The Curse (H. Academy Series #1)

I aired out the hallway for the fifth time since we began this goddess damned project. The stench of herbs and compost was so strong that I feared my nose would stay permanently wrinkled. Amma ferociously stirred the greenish concoction in the cauldron and skimmed through the pages of her notebook, a bewildered expression on her face.

“These make no sense.” Morta read the notes I copied from my father, wholeheartedly ignoring Amma’s attempts at finishing our project. “Half of it is in Latin, and as you all might know, I failed Latin. And the other stuff is just names of stuff I never heard of. What the hell is a dancing plant?”

“Maybe you should help me instead of reading that thing!” Amma called for help and I jumped to her.

“Eh, I failed Intro to Potions, I wouldn’t be of much use.” Morta returned to reading the notes.

“What did you put in this?” I squinted at the thick, greenish liquid, trying to keep myself from breathing in.

“I literally followed the instructions Professor Lorenia gave us!” Amma’s voice was outraged, her green eyes turning darker and I saw the witch in front of me for the first time since we’ve met.

“It says it’s supposed to be of light pink colour.” I stared at the concoction. “This is not pink.”

“Maybe we should just throw it out and start anew.” Amma sighed and dramatically threw her hands in the air, dropping her notebook on the floor and letting the liquid devour the ladle.

“Jade! Jade, Jade!” Morta’s eyes enthusiastically widened and I immediately forgot about the project. “Look!”

She tapped the book with her finger and pointed to the familiar drawing. A pentagram, with one point painted black. The blood in my veins stopped flowing.

“What the hell?” I inspected the drawing. My father never said anything about this. Of course, he knew I had it on my wrist because it happened the moment I was born, but I never told him about the point blackening.

“What does it say?” Amma peaked over my shoulder.

“Solvo malitiam.” As soon I said the words out loud, a gush of cold air entered the hallway. Ice flowed through my veins, gnawing at my bones and my flesh. My magic responded and I felt it drawn out of my skin. A sleazy, liquid sense crawled up my skin. The same one I felt in the main hall before the black ooze attacked.

“Oh, my Goddess!” I shouted as I realised. My hands worked faster than my mind and I grabbed the pen, scribbling over the words as fast as I could.

“What? What?!” Amma shrieked next to me.

“The lighter, someone, fast!” I tore the page out while Morta leaped over to her bag, throwing all content out. The slimy feeling grew stronger, pulling at my magic, dragging it out of my flesh. Not understanding any of it, I lit the paper on fire and watched the letters burn.

“Get me salt!” I demanded once again. My magic calmed down and the prickling sensation of a possible attack ceased, but I wasn’t about to risk it. Fortunately, Amma had a bottle of salt nearby because she used it for the potion. I scooped the ashes of the page and mixed them with salt.

For some reason, salt was a strong bad energy repellent.

“What just happened?” Morta’s icy eyes more frozen than usually.

“I think we just avoided an attack.” I murmured, still feeling my raging heartbeat. I collapsed into the chair next to the window, trying to enjoy the magic-free air.

“There’s a lesson somewhere in this situation.” Morta put her finger on her chin and casually dropped herself on the chair next to me.

“What the hell, girls?! This is an obvious sign we need some help! I get that you,” Amma turned to me, “are hell-bent on solving this mystery all on your own, and that you,” she turned to Morta, “generally don’t give a shit about who lives or dies-”

Morta shrugged her shoulders.

“-but this is serious!” Amma continued. “We should tell the teachers and let them deal with it.”

“And tell them what exactly?” I cut her off. “That my father has a spell in his notebook that calls forth the thing that attacked us? Or that the same spell seems to be drawn on my wrist? Or the worst of all, that we stole his notebook?!”

“We should steal something else, too, like a titbit of information they’re hiding from us.” Morta suggested, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

“No!” Amma put her hands on her hips. “We should drop this. It’s too dangerous. You don’t want to be responsible for another attack, do you?”

Her words made sense and an ounce of doubt creeped on me. This was slowly becoming a very dangerous territory, something we weren’t quite aware of when we began meddling.

“I say we vote.” Morta said. “Jade and I want to keep going. Oops, two against one.”

“You’re being reckless.” Amma pointed out. “And I don’t like this.”

“Maybe we should bring in someone we trust?” I considered Amma’s concern.

“Like Thar Adara?” Morta eyed me.

“Well, it’s a start. I mean, he saved the entire Academy.” I shrugged.

“You don’t know shit about him. What makes you think you can trust him with something this huge?” Morta’s smirk pissed me off.

“And why should I trust you?” I fired back. “Your mother is the Chosen. Her middle name is literally Corrupted.”

“And your father has a spell in his notebook that awakens that thing!” Morta got up and clenched her fists. The anger bubbled in me and I took in a deep breath.

“I had nothing to do with it!” I got up as well, feeling my magic scream in my fingers, ready to come out and attack.

“Enough!” Amma’s shout interrupted us. “Seriously, what the fuck is it with you witches? Can’t you solve anything without the magic blazing?”

“I think this is the first time I’ve heard you say the word ‘fuck.’” I noticed, but listened and unclenched my fists.

“Or do anything that was remotely ballsy.” Morta murmured.

“Shut up!” I widened my eyes. “Someone’s going to kill you one day for your lack of tact.”

“That is the plan.” The deadpan expression she offered made me chuckle.

“What are we going to do?” Amma slouched into the chair and buried her face in her hands.

“You’re right, Amma, we’re in way over our heads.” I murmured, reminded of our situation.

I didn’t have enough time to process what this meant for me and my family. My father had a spell that called forth the black ooze and the same sign was on my wrist. Everything was connected to me and I had no idea how or what that meant. Swirls of emotions enveloped me, taking my heart for a spin, swinging it between anger, and dread, and betrayal.

I felt betrayed by my own family. How could he keep this from me? Sure, he wasn’t the greatest father in the world, but he still loved me, right?

“Maybe you’re right, maybe we should tell Thar.” Morta nodded, surprising me.

“I think you’re right, too.” I said. “We can’t know whom we can trust. But we can steal a titbit of useful information.”

“What’s your plan?” Amma asked, her eyes huge and doll-like. This was all too much for the girl that didn’t know witches and magic and demons existed three months ago.

“We listen in on their meeting?” I suggested, knowing that was a bad idea. But brain storming apparently helped in situations like this.

“Last time you listened in on the teachers, Thar caught you.” Amma reminded me.

“I can shield your magic.” Morta said.

“And who’s gonna shield your magic?” I asked.

“Maybe we should see what else is there in your father’s notebook.” Amma picked it up from the floor where I tossed it during the havoc. “Without reading anything out of it out loud.”

“Jade, wasn’t there your grandmother’s journal? I mean, that sign appeared on your wrist after her death, right? Maybe she knew something.” Morta reminded me.

“My father went through that thing in its entirety. And so did I later on. There was a bunch of notes on how to invoke a demon, but nothing about the sign on my wrist.” I remembered the contents of that journal vividly, it basically haunted me in my sleep.

“Maybe your father hid it from you?” Amma proposed.

“I guess you might be right.” I sighed. Of course I was angry because my father had that dreadful spell in his notebook, but a part of me was angry because of something else, too. If he turned out to be the mastermind behind the attack, he would be a villain forever. And I would never be able to leave his shadow. All of his wrongdoings would smoothly translate to me.

“We can’t know why he has the spell.” Amma smiled gently, reading the emotions off my face. “Maybe he found out something and was just about to tell everyone when you stole the notebook.”

“Thanks, but I doubt it.”

“We have to listen in on their meeting. It’s the only way to be sure.” Morta frowned as if in deep thought.

“There’s got to be a way to create a spell they can’t detect.” I muttered and just like that, a thought popped in my head. “When are the meetings usually held?”

“After class. It crossed my mind that if they were held during classes, we could probably use magic without the fear of being detected, because the entire school is beaming with magic during classes.” Morta said.

“Don’t students here use magic all the time?” Amma asked.

“Yes, but they detect magic based on proximity and strength. They would sense the difference between black magic right in front of their door and some chick using magical contraception on the other side of campus.” Morta puffed.

“There’s magical contraception?” Amma’s eyes widened.

“Every good girl knows one.” Morta winked and Amma blushed, while my mind explored this newly formed idea.

“Okay, but what if we generated enough magic to cloud their senses?” I asked.

“Black magic would still be evident. Thar and your father would sense it because it’s different than white magic.” Morta pointed out.

“You could do it?” I suggested and looked at her.

“Wouldn’t it be much safer if we used magic that was much weaker?” Amma voiced herself. “We could definitely hide in plain sight.”

“Like potion magic?” Morta nodded towards the cauldron.

“Oh, crap, we forgot about our project!” Amma jumped out of the chair towards the cauldron and stared with disbelief on her face once the concoction boiled. “Guys, there’s something moving in here!” She screamed and jumped away.

“That was not supposed to happen!” I came closer to the cauldron. The aforementioned greenish liquid turned brown, but there was something black underneath the surface, definitely moving. “Oh, yuck, what the hell?”

“What was this potion supposed to be for, anyway?” Morta asked and came closer, grabbing the ladle. She stuck it in the cauldron and tried to catch the thing that swam inside.

“It was supposed to be a pink, gentle bad-energy repellent! Not this brownish mass with an alive thing inside!” Amma cried out while Morta fished the thing out, with an insane smile on her face.

And there, on the ladle, calmly rested a fist-sized black frog.

“Oh, my Goddess!” I looked at the small creature. The frog seemed to follow my voice and it turned its black head towards me, letting out a gentle ribbit.

“Alright, I’m going to toss this thing out.” Morta grabbed the ladle.

“No!” Amma and I shouted at the same time.

“Woah, okay, chill, we’ll keep the frog.” Morta gave it to Amma, and to my surprise, the frog jumped straight into the girl’s hands and Amma didn’t hesitate to hold it.

“I thought you’d be afraid of frogs.” I smiled at Amma.

“I love animals, no matter what colour they are or how many legs they have.” She cooed to the frog and Morta and I exchanged a glance.

“Is Lorenia going to fail us? Or did we kind of pass, because frogs are bad-energy repellents?” I scratched my head. “Because I don’t want to do this again.”

“I’ll talk to Lorenia today, explain what I did so maybe she can tell me what went wrong.” Amma patted the frog with her finger. “I’m gonna call him Dominic.”

“Alright, then.” Morta made a cuckoo sign and I suppressed a giggle.

“Why is everyone saying that potion magic is weak? I literally just created a frog out of thin air.” Amma asked.

“Potion magic’s not weak.” Morta smiled. “I mean, most of it is weak, but it depends on the ingredients. There is stuff in the world that has more energy than elemental witches.”

“For example, you can do crazy things with control over earth magic. But you can only slow down aging using a potion.” I said.

“But, if we listen in on the teachers’ meeting, they won’t detect our magic.” Morta murmured, taking us right back to developing our plan.

“We would still need a surplus of magic coursing through the school.” I said. “We need to make students use lots of magic after hours.”

“What did you have in mind?” Morta asked, but a smile twitched the corners of her lips.

I shrugged, especially proud of my idea: “We throw a party. The lust charm alone will be enough to cover our weak, potion spell.”