Page 4 of Spellcaster (Weatherstone College #1)

My shock lasted a few long seconds. Refusing my acceptance to Weatherstone? Okay, someone better tell me who Rafael Kingston was, because that name had triggered Dad out of his sanity.

When my brain kicked back into gear, I raced out of the building and down the steps, following his path. “Dad!” I shouted—he’d

almost power walked all the way to the front gate. I cursed as my sneakers slipped on the paved path, which needed a blast

from an elemental to clear the icy muck slicking the well-worn stones.

“Dad!” I called again. “Come on. I’m not chasing you all the way home.”

His long legs ground to a halt, allowing me to close the distance between us. When I was almost at his side, I noted the way

his shoulders heaved up and down as he fought for control. He continued to stare at the gates, no doubt wishing we were on

the other side and ready to depart. But why?

“Dad, who is Rafael Kingston?” I asked tentatively when I reached him. My breath was visible as I watched students stream

through the gates, bags and suitcases in hand. “Dad, you’ve got two minutes before we no longer have privacy.” My voice wavered

a beat because I’d never seen him like this, and the longer he was silent, the more I freaked out.

“Rafael Kingston and I grew up together,” he finally murmured.

He shook his head as color returned to his unnaturally pale features.

“Come on, let’s get off the main path.” I followed him over to a large tree, one of the multitudes of ancient oaks that dotted the college.

Despite the weather, it was still a wash of gorgeous red and orange leaves.

“You grew up together...” I pushed.

He nodded, his eyes still screaming panic, even if his tone was even. “Our families were friends, and we ended up being the

best of friends. Went to Wintergreen together when we started primary at ten, and then secondary, before we ended up at Weatherstone.”

A twinge of familiarity filled my thoughts, as if I’d heard this story before, even though I was pretty sure I hadn’t.

“His son, Logan, is a few years older than you. Trev’s age. You all grew up together, but when you were four, tragedy struck

and Rafael’s wife, Isabel, was killed in the forest.”

A flicker of a memory joined that familiarity. A child’s face, arrogant and perfect, staring down at me. I’d... tripped

in the park. Logan. His name raced through my mind, and that one image, but there was nothing more.

“Rafael blamed you?” It was the only explanation I could muster for my dad’s reaction right now, since he wasn’t known for

losing his cool like this.

“He blamed your mother.” His voice was cold and bitter. “Isabel and your mom were best friends too, with all of us spending

our years together. They were in the forest on the day of the accident. The pair of them were avid hikers, always out in the

elements to test their power. Your mom said that she felt a spell and then was knocked to the ground, and by the time she

came to, Isabel was gone. They found her body a few days later. Rafael’s grief broke him. He accused your mother of delving

into energies she couldn’t control and drawing darkness to her. But that was his pain speaking.”

“Mom never uses her magic anymore,” I mused softly. Dad stared at me for a beat, and I finally put the pieces together. “ That’s why she doesn’t use her magic?”

She’d never told me explicitly why, just stating that she preferred to use her physical skills versus her magical ones.

“ Did Mom cast a spell or call on energy she shouldn’t have?” I asked, and then immediately regretted the question as a storm of

fury descended over Dad’s face. Shit.

“Of course she didn’t!” he seethed. “She was hurt that day as well and lost her friend. Since then, she’s rejected all but

the most basics of magic, and for a witch as powerful as your mother, that’s painful.”

I didn’t fully understand that concept yet, with my magic sporadic and uncontrolled, but I believed him. The essence of magical

energy inside was innately part of us. The part that separated us from humans, and to cut yourself off from that would be

like removing an organ—painful and debilitating.

“Okay, so Rafael hates us, and by extension his son Logan feels the same, no doubt.” I shrugged. “What’s the big deal? I can

ignore him for the year. We’re not even in the same grade. I mean, this warning is probably more appropriate for Trevor.”

Dad pursed his lips. “You heard Ms. White. He’s a spellcaster, powerful enough that they’ll have him teaching classes. You

have no skills to fight him, Paisley. You’re the baby of our family, and I won’t risk you.”

There was nothing quite like being called a baby when you were twenty-two, but I understood his worry. “Dad, I need to learn

and improve my magic. I need to discover my affinity and have a chance to apply for a coven. I won’t let this family steal

my future like they stole Mom’s magic.”

He growled, like, a legit growl, and since he wasn’t a nature sprite with an animal familiar, it took me by surprise.

“There’s a blood oath,” he bit out, sounding hesitant, as if he knew he shouldn’t be telling me this.

“Between Rafael and me. This is more than just a mere rivalry that you can ignore. Logan is going to hate you, and through his father’s anger, possibly try to hurt or kill you. ”

I just stared at him. “Surely Weatherstone doesn’t just allow students to wander around murdering each other...”

That was when Dad grew very still. “Rafael and Logan are spellcasters. I don’t know why they haven’t come after us before

now, but maybe this is a long-term revenge plan. Maybe he was waiting for all my children to be in our old college. I don’t

know the reason, but... I’m worried.”

“Maybe Logan doesn’t care,” I suggested, finding it hard to believe that this was all an elaborate plan. “What if I take extra

precautions. Like, I promise not to wander around late at night by myself, and you can magically seal up my room with protection

spells.”

Everyone got their own dorm rooms, and while the doorways were magically keyed to the energy of the student who occupied them,

all spells were breakable if you were strong enough and had the right tools. Dad was powerful though, so adding his energy

would give me another layer of security.

He sucked in a deep breath, staring up at the underside of the branches, like the answer lay there. “I’m going to discuss

this with your mother,” he said softly, “and whatever we decide together will be final. Until then, you can stay here and

start settling in. But if you catch a hint of Logan, you get away from him immediately. You hear me?”

The way he said final chafed at me, but it wasn’t worth arguing with him until I had his decision.

“I promise not to go near Logan,” I said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to remain safe and at Weatherstone.”

Dad didn’t look convinced, but he was calmer. “Okay, let’s go.”

We trudged back to the school in silence, joining the dozen students entering through the double doors. A few glanced curiously at me, noting that I had a parent with me, but no one said anything.

Dad led me toward a set of curved stairs at the back of the entryway. “You have a map in your welcome pack,” he said, sounding

normal, but I knew him well enough to hear the undertones. He didn’t want me here, and he was beating himself up about giving

in. “Which you’ll refer to a lot to start with, but here’s the basic layout. This main building is Writworth Hall, named after

one of the witches who created Weatherstone. The building behind it is Ancot Residences, named for the other witch. Ancot

houses the dorms, while Writworth has most of your indoor classrooms, along with dining and assembly halls, spell storage,

and more. Outdoor classes take place in one of the ten outbuildings. They aren’t named but are numbered.”

When we ascended to the first landing he directed me toward a set of gorgeous arched gothic windows. I glanced out at the

massive expanse of the school campus, catching a glimpse of the lake glinting in the dull winter sunshine. “Stay out of the

nature sprites’ barracks,” Dad said, pointing toward a row of low, wood lined buildings in the distance. “As I said earlier,

this is where they house their familiars, and you don’t want to unintentionally wander into a zoo without guidance.”

I’d always envied my sisters’ affinity and their familiars, inbuilt friends and companions for life. Unfortunately, I’d never

been able to draw a fly to me, let alone any creature with higher intelligence, so I lived vicariously through the twins.

As we continued, halls spanned in four directions, and despite the chilly day it was warm and homey inside. The stone and

tapestry decor continued up here, and the building’s innate power traced tingles of energy across my skin.

“This hall is referred to as the Zoo ,” Dad said, pointing out a tapestry of needlepoint zoo animals. “It leads through to the Ancot Residences. The quickest and most direct thoroughfare.”

We started along the Zoo and Dad fell silent. He held both of my bags, so I opened the welcome pack I still clutched in my

hand. Inside was a much larger brochure than the one on my desk back home. On the front in gold lettering it said, Welcome to Weatherstone College.

The motto and short bios of the founders, Writworth and Ancot, were detailed on the inside pages, and I decided to read through

all the information later. For now, I needed my dorm assignment. “I’m in Florence Wing,” I said, skimming the page. “Room

267.”

Dad let out a harried huff. “None of your siblings are in that hall, so be careful. All of the halls intersect with each other

at some point. Including Nightrealm.”

According to the welcome pack, there were five halls in Ancot: Florence Wing, Spectral Wing, Aura Hall, Ember Hall, and Nightrealm

Hall. Officially, your affinity didn’t dictate your dorms, but unofficially fire elementals, spellcasters, and necromancers

more often than not ended up on Nightrealm and Spectral, nature sprites in Florence and Aura, the others in Ember.

Hence why my father was a touch panicked about my hall intersecting with Nightrealm, and our newest spellcaster. “We’ll secure

my room,” I reminded him. “It’ll be fine.”

I really couldn’t imagine anyone holding on to a grudge for eighteen years. If they’d wanted to attack, it would have happened

long ago, right?

Dad huffed but let it rest again, picking up the pace, and I knew he was keen to get back to Mom and tell her what we were dealing with.

Realizing this might be my only chance to experience Weatherstone, I peered out of every window, examining the grounds.

The college was huge, and if I wasn’t yanked out by my parents, I’d no doubt be using the included map more than once.

My future hung in the balance, and it was all thanks to Logan Kingston. I hadn’t even met the warlock yet, and already he

was a pain in the ass.

That perfect, boyish face flashed across my mind once more, and I wondered what he looked like now. I only had fractured memories

of a child, and if fate was kind, his golden skin, laughing green eyes, and contagious smile would have morphed into a dull

blob. Maybe a beer gut. Crooked teeth and busted nose would be nice too.

The moon goddess would have my back on this, right? Of course she would.

Hopefully I’d be here long enough to find out.