler for traditionalism. Knowing that, I should have gone with the easy, straightforward answer. I couldn’t afford otherwise.
My assistantship was the only way I could attend Elfhame. It was nearly a full-ride scholarship. The only thing I needed was a B GPA and my mentor’s consistent progress report on me.
The only time I ever needed to be on campus was to help my mentor, Professor Snowden, do whatever he needed me to do. Apparently, as a purple-stoled, silver-robed sorcerer of the order of Merlin, the professor could not be bothered to look after his award-winning flowers. Evidently, a sorcerer’s apprentice filled a dire role in dead-heading herbs and watering plants.
I couldn’t complain. If that was what fulfilled the “teaching” portion of my teaching assistantship, then I would accept it for the gift it was.
It wasn’t like I wanted to be a teacher, anyway. My dream was to get in with Coventry, and be part of their groundbreaking New Magics Division. Having Professor Snowden as my mentor was my foot-in-the door, since he was on the internship committee and will be crediting me as a co-author for his next paper on the labyrinth and other magical sources.
Of course, I wasn’t going anywhere if they placed me out of my program.
Bo scrolled through my phone, and I was too crushed to care. “Here! Look, your final grade point average is still a B. Look! Isn’t that what you need to keep your assistantship? And your overall GPA is still a B+.”
I dragged my fingers through my hair, relief commingling with anxiety, setting my innards to flame. The B for the semester was the lowest B possible. It just kept me on the cusp of keeping my scholarship. Between my jobs to supplement my ability to eat and live, I barely had time to sleep, let alone study.
“I tell you, you work too hard,” Bo said, crossing her arms under her sizable chest. “Your curriculum alone is already a full-time job, and you’re working your assistantship and working here.”
‘Here’ was the Bespelled Brews, our local tavern with the best home-cooked food and private label drink. It even boasted luxury accommodations, though I wouldn’t know. I only saw them once, when Tia begged me to help one night when she was understaffed over the summer. It was so classy, I felt out-of-place cleaning the toilets.
Bo continued. “If you ask me, you need to blow off steam. Take time off work. Hell, get laid.”
“Oh my goddess! Sex is not the answer to everything!”
“Then you’re not asking the right questions!” Bo said, laughing at her own joke as I groaned.
