“A ‘perversion’ of magic? What does that mean? What do you know about magic?” I asked him. “You’re just a Norm like me, right?”
For a moment I thought I saw a look of alarm slide over his face. But I couldn’t be sure—as I mentioned before, it was really hard to keep him in focus for some reason.
“I’m just…stating what I learned in my Magical Studies class,” he said quickly.
“You take Magical Studies? Why?” I asked.
“Because I…want to know more about this world.” He gestured with one hand—the one that wasn’t holding a tray. “The Magical World. It’s one reason I’m at Nocturne Academy in the first place. My father is a Professor of Magical Lore and I want to follow in his footsteps.”
“Oh. Okay.” I shrugged, though it seemed strange. Not that many Norms know about the Magical World, as Bran had put it. I only knew myself because some unknown donor was paying to send me here, to Nocturne Academy.
I had no idea who my mysterious benefactor was or why they would pay the extremely expensive tuition to send a blah little nothing of a Norm like me to a magical school, but I wasn’t about to turn down the scholarship. The only other option for high school in the area was Frostproof High—a dusty, drab, D-rated school full of sullen redneck students who drove pickup trucks with those stupid fake testicles dangling beneath them and would rather be out shooting things in the woods with their shotguns than learning Trigonometry or World History or anything, really.
So, yeah, I was grateful to be at Nocturne Academy. Even if the Norm food did suck.
And speaking of the food, I saw that Bran had a scoop of the weird tuna-mango salad on his green plastic tray.
“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you,” I said, nodding at it. “You might really regret it later.”
“Oh, I wondered about that.” He gave the scoop a doubtful look. “I thought it might be some kind of regional specialty.”
“No, it’s definitely not,” I assured him. “It’s complete slop, but that’s what we Norms get to eat around here.” I shrugged sadly, indicating the vast stone Dining Hall. “Now, if you want good regional cuisine, you ought to come down to the I Scream, U Scream Ice Cream shop and Diner,” I told him. “I work there some days after school and most weekends—they make the best burgers and fries and shakes around. It’s not gourmet but it’s sure better than that.” I nodded again at his tray.
“Thank you.” Bran’s homely face broke into a smile. “I’ll take you up on that offer. What nights do you work?”
Oh crap—did he think I had invited him just to come and see me? And why did that thought make my heart start pounding?
“Um…” I was saved from answering by the realization that we were standing beside the Norm table and all my friends and Coven-mates were looking at us expectantly. We must have been walking while we were talking, though I had barely noticed moving, I was so engaged in our conversation.
“Hey Emmers,” Avery said, his blue eyes dancing, though he was careful to keep his tone light. “And who might this be?”
As if he didn’t know.
“Um, this is Bran O’Connor,” I said awkwardly, introducing him to the group despite my embarrassment, since it seemed I now had no choice. “Bran, this is Avery, Megan, Griffin, Ari, Kaitlyn, Saint, and Jalli,” I said, nodding at each of them in turn.
“I already know him from our wrestling class. Hello,” Ari said, giving a respectful nod and I remembered him saying how strong Bran was.
“Have a seat with us, Bran.” Griffin said formally.
“We’re a table of misfits but we all get along,” Megan offered, smiling.
“You guys can sit by me!” Jalli was bouncing in her chair as she indicated the two empty seats across from her.
“Thanks, but maybe some other time,” Bran said politely. “I’m actually scheduled for some extra study time with Mr. Barron right after dinner and I think I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.” He glanced at the huge clock on one grey stone wall of the Dining Hall. Its four quadrants were divided into the four symbols for the Others who attended Nocturne Academy.
There was a green and gold dragon circling around the number 3, a gorgeous flower with silky purple petals and a vivid green stem twined around the 6, a black cat was arching its back at the 9, and at 12, a single glittering drop of ruby red blood hung from the top curve of the 2.
“It was nice to meet you all,” Bran said, nodding at the table in general. He smiled at me. “I’ll see you later, Emma—maybe someplace with better food.”
Then he walked away to go dump his tray.
I frowned as I watched him go. He moved with a surprising, fluid grace that didn’t seem to go with the rest of him at all. In fact, none of him seemed to match his outward skinny, pizza-faced nerd appearance. Not his voice or his scent or his walk or the easy, confident way he carried himself. And what about that talk about the “perversion of Natural Magic” or whatever it was he had said? How strange was that?
What was going on with Bran O’Connor?
I wondered if I would ever find out.
3
We were all settled happily in the Norm Dorm, after an excellent second supper of roast chicken, (thanks to Avery,) when Kaitlyn’s pet chimeling started acting strangely.
First he started whirring around her head.
Normally at night, when we were all winding down, Mr. Seahorse seemed to get as sleepy as we were. He would doze on Kaitlyn’s shoulder, barely moving, his large golden wings fanning the air somnolently. Sometimes he even fell asleep right there and emitted the most adorable tiny, squeaky snores. This usually made us all laugh and he would wake up and chime at us indignantly before promptly closing his large, dark eyes and going back to sleep.
But not tonight. Tonight he was whizzing around Kaitlyn’s head like a whirling dervish, his golden wings flapping so fast they almost seemed to vibrate like a humming bird’s.
“Oh, Mr. Seahorse! What is it? What’s wrong?” Kaitlyn exclaimed, looking at her little pet in concern.
“What’s going on with the little guy?” Avery asked, looking up from where he was stacking our plates neatly in the wooden cupboard where he kept them when we weren’t eating second supper.
“Yeah—what happened to him?” Megan asked anxiously.
“I don’t know!” Kaitlyn wrung her hands in worry. “Oh dear, I don’t know anything about chimelings and Ari’s already gone back to the West Tower for the night!” she said. “Quick, Megan—get Jalli.”
Jalli had already turned in for the night but Megan went to get her. As a resident of the Sky Lands, where the little chimeling had come from, maybe she would know more about what was happening than the rest of us.
“What’s wrong?” She came out rubbing her eyes and yawning sleepily. But the minute she saw Mr. Seahorse whirring around Kaitlyn’s head like a crazy thing, her eyes popped open and she gasped, “By the first Drake—he’s spawning!”
“He’s what? What does that mean?” Kaitlyn demanded, sounding desperate. “Please tell me he’ll be okay, Jalli!”