I zip up my coat as I walk down a gravel path, following behind Ruby. Light from the bait shop spills into the forest, illuminating a few yards out before it gets dark again. Ruby holds out her hand, summoning a small ball of yellow light.
“Whoa,” I say, and she turns, a small smile on her face. “That’s so freaking cool.”
“It’s energy,” she tells me. “You can draw it in and contain it like this.”
“I can do this,” I offer instead, holding out my hand. A small flame dances just an inch above my palm, flickering a pool of light around me in the dark forest.
“You’re pyrokinetic.”
“I think so.” I close my fist and the flame goes out. “I also might have almost burned down my garage last year trying to kill a demon with magical fire, so I’m pretty careful.”
“It’s a hard power to control. You’re doing better than some, considering the lack of guidance.”
“Thanks,” I tell her and summon the flame again. Hunter, who’s been in shadow form the whole time, shifts back into the shape of a German shepherd and trots along with us. The woods have, of course, changed over the years, but the overall feeling is familiar. My heart speeds up with anticipation and I know we’re at the location of the door seconds before Ruby slows.
My eyes focus on two large trees, both leaning toward the other. Magic aside, this area of the woods looks enchanted on its own. I blink and it’s like I’m back here with Aunt Estelle.
And I know the spell needed to get inside.
Chapter
Eight
Holy shit.
It’s exactly how I remember. The dark courtyard welcomes us toward large wooden doors, and torches line the tall, stone walls. Grim Gate Academy is a massive gothic-style stone structure, both welcoming and foreboding at the same time.
Once we’re both through the magical door, Ruby waves her hand and the bright blue light fades, sealing us inside the Covenstead.
“I can give you a tour of the Academy if you’d like,” Ruby says. “Though once you’ve graduated, you really don’t have any reason to go back. We do have an impressive library anyone from the coven is welcome to utilize.” Cobblestone clicks under her feet as we head toward another set of doors, which are open and next to a large fireplace with a roaring fire going inside. “If you’re called for a Gathering, you come this way, into the Gathering Hall.” She starts forward again, going slow so I have time to look around. The smell of lavender and sage hits me, and it’s just as comforting as I remembered it to be all those years ago. I peer inside the Gathering Hall, seeing rows of pews set before an altar of sorts, with an ostentatious stained-glass window behind it. The coven sigil, a triple moon, decorates the stained glass.
“The Gathering Hall is used for coven meetings as well as weddings or other ceremonies. The dining hall has been used for receptions and such as well. Most coven members get married inside the Covenstead.”
“Oh,” I say, my shoes skidding along the cobblestone.
“But not all,” she adds, probably due to the shock on my face. Ethan and I couldn’t get married within the Covenstead. He’s not a warlock. “Anyway, all the professors’ offices are that way.” She motions to the opposite direction we’re going.”
I turn and suddenly, I’m hit with a memory.
“But I don’t want to leave!” I yank my hand out of Aunt Estelle’s and cross my arms in protest. “I want to stay!”
“Anora,” Aunt Estelle hisses, face cross with anger. “This is not the time nor the place for childish fits.”
“But I’m a child,” I try and the corners of Aunt Estelle’s frown twitch as she tries not to laugh. “And I want to stay.” To further prove my point, I stomp my foot. “I like it here.”
“Part of it’s not up to me,” Aunt Estelle continues, coming closer. We’re standing in the hall and I can hear chatter coming from the dining hall. My stomach hurts both from eating so many frosted cookies and from laughing so hard. A boy named Devin enchanted an action figure to make fart sounds and had the entire table cracking up. “You’re a long way from home.”
“You okay?”
I blink a few times and realize I’ve come to a standstill. “Yeah. I just got a random memory of walking through this hall with my aunt. And, uh, a boy named Devin. He had dark hair and brown eyes.”
“Devin,” Ruby says as she thinks back. “Oh, Devin Murry. He was a grade below me, which would have made him in your year. He’s a professor here now, actually.”
We start down the hall again and the same welcome, familiar feeling comes over. “And now I’m remembering that I wanted to go to school here but my aunt wasn’t sure if she could convince my parents. They didn’t and still don’t know that I’m a witch.”