3 Icy

She'd decided on 'Icy.' Not Icelyn, certainly not Princess Icelyn Phaedra of the First Royal House of Dyamond. She'd even chosen a witch name. All the most serious witches had them and she was going to be the most serious witch.

The only way to do that if you were fifteen years old and owned nothing but the jewels you'd been wearing when—

(Don't remember.)

If you owned some jewels, was to go to Magix and attend Cloud Tower School for Witches. Headmistress Griffin was happy to accept jewels for tuition and suggested Icy might want to spend others on appropriate clothing. Since Icy just had the gown she stood up in, now with the jewels pulled off it, this seemed like a good idea.

Back home Princess Icelyn rode in a carriage enameled cobalt blue with silver trim and drawn by two white hippogriffs when she wanted to go to the shops but here, icy had to walk. It was not far but she had plenty of time to think how unfair it was that she'd traded in her favorite ruby headdress and how annoying it was that she had to bother with things like this at all. But she couldn't learn to be a witch in one day so she had to have clothes to wear.

Soon she reached a shopping district. Girls who looked like witches were going in and out of a shop called Ferocious Fashions. Signs in the window proclaimed "We Have Amberzombie and Witch!" And "Be on trend on your broomstick!" Inside, mannequins were rocking fishnets, spikes, black lace and layered skirts. This was witch fashion but Princess Icelyn had ladies in waiting to pick out her clothes and didn't even know her own size. She stood staring for a moment then realized it wasn't witchlike not to know what to buy. The other girls in the shop weren't confused, they were judging the clothing on offer, sticking their noses in the air and commenting loudly to their friends. Icy didn't have friends but she could mimic. She drew herself up straight, a move made easier by her high ponytail, and plucked the nearest shirt off the rack. Decisively. She gathered an armload on the way to the dressing room. It was only when she was closed in the little room with mirrors that she realized she'd grabbed the royal house's colors of ice and cobalt blue.

But the clothes did something when she changed into the tiny skirt and tinier top, that Princess Icelyn would never wear, she felt… something. Witchier.

At the center of the shop was a big display of "Dorm Essentials!" like soap and purple socks and study charms and makeup. Icy loaded a bunch of stuff in her basket and, in a sudden rush of witchyness, slipped an eyeshadow palette into her pocket. Witches did things like that and she was going to be the witchyest.

And walking out with her purchases and her extra, it felt good. Something about that weight in her pocket made her breath come fast and her heart pound with some fizzy hot feeling she didn't have a name for. But it was the first thing that had felt anything like 'good' since—

(Don't remember.)

Back at Cloud Tower other students were arriving and the halls were filling up. At least Icy was dressed like them now so she fit in. She had time before the opening ceremony to put her purchases in her room.

She'd expected a whole room. She'd always had a whole room, several rooms in fact. But this room had three beds, three dressers and three desks stacked with textbooks. And two of the beds had suitcases on them.

It was horrifying! Icy was here to become the most powerful witch in the magic dimension! She'd have to read all kinds of forbidden books and do dangerous experiments! She couldn't hide all that from roommates!

Who'd probably be… well…

Witches weren't allowed on Dyamond so Princess Icelyn didn't really know what they were like. But everyone knew witches weren't nice. So Icy would have to not be nice either. And she should look the part. She got out the stolen palette and painted big swoops of color above her eyes like the other students she'd seen outside.

The dorm room had been empty but the hall outside was packed with young witches, with hair of every color natural and unnatural, dressed in fishnets and corsets and ripped jeans and tiny skirts. Some of them had used magic to grow tails or horns for the occasion. Their voices echoed off the high ceiling, happy shrieks as friends met up, curses over schedules, cackling laughter.

It was more noise than princess Icelyn had ever heard at once. It was terrifying.

And… interesting.

Icy took a breath and joined the flow of the crowd. She just had to follow along until everybody went down some steps, through a big door, and into the cafeteria. Which was a wonderful room, many stories high with tables on platforms all the way up around the walls. Everything was the dark stone Cloud Tower was made of so the room was shadowy except for the candles on the tables and drifting globes of magical light. Icy wasn't the only one gawking, and after a moment of looking up everyone who couldn't fly made a rush for the stairs, everyone trying to get a table as high up as they could by glaring at anyone who was already there. Of course the second and third year students got up top first and repelled the invading first-years with little zaps of magic.

Icy couldn't do it. Couldn't fly, and couldn't out-glare a pack of girls. She sat at a low table with a couple of other rejects and thought… Yet. She couldn't scare off a whole clique yet. She could learn. She want's sure how, but when she was a powerful witch she'd be on top.

After a few minutes, once all the table battles had been settled, the headmistress appeared on her own little balcony halfway up the room, just where everyone could see her. She really looked like a witch, tall and sallow with her hair pulled up in a pointed twist.

She looked like she had half a breakfast pastry on her head. Icy thought that and turned automatically to say it to—

(Don't remember.)

Headmistress Griffin raised her pale hands for quiet. "Welcome to Cloud Tower, most ancient school for witches in the magic dimension. These halls have trained hundreds of the wickedest witch es in all the realms! I expect all of you to live up to their example, raising storms, causing mayhem, and being no end of trouble for our rivalk school! To that end, classes start first thing in the morning so be sure to get some sleep."

Nobody cheered, probably because they didn't realize she was finished until she vanished back through the door at the back of her balcony. Then the tables sparkled with magic and food appeared. Witch food: grub soup and baked beetles. Icy looked at it with great uncertainty. She'd never seen food like this.

One of her tablemates, a chubby witch with black poppies in her hair, took a big bite. "It's good! Everyone on Lynphea eats insect food. But if you can't handle a little gross-out…"
Her expression dared everyone around the table.

Icy spooned up a grub and bit down. It wasn't awful. Kind of like an overcooked carrot. She could convince herself that's what it was. And this was what the food was going to be like for a long time. She ate another grub and tried not to think about mango ice and sugar-dusted biscuits.

As everyone finished eating, the dishes vanished. It looked like the surface of the table slurped them up. The witch from Lynphea jumped in surprise and tried to pretend she hadn't. Icy wasn't surprised; the banquet table on Dyamond had similar magic on it. She smirked. "It's just a spell that sends them back to the pantry. Nothing to worry about."

"I was not worried!" The witch flounced off.

Some of the other tables were still full, with cliques already deep in gossip and plotting. Icy was going to be a great witch, wicked enough to scare all of them… but she wasn't yet. She wasn't ready to deal with the whole school, not before she even met her roommates. Which she was a little worried about. What would they be like?

They were unpacking. Blasting witch music from a hovering speaker. One with sleek dark hair was paging through her textbooks, feet up on her desk. The other one was slamming clothes into her dresser and complaining at a volume to be heard over the music. "...and that total snooze Professor Bitterroot for potions! How are we supposed to become the wickedest by learning to identify swamp plants again-" She realized Icy was standing in the doorway and silenced both herself and the music.

The roommates stared. The sleek one with narrowed eyes and the noisy one scowling. Icy could feel their eyes taking in her stylish new clothes, swooping eyeshadow and silver hair in a high ponytail. She tried to look confidant.

After a minute the sleek girl took her feet off the desk and sat up. "Well you might not be completely useless. I'm Darcy, she's Stormy. And we are the wickedest students at this stupid school."

"We're going to discover the secrets of ultimate power."

"And rule the magic dimension."

The two of them looked at their new roommate.

Icy smiled. "What a coincidence. That's my plan too."