A creepy smile spreads across her lips, like it’s the first time she’s attempted one for the past decade.
“Thanks,” I say, reaching for the stack of papers.
Ms. Cain spins her chair, lowering it a bit so she can reach the floor, and walks around the broad wooden desk.
“Allow me to show you to your first classroom,” she says, stiffly walking straight out the door.
Clutching the papers to my chest, I grab my backpack and follow her.
She’s a full head shorter than I am, but surprisingly, the woman has some speed to her when not sitting behind her desk. It’s all I can do to keep up as she leads the way through the wide, twisting hallways.
Inside, the school is as architecturally interesting as the outside, and I find myself slowing to admire some of the oversize windows with stained glass art and interesting pillars or stairway embellishments.
“Try and keep up, Ms. Blackwood. This is a large school and without the advantage of the Witching Stick, you’ll likely be confused for quite some time. It will do you some good to find someone you can team up with who can show you the ropes,” Ms. Cain says. We pass a large open area with cushy chairs and she points in their direction. “This is the commons area. You’ll find students will mostly chitchat here, because the serious students tend to congregate in the library.”
She eyes some students lounging lazily in the chairs as we pass by and I can’t help but smile to myself.
“Okay, good to know.”
Ms. Cain stops abruptly, twisting on her heel to stare at me over the top of her glasses. “This school has its history, Ms. Blackwood. Be sure to bring your map with you at all times if you plan to explore alone. It’s not like you’re a clairvoyant or anything, I can tell that just by looking at you. Finding your way out of messes could prove quite difficult for you.”
My eyes widen at the seriousness of her tone and I nod in lieu of any other response. Not psychic. Check.
Sweeping her arm out, she points at the door beside us. “Your first period is in here. Intro to Essential Life Energies with Mrs. Karlgaard.”
“Thanks,” I say, stepping inside.
As I walk in, the attention of the entire class shifts from a woman with a floor-length dress and intricately laced granny shawl. Mrs. Karlgaard’s wavy brown and gray hair floats to her mid-back and she looks like she could make the pieces of the room dance with a flick of a wand.
She raises her hands to the class and turns to me. Her bright-blue eyes scrutinize my every move before they crease in their corners. “Thank you, Ms. Cain. You must be Autumn Blackwood,” she says, her cheeks transforming into pink mounds as she smiles. She walks around her desk, her finger floating down a piece of paper. When she’s satisfied, she scribbles something and looks back up.
I nod, and flit my gaze around the room. Every student in the classroom either has their eyes on me or is leaning to someone closest to them and whispering. The cliques are evident immediately, and I can’t help but feel extremely exposed. These people probably know exactly why they’re here, what powers they have, and why. Not to mention, the advantage of growing up around each other. Most supernaturals do.
“Okay, go ahead and grab a seat, Ms. Blackwood,” Mrs. Karlgaard says, waving an arm out in front of her. “We’re just getting started so you haven’t missed much.”
Whispers erupt around me, but I ignore it all and take my seat, thrusting my backpack into the space under my feet.
“Hi, my name’s Caitlyn, but everyone calls me Cat,” the girl beside me whispers as she ventures a tiny wave.
Her dark skin is in deep contrast to the buttery yellow shirt she has on and her black hair is braided in the most beautifully intricate way. She has an almost regal air about her, and I know instantly she’s well-liked. It would be hard not to like her, come to think of it.
“Hi,” I say, nodding. The morning sunlight streaming in the large picture windows sparkles in her dark eyes as she grins and I can’t help but return the gesture.
“Are you excited to develop your powers?” Caitlyn asks.
I nod, keeping my lips pursed, knowing full well what the next question will be. Explaining that I don’t know what I am yet is going to get old super fast. However, Cat surprises me by not even going there.
“You’ll love it here. Windhaven’s more than just a school, it’s really a close-knit community. We take care of our own. If you need any help with anything, just let me know,” she whispers.
“Thanks, that’s really—”
“Okay class, now that Ms. Blackwood is settled, let’s return to our discussion regarding the seven Chakras…” Mrs. Karlgaard begins. “Autumn, it appears you and Ms. Gilbert have already broken some ice. Why don’t the two of you work together for this lesson.”
“You got it, Mrs. K.,” Cat says, nodding and giving her a thumbs up.
Mrs. Karlgaard tips her head in acknowledgement, then turns back to the screen behind her. The juxtaposition of the old architecture with the modern tech screen in place of a blackboard is a little bit strange to settle into at first. We didn’t have such fancy stuff in Mistwood Point. The best technology my high school had was the old television they'd roll in for movie days and it was at least twenty years old and still used a VHS player.
I settle into the talk on energy work, healing via the Chakras, and more. It’s super interesting, but also clear that it’s a basic requirement for most students at this school. As the hour goes on—the ambiance from the school puts
