"Absolutely not," Aunt Cordelia said.
Cordelia, the most sovereign witch of her aunts, tapped a long crooked finger on the dining room table.
"It's already done," Beatrix snapped back. "I got permission to go to Monster High."
Aunt Cordelia did a dismissive wave. "Witches are forbidden from entering the school."
"Good thing I'm not a witch yet," Beatrix said.
"What's that supposed to mean, child?" Aunt Constance said, stirring a concoction over the stove that was supposed to be dinner.
"You three never let me practice witchcraft, so I'm as harmless as a human at this point!" Beatrix huffed.
Constance gasped as if Beatrix had just slandered the family name.
"Don't deny what you are. You've been destined to become a sorceress since your infancy," Aunt Cordelia said. "You're different from humans, whether you like it or not."
"Well, isn't it strange that a sorceress can't be trusted around magic until her sixteenth birthday?" Beatrix returned with a sharp edge. "You've told me countless times that all I'm good for is collecting slugs and picking mushrooms. So, like I said, I'm as harmless as a human right now. That's why Headmistress Bloodgood's letting me live on campus with Autumn, because I don't know any spells."
Beatrix felt a pit in her stomach at the half-lie she just told. Technically Beatrix did know some magic, since she'd managed to protectively charm her black hat.
But that was just luck. She'd tried dozens of magic techniques to make the hat durable enough to survive an explosion, and she couldn't pinpoint exactly how she'd accomplished it.
Beatrix lacked the knowledge and steady hand to yield true power.
While she could read potion recipes as well as any witch, wielding magic was a balancing act. It required setting the right intentions, mixing delicate materials properly, and preventing the spell from harming the user. Beatrix was inexperienced on all fronts.
When Beatrix was twelve, she'd attempted a sleeping elixir to knock out Aunt Clarice so she could attend a harvest festival with Autumn. But the elixir had backfired, and Beatrix had woken up hours later on the kitchen floor with a pounding headache.
Magic was both the greatest blessing and the ultimate danger to a witch. It needed to be handled accordingly.
"No matter how progressive this headmistress claims to be, they'll never accept witches as students," Aunt Cordelia said.
"I won't be a student. I'll be working there," Beatrix said.
"Working as that flimsy scarecrow's assistant?" Aunt Clarice sneered.
Beatrix didn't like the word "flimsy" being used to describe Autumn. Flimsy was a word for creaky stairs and ripped shirts, not her best friend.
"I'll be working as Autumn's student aid," Beatrix corrected. "I'm gonna help her around campus and patch her up whenever she gets injured."
This was the loophole Bloodgood and Autumn had negotiated. As a top-scoring student in her homeschooling program, Autumn was a highly-coveted applicant to Monster High. Consequently, Autumn had leverage in discussing the terms of her education.
Autumn had refused to attend Monster High without Beatrix with her to provide emotional support, so Bloodgood had agreed to allow Beatrix on school grounds as a part-time faculty member. Beatrix would accompany Autumn between classes as a student aid and would also have to serve food in the creepateria during lunch. These jobs would cover Beatrix's room and board.
According to Bloodgood, allowing a witch to attend Monster High would cause too much controversy, so making Beatrix an employee and an "emotional support witch" for Autumn was the superior alternative; a baby step to let the student body grow acclimated to a magic-user.
It would be the perfect opportunity to sway monster culture if Beatrix was well received.
In other words, she was a guinea pig.
"This is lunacy," Aunt Constance said, putting dinner on the table. "You're wasting your time at that silly school."
"You told me education is never a bad thing," Beatrix said. "The classes Autumn will be taking are the best—"
"Don't compare her useless high school classes to your mastery of the dark arts. They're nothing alike. You're forbidden from going. And as the creator and master of that rag doll you call a friend, she's forbidden too," Aunt Cordelia said, her words heavy and final.
"What if I promised to enter into a devil contract with no complaints?" Beatrix asked.
Everyone fell silent.
Beatrix didn't know where she was going with this. If I can get away from my aunts, I might be able to avoid a devil contract when the time comes. I'll be financially independent and living in New Salem when I turn sixteen, far from the farm. They can't reach me there.
Beatrix pressed on, lying through her teeth. "If you let me go to Monster High for one semester, I'll sign my soul away without any issues on my birthday. I'll come back and be compliant with my devil familiar. I promise."
The room grew darker around Beatrix, the candles around them fading.
There was a hard glare in Cordelia's eyes.
"You threaten to cast aside your oaths so easily?" Aunt Cordelia uttered.
Beatrix gulped. "I haven't taken any oaths yet—"
"You have an opportunity to serve the most powerful devil dynasty in the underworld. And you're threatening to dishonor them, to run away from your responsibilities when you come of age, if we don't comply with your demands?"
"All to follow after a scarecrow with stuffing for brains, to a school that disgraces our witch legacy?" Aunt Clarice added in disgust.
Beatrix didn't know how to reply.
"Maybe a semester away will do her well," Aunt Constance said, sarcasm dripping off every word. "Let our little niece see how the outside world treats her. I'm sure the students at this monster school will treat a witch as warmly as humans do."
That was Aunt Constance's way of saying Beatrix would either be back home or burned at the stake within a week.
