Professor Potsdam, Headmistress of Iris Academy, personally hands an official-looking parchment to each and every new graduate as they approach the podium. She delivers her speech while beaming at the class. Professor Grabiner stands beside her, along with three teachers I haven't had in class yet.
"May you talented, young and adventurous new mages of our society go out into the many worlds and seek that which is highest in your sights." Potsdam's voice resonates, clear and distinct.
Graduation day is really hot for early June; hopefully when it is my class' turn there will be a breeze to keep our dress robes from sticking to our skin. No, my graduation didn't arrive that fast; it's about two years away. I'm just lucky enough to be on the school grounds to see William and the other seniors go through their ceremony. So, I get to attend traditional commencement twice, which, for a nerdy Wildseed's research purposes, is a dream come true. Thankfully, the speeches are not very long.
I look over to see Donald looking at me with a small grin, tapping his watch with his index finger. With a smirk I mouth My lord at him. He supplies the other half of our new private joke with an imaginary hat tip and a silent M'lady. We turn our attention back to the ceremony a little more comfortable despite the rising temperature.
As it happens this is the last thing on my schedule before summer term starts, and Professor Grabiner made it mandatory for the students still living in the dorms. Otherwise, no one but the graduates and the few guests invited would attend the ceremony and one of the teachers would have to babysit us students. I suppose I have my parents to thank (indirectly) for the chance to learn more about how magical society functions.
I spent a marvelous night at the May Day ball, on Donald's arm – he told me he'd been practicing his courtly bow, so of course I didn't turn the guy down. We totally danced circles around the other attendees. Our date turned into late night bingo in our formal outfits, sprawled out on the floor in my dorm room with Ellen and Virginia playing for a little, too. The Headmistress caught me just as I was jamming the last of a washed-out pizza box (courtesy of William) into a small recycling bin. Why do they even have manual trash disposal here? Never mind, the heat must be making my mind wander.
Professor Potsdam informed me that my parents had called earlier that morning, and, unfortunately, I wasn't going to be heading home for another week. I wish I knew what their problem was, I really do. Maybe they're getting a divorce and don't know how to break the news to me? Nope. I shake my head a little while I think, trying not to fidget since commencement hasn't ended yet. My dad is a pretty frank individual. If they were divorcing, he wouldn't put that news on the back burner, so to speak. Dad would tell me as soon as I was in the car and our four-door sedan was rattling down the highway.
That's the only regret I have about leaving home; I've lost touch with my parents, and I have no idea what to expect anymore. But, this whole year – and Donald – was too wonderful for me to want to change the decision I made about being a witch…
I'm fanning myself with my hand and trying really hard not to start panting. I check my beat-up battery watch. It's only one in the afternoon, and there is no way the temperature rose that quickly in an hour. I look towards the podium and see Professor Potsdam cast a cooling charm on the audience. It causes no change at all, and I think I can see her frown. Professor Grabiner draws his wand, and a bead of sweat is running down his temple. I'd huff in disbelief it weren't too hot to breathe properly. Grabby? Sweating? Ha! He's never sweat when 'losing his cool' before. Oooh, I have to write that one down for Donald so he…wait a minute. Grabby's drawn his wand. Why-
I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that all hell breaks loose within the next three minutes.
Still huffing, I watch the ground tear itself open and swallow up the podium. The entire teaching staff falls into the abyss for a heart-stopping moment, only to levitate or teleport themselves out. I cut short my brief sigh of relief as I watch many sickly orange and purple…misshapen things crawl out from the abyss. I hear the screams of the audience closer to the podium as I fall out of my chair in shock. Professors Potsdam and Grabiner fire spells rapidly, the only source of light since the sky is inexplicably turning dark and stormy. I don't understand…
I see purple out of the corner of my eye right before something like hardened sandpaper wraps around my ankle. To my shame I panic rather than reach for my wand. It opens its mouth, and I see a pulse of glowing energy rather than tissue or bone. Donald appears like a ghost, firing a Blast spell with a single gesture and stomping on the hand of the screeching thing that had grabbed me. I hurriedly pull myself to my feet and aim my wand directly in front of me as I look over at Donald.
"Thanks." He nods.
The rest of the faculty, graduates and guests are firing off spells as the deformed creatures multiply, empty eye sockets glowing like beacons in the darkness. The Headmistress appears to have sealed up the hole in the ground, but an electrified hum announces the creation of a portal. I think I still see Grabiner, rapidly firing off an alternation of red and blue tinged curses. Others are creating what appear to be shields around the quicker duelists so they needn't waste energy on defense. Potsdam stills for a minute and then stretches out a hand.
"To the gymnasium, young students! Make haste!" Her voice booms across the grounds to repeat her decree, and then I am running through the confusing grey with Donald's hand in mine. We screech to a halt, another student ramming into us as we watch an orange creature block our path, hissing and snapping like a crackling fire. I hesitate as Donald unsheathes his wand, but an idea hits me suddenly and I turn my face to his so that he and the student behind us can hear me.
"Hold tight."
"Huh?" The student behind us wraps their muscled arms around my waist tightly and I wrap my free arm around Donald's waist. Home.
After all the deafening noise, the sudden silence strikes me as unnatural. The battle can still be heard, but it is distant. I realize my eyes are closed, and open them to see the door to my dorm room in front of us, the door to which I just successfully teleported three people.
"Holy-…ten merits!" Donald gives me a quick peck on the cheek once we've caught our breath.
"Thank you, Genie." It's Virginia's voice. Those strong arms were Virginia's? I spin around, and she nods confidently.
"Right. Let's get to the gym." We start running. We're almost to the staircase when Ellen's voice reaches my ears.
"What's going on?!" I gasp and start to run back towards the room. A piece of ceiling thuds to the ground with a smack behind me, and my friends are yelling.
"We can't get down the stairs if the roofs caves in!"
"Genie, come on!"
Ellen is leaning into the hallway, a book in one hand and a pillow under her arm. She'd asked and, surprisingly, received permission to be absent from commencement, not wanting to spoil the experience for when she graduated.
"Get those two over here! I built a makeshift roof to protect us from falling debris." I stop in front of our open door, and Ellen tries to pull me in. I twist my arm and grab her wrist instead, trying to pull her out of our room.
"This isn't a tornado, and this isn't an earthquake. The professor said to go to the gym-"
"Hurry!" Virginia shouts from the other end of the hallway. Ellen doesn't budge and starts to shake.
"The roaring sound, like a train, that's not-"
"No, and we have to go!"
"I-" Ellen turns back into the room, and I see her camera and wand lying on her desk, beside the pile of books, sheets and pillows where she expected us to sit. My heart sinks a little, knowing that she was deliberately experimenting again with something that could get her expelled. But we have no time for that. I see Donald push his sister towards the stairs and down the first few steps. She forces her way back for a quick hug, and then continues down the spiral staircase. Donald is now rushing towards our room.
Determined, I push myself into the room next to Ellen, yank the pillow out of her hand and lunge for her wand and camera.
"We have to go now!" I put her wand in her hand and reach for her wrist again. She jams the cheap plastic camera into a pocket inside her robes. We're rushing towards Donald and the stairway as another piece of ceiling falls to the floor. He's kicking the debris aside to give us room to run towards him, and then we nearly tumble down the stairs shoulder to shoulder. I'm weak in the knees when we reach the ground floor, but we're still running through the empty corridors.
As if our race couldn't get any more traumatic, another sickly looking creature is thrown through a classroom door into the hallway. Ellen screams as Donald and I step in front of her together, pointing our wands at them. This one isn't like the entities outside; it's a new, horrifying color. It's skeletal in appearance, with tattered wings and a pale, disgusting, glowing lime aura. Its gaze locks onto the three of us, but then its ribcage collapses and the creature vaporizes. Someone tall climbs through the gaping hole in the wall.
"Get to the gymnasium!" He bellows angrily before sweeping his cape around him and disappearing into the swirling grey smog and wall plaster. I turn to look at Ellen, and with a scream I realize she's run the opposite direction, probably in an attempt to take the long way to the gym.
That way will take her right past the thickest patch of fog, off in the distance where we can still hear screeching and the thunder of spells.
Donald and I are racing after her. The smoke is not as dark and dense as it was, and the dreadful cacophony of noise has died down. There is a little natural sunlight peeking through the holes in the ceiling when we round the corner. I catch up to her first and open my mouth to say something. She jerks in my direction, pushes me back around the corner and places a hand over my mouth.
Puzzled, Donald slides up against the wall and looks around the corner very, very slowly. When he turns back to us, he looks as grim as Ellen looks frightened. I'm staring at him, eyes watering from the leftover smog as he mouths the words Potsdam's office. I focus, and the thudding, shuffling and scratching sounds force a chill to run down my spine.
A crack echoes in the corridor, like a snapping bone. Ellen lets out a squeak, and I wrap her in a tight hug while trying to get a better look at what is just around the corner. To get to the gymnasium from this direction, we'd have to run through the courtyard. But first, we'd need to get by the Headmistress' office. Whatever is in her office is definitely not the Headmistress, and very likely unfriendly. I look at Donald questioningly, but he shrugs, unable to tell me who or what is messing around in the office.
We stand in the hallway silently, catching our breath. Though she's shaking, Ellen sets her jaw and gently pushes away from me. We both move towards Donald to peek around the corner curiously. There's nothing to see for a few long minutes as we continue to peer at the blackened office door. There's still rustling and frantic movement coming from inside the office as we observe the rubble.
"We could turn back, but we might have the exact same problem."
"We can get past whatever this is."
"We'll sneak up to the door and then run."
"Sounds like a plan." I look at Ellen, who nods in agreement. I step away from the wall first and tiptoe over the wreckage, towards the Headmistress' open office.
At precisely that time, the rustling stops and a boot steps into the rubble from the destroyed office entryway. I stumble back, and Ellen catches me and drags back around the corner. Slowly, the rest of the intruder's body appears in the hallway. I see the lanky long hair and the blue skin and know without seeing his face who that person is. With what I guess is a sigh of satisfaction, Damien Ramsay runs his hand over a large book covered in old red leather. Donald nudges me.
"Want to bet that that book is Potsdam's?"
"Let him have it. We're no match for him."
"Well I don't know what else we could do." Ellen sounds miffed, as normal a reaction as possible given the risky situation.
"He's not supposed to be here and he's stealing. That's two strikes." Donald glares.
It's too quiet as Damien runs his hand continuously over the book and stretches out his bat-like wings. The senior I played flowerstones with earlier in the school year is gone. He'd left, or been dismissed, in the spring. Yet here he stood, obsessively petting the book and looking supremely pleased with himself. The grey smog is clearing and there is no demonic wailing to be heard. I nudge Donald back.
"Professor Potsdam will know he's here. She'll be here soon."
"We need to leave." We're trying to back away soundlessly.
"I'm not stupid, you know. I can hear you BREATHING!" Damien howls into the hallway and we freeze. We're holding our breath now and stepping farther away from the corner person by person.
I'm the last to shrink away from the edge of the burnt corridor wall, but I see Damien inhale deeply, titling his head towards us. I've seen that gesture before. I shove my two friends as far away as possible and wave them back farther. Damien laughs, a high and unbalanced cackle.
"Marcella Eugenie Chiesa…cinnamon and vanilla, just like you always smell. How predictable." Damien cackles again after calling me out. Donald goes wide eyed at the implications and pats Ellen on the shoulder.
"Go for a teacher. I have an idea." There's a mischievous spark in his eye as he steps closer to me, and Damien stops laughing to sniff the air again.
"Ah, never alone, are you 'Genie'? You brought 'Jirsey Boy'." Damien sneers from around the corner.
"Really? 'Jirsey Boy'. One time I had to clean up after those animals…" Donald mutters loudly enough for Damien to overhear. He doesn't reply. I shoo Ellen furiously, and she teleports away before demon boy notices her presence. Donald and I shrug at each other, and roll the dice. We step around the corner carefully.
"So, what do you have there, Damien?" I take two quick steps forward and glance at Donald. He's also studying Damien's wings, and we both know they're not for decoration. One wrong move and he'll either fly away or attack. Okay, I guess we're going to stall the bad guy. I've never been scared on a level like this. Damien smirks like he can sense my fear.
"Forget to turn in a library book before you got kicked out?" Donald sounds so casual. I'll admire him for it later. Damien wags a finger at us and uses a creepy singsong tone to respond.
"Ah ah ah, I know what you're doing. But, I've got what I wanted and I really ought to leave before Petunia realizes what this is all about."
"Petunia? Tsk. You're pretty disrespectful for a total failure." Donald squares his shoulders, and I put a hand on his arm with my eyebrows raised. Now is not the time to antagonize a flying half-demon wizard. Another plan – this one is absolutely, completely crazy – pops into my head, and I try to school my expression as I watch Damien lower the hand holding Professor Potsdam's book. His grip is much looser on the book because his other clawed hand is resting on the wand at his hip. He's too single-minded, not a good multi-tasker. Damien chuckles, hopefully unaware of my new plan.
"She doesn't deserve my respect."
"The Headmistress is one of the most powerful mages of our time. Isn't that why you had to blow up half the hallway to get past her wards?"
"I breached them, in the end-"
"Yeah, and you're bleeding all over the floor. You're limping, and there's burn patches all over your skin and wings."
"That's inconsequential."
"If those creatures were your idea of a distraction, it didn't work too well because they've already been taken care of. All the staff will know you were at the school. They'll hunt you."
"Nevertheless, I've managed to outwit everyone. What does that imply about the academic competence of this school, hmmm? Think outside the-"
"Box." I finish for him as I come out of my abrupt teleport, wrenching the leather-bound book from his grasp and teleporting back to Donald's side in the next second. Shocked, we all pause simultaneously to process my actions. I'm surprised it even worked, looking down at the old tome in my hands. Its title is scrawled across the cover in cracked black ink, a language I can't read. Donald's hand is resting on my shoulder as he watches Damien, who slowly brings his empty hand up to his face and stares. He starts spluttering angrily.
"What-? How-…how dare you!?" The demon is gnashing his teeth and his wings are fluttering.
"Time to go." Donald forces me to turn in the other direction, his hand in the small of my back as we start running in the direction we came from. Damien howls again as we sprint, and I hear the forcible whoosh and scrape of debris across the floor as his wings lift him off the ground. With an unearthly howl of rage he's rushing after us, gaining on us. I close my eyes to focus for a moment with Donald guiding me, but I don't have the energy to teleport us very far. My eyes snap open as I stumble. I recover quickly, but that split second has cost us a couple feet of distance from the demon.
"Genie, you're freaking crazy!" I have to agree with Donald as we increase our speed and tear through the empty corridors, the Headmistress' book clutched tightly in my crossed arms. Donald turns back twice to throw a Slash curse at Damien, but he blocks them and continues his dogged pursuit. A rogue push spell takes out a sizeable chunk of the wall between us. An enraged Damien loses his coordination for a second, giving us more space, but he's alert enough to quickly curse the professor responsible for the blast. He hasn't given up the chase yet, the book means that much to him.
"Genie I'm running out of mana, I can feel it-"
"I know. Same." We run past the stairway to Horse Hall. I can feel myself slowing down, even though I'm fighting hard to keep going.
"Genie, teleport us back to the stairs?"
"What? That's all I've got left-"
"Just trust me." It appears I don't have a monopoly on insane ideas, but I reach for Donald anyway. Damien has caught up with us as we've slowed down, not even winded. Donald whirls us around. Damien reaches his hand towards my throat, glittering eyes so red they've swallowed his pupils. I close my eyes and we teleport behind him to the foot of the dormitory stairs. Donald pulls me up the first four steps quickly.
"His wings are too broad to fit inside the stairwell. He'll have to calm down and contract them before he can get to us."
"Smart." I give him a quick peck on the cheek as we force our feet up each stair as quickly as possible, breathing heavily after that terrifying run. We exit the stairwell after two flights and walk as briskly as possible towards the next corner, hoping to be out of sight by the time Damien reappears.
We don't stop to look for flaws in our new course of action. We aren't alert enough to stop for a moment and really observe the situation. Otherwise, one or both of us would have heard Damien trying to conceal his hisses before it was too late. We hurry to the other side of the building and round the corner to the only other staircase in this wing, only to have Damien lunge at us and knock us both to the ground. Our backs are pressed to the wall, and sunlight streams down on us and the devil through the intact window. There's no escape.
With a cruel smile, he tries to wrench the book out of my grasp as Donald throws an arm over me and kicks him furiously. The demon ignores him as his claws bite into my hands and he pulls me closer to him. The slick leather cover slips from my fingers. Donald and I desperately reach to snatch it back, and I grab a handful of pages from the inside. With a ripping sound they separate from the book.
At that moment, Donald pulls me closer to him, kicking at the demon again. Instead of ignoring him this time, Damien stomps on Donald's right ankle angrily, making him scream. The demon's other foot is resting heavily on my foot, preventing me from kicking him. Still clutching what's left of the bound book, Damien smacks me across the face and tries to pry the wad of pages out of my clenched hand while I'm stunned. Donald is pulling me closer again, and for a moment I think he's telling me to give Damien the pages. But he's trying to whisper in my ear.
"One last idea." He reaches for something inside his pocket wearily and suddenly we're falling backwards, like we've been swallowed up by the wall. I feel motion sick and shut my eyes tightly as we spin and flip in space. I don't open my eyes until we've landed with a painful thud onto the hard, dusty ground.
I notice that it doesn't appear to be daytime wherever we are, but there is still an impression of sunlight that allows me to see our new environment. I sit up carefully, searching the dirt and collection of dead trees surrounding us for any sign of Damien. The pages are still enclosed in my fist, and with a tired sigh I relax just a little. Breathing heavily, clutching his ankle, Donald sits up too.
"I don't know what you were saving that last trick until the last minute for…" It's difficult to control the flow of air through my lungs, and I'm practically gasping. He looks at me, and I continue.
"Thank you, though."
"Don't thank me yet. This was the last of the last resorts."
"But right now, I don't care." We pause and look around a little more. With a shrug and a shake of his head Donald chuckles quietly. I'm chuckling too when I see that he's also holding a wad of pages from the book that was now Damien's. For now.
"I got the first eleven pages. How about you?" I look at the foreign language handwritten on the large, crumpled stack of parchments resting on my legs. I count them quickly and then grin at Donald. I've bested him.
"Thirty-two of the last few pages."
Donald sputters into laughter that ends in another gasp of pain. Concerned, I roll up the leg of his trousers to take a look at his ankle. The wound is too new to tell if it will be discolored, but the area around the bone is really swollen on one side. I run through what little I remember of the medical encyclopedia Ellen had lent me one day when I was bored.
"Uhh, Donald I don't think this is a sprain."
"Definitely doesn't feel like it, doc-"
"Hey, don't get snippy with me! I want to help! If we wait for a bit, we'll have enough mana to heal it together."
"This is not the kind of place where you want to be staying in one place for a long amount of time."
"Wait, wha-"
"Come on. You've got to help me up." He reaches for my shoulder, but I scramble to my feet and cross my arms.
"As soon as you tell me where we are, I'll help you up. We can't navigate our way home if we don't have all the facts." Donald looks away bashfully and now I'm hopelessly confused.
"You're not going to like it."
"Seriously? Our location is the least of our problems."
"Well…actually-"
"Aww, come on-"
"Genie, you're not going to be happy with me." It can't be that bad. I square my shoulders.
"Just tell me."
Still not looking at me, Donald hunches his shoulders a little and mumbles.
"We're in the Otherworld."