Good Morning, Darlings!

Welcome back, and for those just joining us, welcome!

Thank you to Mel and Gemma.

THREE

Bella

Ex hoc momento pendet aeternitas.

― Medieval Sundial

"Ms. Montgomery, we are now approaching our descent."

I looked up at the flight attendant as she carefully took Heidi's empty wine glass.

"Yes, thank you, Brigitte. Please confirm our transportation before we begin our descent."

The flight attendant nodded and left. Heidi looked at me. I'd spent most of the flight trying to lose myself in a book. Of course, the only one I'd had in my backpack had been the Spanish version of The Heart in the Garden. Trying to focus on a second language to distract myself was barely working at all.

"El Corazón en El Jardín," Heidi said, her pronunciation flawless. "How are you finding the original?"

I cleared my throat. "It's beautiful," I said slowly. "Translation, no matter how accurate, can never fully capture the essence or spirit of the original writing."

Heidi smiled.

"'Siempre es de noche para el corazón en el jardín,'" she quoted.

"It's always night for the heart in the garden," I whispered.

She nodded. "Cordova truly had a gift with words. It's a shame he has not written anything else."

I swallowed slowly.

"There's always hope," I told her. I was surprised by my own words. I wasn't an optimist; I was a realist down to the very core of who I was.

Heidi also looked surprised, because she nodded.

"Perhaps you are right," she mused.

Brigitte came back, and I turned my attention to my book. I couldn't read, but the least I could do was pretend to look busy.

Soon, Brigitte was leaving again and the plane began to tilt slightly. I looked up in alarm, but Heidi was busy, tapping on her phone, and didn't seem concerned in the slightest. I cleared my throat and tried to focus again on my book.

When it proved useless, I closed it on my lap and turned my attention out the window.

It was still summer, so no trees were changing yet, but the lush forests of New Hampshire were thick and utterly foriegn to me. I watched, mesmerized as the trees drew closer and closer. There wasn't a single rock or cactus in sight. I'd never seen a landscape so green before.

The trees began to break up and I caught sight of a large fence before a flash of black asphalt came into view. I leaned back, bracing for a landing I had no faith in. We were still going too fast; there was no way we'd make it safely.

There was a slight bump as the plane hit the tarmac and a gentle jolt as we slowed considerably. I glanced nervously out the window, but all I could see was asphalt and trees.

Heidi's phone chimed softly, and I looked up at her. She texted her response quickly, looking at me with a smile when she was done.

"Welcome to New Hampshire, Isabella."

I swallowed thickly.

"Where are we going?"

Heidi's phone buzzed again and she glanced down at it before answering me.

"I'm taking you straight to the Academy."

I swallowed hard and my stomach twisted into a knot. The Academy.

Could it be?

Before I could ask again for details about the school, the plane was coming to a stop. Brigitte arrived, offering me my backpack. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood, taking it from her. Heidi stood, sure and strong on her heels despite the several glasses of wine she'd consumed on the flight. She turned to leave through the door Brigitte had opened at the front of the cabin.

Taking a deep breath, I followed her.

It was so much cooler outside than I'd expected. Not cold, but definitely not Arizona hot. The air was humid, adding an annoying element to the weather that I hadn't counted on.

Humidity was almost never a factor for us in Phoenix.

On the tarmac was another white sedan waiting for us. The driver, another nondescript man, held the back door open for us. Heidi immediately climbed in, and I scurried behind to follow her.

"What is about to happen?" I asked, once we were both settled into our seats.

Heidi glanced at me.

"We are going to the Academy where you will sit for an interview. That interview will determine whether or not you are permitted to stay."

I swallowed.

"And if I am not permitted?"

She glanced at me but did not offer up any answers. I let out a short breath.

"What about my mom?"

"What about her?"

"Can I call her?"

Heidi's eyebrows pulled together ever so slightly.

"All that can be arranged at the Academy."

Her non-answers were stressing me the hell out.

"And if I do get to stay," I said, hoping to get more out of her. "What happens?"

She looked at me, her mouth pulling up into an almost frightening Chesire grin. "The world becomes your oyster."

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

…

Outside the car, some of the most beautiful scenery was flying by, and I couldn't focus on a second of it. My mind was racing, trying to figure out if I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life. Some rational part of me kept firm with that even if this didn't pan out, it was better to have taken a leap of faith to try to better my life than to stand still and eventually become my mother.

Most of me was now wondering if I'd live long enough to get the opportunity to become my mom. My mind kept running worst-case scenarios past me. If I didn't make it in, would I die hitchhiking back home?

"We're here," Heidi announced as the car pulled off the road toward an unmarked gravel path. I looked out the window, trying to determine where the hell we were, but everything was just green.

We drove for another mile or so until the car stopped in front of a set of massive iron gates. A guard in a light gray uniform approached the vehicle, and Heidi rolled her window down a few inches. The guard took one look at her face and nodded, moving aside to motion us through. The gates swung open and the car crept forward onto a smoothly paved road. I still couldn't see signs of a building—it was all forest. I was about to ask Heidi where we were, when the car turned a bend and a large stone building came into view. My breath caught in my throat as I gazed up at the baroque masterpiece. It looked like a castle that had been transferred brick by brick from some European nation. Large marble columns framed the entrance, and wide domed roofs shone gold in the afternoon sunlight. There were spires topped with cherubs and statues adorning multiple tiers of the building. Every window was carefully sculpted, and the upper windows were detailed with gold to match the roof.

"Welcome, Isabella, to the Academy."

I looked back at Heidi in stunned silence. Had we just entered medieval France? I didn't even know buildings like this existed in real life, let alone hidden in New Hampshire of all places.

Heidi climbed out of the car, and when a valet opened my door as well, I scrambled to follow her. She led me up the crisp marble stairs toward gilded double doors that were at least fourteen feet tall. Two men pulled the doors open for us as we approached, and Heidi stepped past them without a word.

Inside the foyer was round, with a domed ceiling that looked like it had been painted by a Renaissance master. It depicted some biblical scene, though I wasn't well versed enough in religion to know exactly which one it was.

The columns outside carried inside, creating a square within the circular foyer. On the floor was a stunning marble mosaic of swirling patterns that made me dizzy to look at.

"This way, please," Heidi called, already marching on. I scrambled to follow her, my eyes racing over everything on my way.

Heidi led me down a long hallway, and I paused, gazing up at the artwork on the walls. "This looks like Caravaggio," I said, my voice hoarse with my awe.

"It is. Please refrain from touching. It's an original."

I wanted to throw up. What sort of place just had original works by Renaissance masters on the wall?

I turned and hurried to keep up with Heidi, studiously ignoring all the other art and splendor around me. I was too overwhelmed, and I was about to head into an interview that could dramatically change my life. I needed to focus.

Heidi led me to another set of double doors, though they were significantly smaller than the grand ones out front. She stopped right before them, turning to me. "Go inside and take a seat. The headmaster will be with you shortly."

My throat was too dry, my palms were sweating, and I was pretty sure my heart was going to give out from how fast it was thrumming.

"Do you have any questions?"

I had so many questions—all I had were questions—but I shook my head because even if I asked, it seemed unlikely Heidi would answer me now.

She smiled a little. "Good luck, Isabella."

She turned and headed down the hall, leaving me outside the doors. I turned to look at the intricate hand-carved detailing in the heavy wood.

Flexing my fingers around my backpack strap, I took a deep breath and reached for a handle.

The door was heavy, and I hauled it open just enough for me to slip in before it shut again, shockingly silent despite its weight.

Inside the doors, the floor was thickly carpeted and the walls were lined with bookshelves. There was a tall fireplace across from the door, and above the fireplace sat one of the most intricate clocks I'd ever seen. It was gold and shining brightly in the filtered light coming in from the two windows that framed the fireplace.

Between the doors and the clock sat two wooden chairs.

I moved around the room, eyeing the books on the shelves. Nothing was in English, and I felt my stomach drop. There was a large dark wood door on one wall in the room, and I eyed it a minute before moving on. I stopped in front of the clock, gazing up at it.

It was beautiful, though slightly creepy as well. There was something not quite right about the expression on one cherub near the top. It was almost sinister to look at.

The rest of the clock was utter perfection, and gazing at it stirred something deep in me. It was a feeling I couldn't quite name.

The dark wood door opened, and I turned, startled to see an older man in a light gray suit step into the room. He had once had dark hair, though it was mostly salt and pepper now, and thick gray eyebrows over dark eyes.

He was of medium build and height, and nothing about him should have stood out, except he held himself with such presence, I would have had no choice but to notice him, even if there had been one hundred people around us.

"Miss Swan," he said, his voice higher pitched than I expected. "Welcome to the Academy."

I licked my lips. "I'm happy to be here," I told him, even though I wasn't sure it was the truth yet.

He smiled a little. "Shall we begin?"

I glanced once more at the clock, and the headmaster stepped toward me. "Ah yes, one of our finest pieces," he said, noticing my attention.

I looked at him. "It looks French," I said. "Napoleonic?"

He seemed impressed. "You have a very good eye, Miss Swan. It is in fact."

I turned back to the clock. I didn't have a good eye; I'd just grown up with a mother who would obsessively rant about clocks whenever she saw one. Old clocks like this in particular really set her off. She hated them, and she'd go off on tirades for hours if she could get away with it, complaining about the elite who poured money into such inane things when multitudes of people sat in poverty, starving and cold. It was the only thing I'd ever heard her really get passionate about, and as a result, the only clocks we'd had in our apartment had been on my phone. I'd always assumed she was crazy, but looking at this clock—its obvious wealth and value—I sort of got her rant. It was stupid to pour so much money into something that did little else than tell you where the sun was at in the sky.

"There seems to be a lot of French influence here," I said, glancing around at the books on the shelves.

He nodded. "There is. I personally prefer the Italian influences myself, but there are some things out of my control." He said it with a tight, tense smile that made me wonder what might else be out of his control.

"The Caravaggio?" I asked, because what did I have to lose at this point. "Was that you?"

He smiled.

"Indeed it was. I find his work to be most stirring, don't you?"

I thought about the painting outside the office; the chaos of angels and humans scrambling around. I'd seen the piece before in books, but I couldn't recall the title. Stirring was one way to describe the tension it brought me to look upon.

"Are you ready to begin, Miss Swan?" he asked, motioning toward his office. I stared at him. I got the impression we'd already begun the interview, but I wasn't sure how well it would go, pointing it out. Instead, I nodded, stepping away from the clock and heading into his office. It was more of the same opulent wealth as had been in the previous room. Books lining the wall, a massive hand-carved desk in the middle of the room, with a fireplace behind the desk. It was smaller than the previous one and it had a large painting hung over the mantel of a man I didn't recognize. It looked like semi-modern clothing, so I assumed it was someone related to the school.

"Please take a seat," the headmaster offered. I sunk into one of the thick leather chairs in front of his desk as he settled into the chair behind the desk. "I'm sure you're wondering who I am," he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. I didn't say anything. "My name is Aro Valencia. I am one in a long line of headmasters in the history of this fine institution."

I took a breath.

"I still don't know where I am." I pointed out.

He smiled. "Yes, of course. Well, I'm afraid that is our policy. Should you be admitted, you will be brought up to speed on a great deal of things, but for now, we require you to take a leap of faith, as it were."

"More than the leap it took to get on a plane with a stranger?" I regretted my smartass mouth the second the words were out of me. Thankfully, Headmaster Valencia grinned.

"Yes, just a tad more."

I swallowed anxiously.

"Miss Swan, this interview will be rather simple," he said, drumming his fingers on the desk. "We have never once admitted a student this late into their academic career. You will be unfathomably behind, should we accept you."

I folded my hands in my lap to hide my anxious fingers. "I'm an excellent student."

Headmaster Valencia nodded. "Yes, of course you are or we wouldn't have found you in the first place," he said dismissively. "But it takes more than excellence to thrive here." He paused, his dark eyes focusing on me as he tilted his head. "Tell me, Miss Swan. What is it you crave above all else in life?"

The question threw me so off guard that I blurted out the first answer that came to me. "Power."

I snapped my mouth shut, mortified at how candid I'd just been. I'd never admitted that to anyone.

Headmaster Valencia grinned, leaning back in his chair. "What kind of power is it you crave?"

I swallowed thickly. "Power over my life," I said slowly. "Power to be more than what I was born into."

It was a stupid, shallow answer, and I watched the headmaster's head tilt as he considered it.

"You won't catch up," he said slowly. I frowned. "There is no way we can fit a lifetime of study into your one year. You will never catch up."

"If I don't catch up, it will not be a failure to succeed on my end," I told him stiffly. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

I was too close to something life-changing to back down now. I had no more cards to play; I needed to expose my deck, to show him that there was virtually nothing I wouldn't do.

Headmaster Valencia smiled, though it held very little comfort or warmth in it.

"Those are dangerous words, Miss Swan."

I stared at him.

"Only if I don't mean them."

This time when he smiled, it was with a dark humor that chilled my blood. I kept my face as neutral as possible, willing myself to stay still, to show no fear.

"Miss Swan," he said, leaning toward me with one hand outstretched. "Welcome to Occulta Academiae."