Broken Wand Academy Read online

  Based on my glances through the windows set into each silver door we passed, the first floor appeared to house classrooms and sterile, gleaming laboratories. Though, what lay down the other hallways branching off the main one, I couldn’t say.

  I peered through the window of a door on my right, expecting another classroom or lab, but the room on the other side of the door was empty, featureless except for a row of large windows that covered the entire upper half of the far wall. Some unseen force drew me toward the room, and I reached for the door handle. Just before I grabbed it, the sound of metal scraping across a floor echoed down the hall, replacing the sounds of student chatter.

  “Crap, we better hurry.” Leia jerked her head toward the increasingly silent room at the end of the hall. “Sounds like class is about to start.”

  “Yeah, coming.” My hand drifted away from the handle and I gazed back toward the strange, empty room as Leia pulled me along.

  “Late!” Madam Petrovich glared at us from the front of the large room, and fifteen or so students watched us from behind small desks.

  “Sorry, Madam Petrovich. Won’t happen again.” Leia grimaced at me and whispered in my ear as we made our way to two empty seats near the windows on the far side of the room. “It was funnier when she was just a head.”

  I had to fight like heck to keep from bursting out in laughter, but Madam Petrovich altered my mood real fast.

  “No sorry! Five points off final grade, both of you!” Her bushy eyebrows made her scowl both comical and terrifying.

  “What, five points? I’m sorry, Professor, but that’s rid” I started to object, but Madam Petrovich blasted over me with her booming voice.

  “Not Professor, Madam! No sorry, no exceptions!” She narrowed her eyes at me and pursed her lips. “Not even for very extra special Proteus. You think you are above everyone else Ms. Song?”

  My mouth hung open as heat rushed up my neck. Tears prickled somewhere behind my eyes, but I blinked and pushed the feeling down.

  “Good. The one reason you are in this class is because Professor Wallace insist Proteus take all classes with Department Heads.” Madam Petrovich paced along the front of the room with her hands clasped behind her back, accentuating her rigid posture. “But this does not mean you belong here.” She swept a hand across the room. “Everyone here is chosen as healer. Only students with greatest potential for healing magic are permitted to study under me.” She strode over to my desk and loomed over me with her massive frame. “You think you deserve to be here?”

  I looked away and started to shake my head, but stopped myself. A memory I hadn’t thought about in years came to me, unbidden. And like so many of my most meaningful memories, it centered around my grandmother.

  My middle school, like most, didn’t have a girls’ football team, but my dad had instilled in me such a deep love of the sport that I wanted nothing more than to play. So, in sixth grade, I decided to try out for the team. Everyone, including Dad, thought it was a terrible idea and laughed hysterically when I brought it up. Everyone except for my grandmother, that is, and her support was all I needed.

  At the first day of tryouts, however, I was alone, coming out of the girls’ locker room, when I overheard the coaches talking to the boys in their locker room. They said that everyone had better not hit me hard, and to just let me play, and to take it easy on me because they weren’t going to put me on the team regardless of what I did. Tears welled up in my eyes and I almost walked back into the locker room right then, but I already had all the equipment on, and their words had built up quite an anger within me, so I stuck around.

  In the first drill of practice, I lined up across from a boy about my own size. It was my job to tackle him, and his job to run me over. Just before the whistle blew, we locked eyes, he smirked, and I knew he wasn’t going to give me his all.

  But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

  At the sound of the whistle, I sprinted forward. Just before I dipped my shoulder to deliver the blow his eyes went wide, realizing what was about to happen. I laid my shoulder into his chest with everything I had, just as I had seen so many linebackers do on T.V., and the onlooking boys and their misogynistic coaches let out a collective groan as I lifted him off his feet and drove him into the ground.

  He gasped as I landed on top of him and drove the air from his lungs, and the boys all around us laughed and jeered at him as he lay there, trying to catch his breath. One of the coaches was even stifling a chuckle. I got up, feeling proud and thinking that I had proven all of them wrong. I thought they would all see that I belonged on the field and deserved their respect, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  The boy I had pummeled regained his breath enough to speak and called me all sorts of names—freak, tomboy, dike, and worse names that I didn’t even know the meanings of back then. Instead of defending me, the other boys laughed at me, and a few even joined in. I ran back to the girls’ locker room and stripped off the pads as fast as I could, stashing them in a locker and resolving to never go back.

  I rushed to my grandmother’s house and burst into tears as soon as I was inside. She collected me from the entryway and brought me into the kitchen, and after she plied me relentlessly with tea and dumplings, I finally told her what had happened. Her face hardened, and she spoke with an intensity that I rarely saw in my sweet, patient grandmother.

  “Meena, don’t ever let someone tell you where you belong.” She knelt down to my level and took my hands in hers. “Wherever you find yourself, never forget: you have a right to be there, just as much as anyone else. Never be ashamed to occupy your space. You deserve the world.”

  I went back to tryouts the next day and played as hard as I could. It turns out that a few of the boys thought it was pretty cool that I wanted to play football, and they respected me enough to play hard against me in drills. I didn’t make end up making the team, as I knew I probably wouldn’t, but one of the boys that was nice to me was Eric, and we’ve been friends ever since, so I never forgot my Grandmother’s advice.

  Tears threatened behind my eyes again as Madam Petrovich loomed over me, only this time they were not brought on by shame or embarrassment, but by the memory of my grandmother’s unconditional love and support. I swallowed the lump in my throat and lifted my chin to meet Petrovich’s eyes.

  “I do.” I held her gaze for a long moment as she regarded me with faint amusement.

  “I guess we find out.” Finally, she broke eye contact as she shrugged and turned back toward the front of the room. “Anyway, welcome class, to Basics of Restoration. Show of hands, who knows CPR?” She surveyed the students, several of whom had their hands raised.

  I raised my own hand reluctantly, hesitant to draw any further attention to myself. But I had taken a CPR class for a summer job as a camp counselor one year, and I wasn’t about to dumb myself down on anyone’s account. Petrovich raised an eyebrow at me, but it was impossible to tell if she was surprised or simply annoyed.

  “This is good. For first few weeks of class, we will learn first-aid basics.” Groans issued throughout the room, but Petrovich ignored them as she continued. “Even magical healing is no substitute for quality assessment and resuscitation skills.”

  “Some ally,” I whispered to Leia as Petrovich turned away to write on the chalkboard behind her.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I may have misjudged her.” Leia shrugged and gave a mirthless smile. “Can’t win ‘em all, right?”

  “Yeah, or any of them.” We snickered quietly, but apparently not quietly enough, because Madam Petrovich shot a withering look in our direction as she began to explain the first steps in assessing whether a subject was in need of CPR.

  If the start of my first class was any indication of what was to come, it was going to be a very long semester.

  Chapter 3

  Leia and I filed out of Madam Petrovich’s classroom with the rest of the students two hours later. Leia seemed to have enjoyed the lesson,
but I found that I was quite disappointed. Of course I hadn’t enjoyed being chastised and shamed in front of everyone at the start of class, but more than that, the rest of class was just so… ordinary.

  We didn’t learn anything that couldn’t be learned in a basic first-aid/CPR course, and the only magic I saw was when Madam Petrovich’s chalk continued to scribble notes on the board while she was otherwise occupied with a CPR dummy. It was definitely cool, definitely magical, but not exactly mind-blowing after what I’d seen in the last two days. Leia did not share my skepticism.

  “Wow, can you believe we get to study under her?” She turned to me, her eyes wide as we shuffled down the hall with the other students from class. “I mean, over thirty years of experience serving in the medical profession, from field nurse for the Soviet military to working with Syrian refugees to a World Health Organization coordinator—what an amazing woman!”

  “Yeah, she’s amazing, all right.” I didn’t want to rain on Leia’s joy, but I couldn’t help my flat tone.

  “Ah, I know she wasn’t really super nice to us.” She grimaced and put her hand on my shoulder. “Well, particularly to you, I guess. I mean, I really don’t know what all that ‘entitled Proteus’ stuff was about.” She shrugged. “But I’m sure she’ll come around once she realizes what an incredible witch you are. I’m one hundred percent positive she’ll see that you totally belong in her class. No doubt.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I winced, reluctant to disrupt Leia’s enthusiasm. “No offense, I just thought the class was kind of… boring? Like, I expected to be learning magic, I guess. After the initial shock of coming here, the class just seemed so ordinary, you know?”

  She spit out a short, loud laugh. “Fair enough. It probably wasn’t the most exhilarating introduction to the world of magical medicine. It’s possible that I’m sporting my rose-colored glasses here.” She twirled around the mostly empty hallway, the other students having outpaced us to the front door of the Nightingale building. “But I’m just so happy to be studying as a healer.” Her face glowed with true exuberance, and I felt a pang of jealousy at her confidence and unreserved joy. “I was terrified I’d be chosen by the Department of Elemental Magic.” Her eyes went wide as her joyful expression gave way to one of relief and trepidation.

  “Terrified, huh?” I tipped my head and furrowed my brow. “Judging from other people’s reactions at the Choosing Ceremony, I kind of figured everyone wanted to be in either the Martial Magic or Elemental Magic departments.”

  “Ugh.” Leia groaned and rolled her eyes as we approached the front door of the building. “That’s because people are idiots. A lot of witches, like regular humans I’m sure, are a bunch of combative, egotistical little tyrants who think magic is all about power.” She scowled.

  “Hmm. I get that about Martial magic, but Elemental? I figured that might be like, I don’t know, peaceful and nature-oriented? You know, like, helping farmers with irrigation? Fire-fighting? Earthquake damage-control, maybe?” I raised my hands, hoping I hadn’t sounded too dumb. “Am I totally off-base here?”

  “No, you’re on the right track. Kind of.” She sighed. “Both of my parents are Elemental witches. Dad specializes in water and mom earth. That’s why I was worried I’d get chosen as one. They use their powers for good, to do some stuff like what you’re talking about. They’re not violent or power-hungry at all, very in tune with the earth’s rhythms.” She leaned into the door of the Nightingale building and the bright mid-morning sun greeted us with its warmth.

  “So why would you be worried, then?” I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the light. “Sounds like they turned out okay.”

  “Because they are the exception to the rule. The Martial and Elemental departments are the biggest and most sought after because that’s where the Academy funnels the most resources. Martial Magic has its obvious applications, but people gifted with control of one or more of the elements are useful to the Academy in other ways.” She looked off wistfully toward the quad. “From what I hear, the Academy has a certain tendency to use people’s beautiful gifts for ugly purposes.” She turned back to me, her usually bright eyes full of melancholy. “And I’m pretty sure that applies to the ultra-gifted, too. Like Drifters. Something to be mindful of.”

  Before I could respond, a flash of color brushed past me and Chancellor Singh appeared before us. The sun glinted off her gold nose rings, and she looked resplendent in a flowing gold and burgundy dress.

  “Good morning, ladies. Just out of our first class, yeah?”

  I recovered well enough from the shock of her sudden arrival, though her striking appearance still left me a little stunned. “Good morning, Chancellor. Yeah, we just had, uh, Restoration. With Madam Petrovich?”

  If I was a little stunned, Leia was downright stupefied. She stared silently at the Chancellor with her mouth agape.

  “Oh, you poor things.” Chancellor Singh chuckled with amusement. “Not too bored, I hope. She’s a wonderfully gifted healer, Madam Petrovich, but I’m afraid she lacks a certain, how do I say, flare?” She chuckled again. “Not exactly the most entertaining class, I’m sure.”

  “No, not exactly.” I gave a weak smile, hesitant to criticize Madam Petrovich in front of Leia after her effusive praise of the woman. I glanced at Leia to see how she was reacting to the conversation, but her stunned expression had not changed at all since Chancellor Singh had surprised us.

  “She is thorough, though, we must give her that.” The Chancellor winked. I felt as though I had missed something, but never got a chance to figure out what, as she turned to Leia. “Leia Barrett, right?”

  The sound of her name seemed to snap Leia out of her trance. Her eyes grew astonishingly wide and a massive, manic grin spread across her face as she laughed a little too loudly. “Yes, Chancellor!” She grasped one of Chancellor Singh’s hands in both of hers and shook it vigorously. “Oh my gosh, this is such an incredible honor. Incredible! You’ve been my role model since I was a little girl! I’m Leia! Leia Barrett! Wait, did you just say my name? You did. You knew my name. Wow, just… wow. Let me just say what an incredible honor this is.”

  She turned to me, whispering through a grimace as her brow contorted above her wide, panicked eyes.

  “Oh boy, did I say that already? I did, didn’t I? Lord, Meena, what is happening to me? I can’t stop talking!”

  Leia turned back to Chancellor Singh, whose hand she was still tugging up and down forcefully.

  “I’m sorry, Chancellor, I do believe I’m having a minor case of word diarrhea.” Leia finally stopped speaking, eyeing me with an even more horrified expression and silently mouthing, What is wrong with me? Her expression froze somewhere between appalled and enthralled. I could only shake my head, shocked at her excruciating bout of word-vomit.

  “It’s quite alright, dear, I’m flattered.” Chancellor Singh finally succeeded in extracting her hand from Leia’s formidable grip and rubbed it with her other one, clearly in some discomfort, though she hid it well behind a benevolent smile. “I’ve heard a lot of good about you, too, Leia. We’re expecting big things from you here at the Academy.”

  Leia’s eyes went even wider, which I would’ve thought impossible. She opened her mouth to speak, but Chancellor Singh mercifully cut her off before she could expel any more word-waste.

  “You and Meena will make quite the roommate pairing, I have no doubt. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Barrett, but I’ve come in search of Ms. Song today.” The Chancellor’s expression hardened as she turned to me. “Meena, would you please accompany me to my office? I’m afraid we need to have a word.”

  Chancellor Singh’s dark eyes bore into me, and suddenly I wasn’t so amused by Leia’s bumbling encounter.

  Chapter 4

  Chancellor Singh’s office occupied a large portion of the top floor of Harkness Hall, the same building that housed Professor Wallace’s office. The room seemed to stretch on and on, an effect compounded by its comparatively narrow width,
and the low ceilings lent the space an intimate yet mysterious air. Hazy sunlight slanted in through half-drawn blinds, illuminating dust motes as they mingled with the aromatic smoke drifting off of a stick of incense that I hadn’t noticed her light.

  The room was not necessarily what I would’ve expected based upon the Chancellor’s lavish dress and elegant manner. The dark wooden floors were mostly covered by worn, richly patterned rugs, many dyed with the same deep reds and golds that she seemed to favor in her clothes. More rugs and faded tapestries adorned the walls where they were not obscured by immense shelves overburdened with bottles and jars of myriad sizes and shapes, their contents ominous and unknowable.

  A long black table occupied a good portion of the space toward the far end of the room, away from the little sitting area that Chancellor Singh had led me to. Vials, beakers, and burners sat amongst scattered books and loose pages atop the table, and more books and papers were stacked on the floor around it. In fact, as I surveyed the room, I found that books and papers could be said to account for a significant portion of the room’s décor.

  The Chancellor regarded me coolly from a large leather chair behind a weathered wooden desk that was similarly cluttered. Though the general disarray of her office surprised me, given the Chancellor’s dignified demeanor and elevated position within the Academy, the space did not feel chaotic or slovenly, as do many cluttered rooms. Instead of implying disorganization, it gave the impression that this was a space in which important things were constantly being accomplished by someone with priorities that far outweighed maintaining an outward appearance of order.

  “So, Meena.” Chancellor Singh’s honeyed voice drew my attention back to her. Her curt smile did not reach her dark, piercing eyes. “I’ll cut right to it. I’ve asked you here because it’s my understanding that you removed your class ring last night without permission from either myself or your faculty advisor. Is this true?”