Page 42 of Spellcaster (Weatherstone College #1)

I was dying.

Again.

Only this time the monster was me. Or my lack of restraint when it came to witch wine, to be more accurate.

A relentless hammer slammed into my head, pounding as my stomach rolled in ways that couldn’t be normal. I’d thrown up in

my trash can once already, leaving nothing in my stomach except the aftereffects of the wine.

“Fucking Hel,” I groaned. “What’s happening?”

When they’d said witch wine was potent shit, they’d vastly understated just how potent.

Bleary eyed, I pulled myself to stand, swaying for a second before balance kicked in. When I was sure I could walk without

vomiting again, I headed for the showers, and almost drowned myself for an hour, drinking water straight from the showerhead.

My body was so parched that no matter how much water I drank, my mouth remained a desert, and my breath could have melted

paintwork.

“How many times have you brushed your teeth?”

This question came from another witch standing at the sink, toothbrush in hand.

“Three,” I mumbled. “One for every glass of wine I had. It’s not getting better.”

She groaned, her blond hair lank around her face, dark circles ringing her eyes. “I know. Who the fuck let me drink witch wine?”

“I fully planned on stopping at one glass,” I said, giving up on the toothbrush because I was wearing my teeth out at this

point.

“I had four,” she choked around her own toothbrush. “And now I’m planning on crawling back into bed and trying not to die.”

Goddess be damned. “Girl...”

That was all I could get out, because three felt like death, so four must be way worse.

When I was done, I left the bathroom clad in a robe and slippers, my hair wet and stringy. The hot water hadn’t completely

revived me, but I did feel slightly more awake and alive. In my room I dressed in pajamas and picked up my favorite healing

clear quartz. Pressing it against my chest, there was instant relief as the pounding headache and churning gut eased.

As I settled into bed, someone knocked on my door, and with a groan I dragged my ragged ass off my comfortable mattress. When

I opened the door, Jenna, Alice, Trevor, and Jensen were standing in my doorway.

They looked grim.

“What?” I burst out, my hangover not exactly forgotten, but pushed way down. “What happened?”

“Dad’s been suspended without pay.” Trevor never was one to beat around the bush. He pushed his way into the room. “We need

to get home and find out what happened.”

“Suspended without pay,” I repeated, shaking my head. “What? Why?”

Jenna pressed her hand to my forehead. “I told you to go easy on the wine, Pais. You look like death.”

Waving her off, because we had far larger problems than a hangover, I repeated my question.

“The witch wine,” Jensen said grimly. I turned my gaze on him to find his eyes blazing, frantic.

The coolheaded water elemental was nowhere to be found.

“The chapel burned down last night, and they found out about the witch wine. Dad oversaw the event, and he was reported to the headmaster as having known about the wine and not putting a stop to it.”

“The chapel burned down...” I breathed, confusion adding another layer to the pounding in my head. “How?”

There was a brief flash of memory, that red against the sky, and... Logan. He’d carried me back to my room. He had to be

the one, because I’d woken in another one of his damn hoodies again. A factor I’d been ignoring over the more pressing need

of not dying from witch wine .

“Quite a few were injured, and the library was damaged down one side, but thankfully it was minimal,” Alice whispered, her

skin pale and dark circles ringed her eyes. I got the feeling hers weren’t from the wine.

“You said someone reported Dad to the headmaster. Who? A student?”

How could they have known, except if they were nearby when Dad sniffed my drink. Could it have been Logan or Noah? They’d

been behind me and had all the reason to want to destroy the warlock with a blood oath against him. Dad was the sole money

earner in our huge family, at least until the twins graduated. We’d be in trouble without his salary and benefits.

If that asshole had been playing the long game all along, I was going to fucking kill him. Later, though, because we were

heading home to see our parents first.

“Give me five minutes,” I said, shooing them out the door. “I’ll get dressed.”

Throwing on jeans and a dark green sweater, I swept my hair back into a ponytail and slapped on a little concealer for the dark circles. Stepping out of my dorm, my family stood stiffly in the hall, none of them saying a word. “Let’s go.”

Jenna set off first, marching through the hallway. “I’ve organized the transport, since Dad left early this morning. His access

to the school is revoked pending their investigation.”

I was freaking fuming at this point. Dad hadn’t been the only one in charge last night—I’d seen at least three other professors.

“Were the other professors on last night suspended too?”

“Only Dad,” Trevor growled, running his hand through his dark hair until it stood on end. “The others claimed they were unaware,

and since there were no complaints about them knowing, their word was taken for it.”

There were spells to determine if someone was telling the truth or not, but unless you had a court order, it wasn’t enforceable.

Those three probably allowed the truth spell, but Dad couldn’t, for obvious reasons. No matter what happened, he would look

guilty now.

Jenna picked up the pace, leaving the rest of us to rush after her. We made it through the college and out to the front gate

in record time. Students glanced our way, but most were as bleary eyed as I’d been not an hour earlier. Outside, a scent of

ash and smoke lingered in the air, mild, but distinct enough that I knew the fire had happened. As that scent settled inside,

dread settled in my gut.

I had a bad feeling about this. The sort of bad that could irrevocably change our lives. “Is there anything we can do?” I

asked, since my siblings were still walking in this unnatural silence. “Go to the headmaster ourselves and tell him that there

was no way for Dad to know. As the wine was spelled to look like regular drinks.”

The warlocks with the trays of drinks had it all worked out as well. They carried two trays with them, and any time a chaperone went for a drink, they switched out to the regular alcohol.

“We need to talk to Dad first,” Jenna said, her bite of impatience growing into a chomp. “Talking to anyone now could make

it worse for him.”

The gates opened for us, and when we reached the hut for outgoing travel, the panel was already geared to Jenna’s magic. All

she had to do was press her hand to it and the swirl of energy appeared. Stepping through, we found ourselves on the back

porch, where we usually transported. The back yard was private, the forest blanketing all sides.

The door was open, as always, and when we marched inside to find Mom and Dad in the kitchen, coffee in hand, they didn’t look

surprised to see us.

“Dad,” Alice cried, hurrying around to him. “I’m so sorry.”

She threw herself at him, as if she were a young child still, and he stood in time to capture her in one of his famous bear

hugs. Morris’s came close, but nothing compared to a Dad hug.

“It’s okay,” he said to her, voice soothing. He lifted his head and took us all in. “It’s going to be completely okay. This

is standard procedure after a complaint was issued, but I’m sure it’ll all be sorted soon.”

He sounded so calm. He looked calm too, with none of the panic I expected to see or hear in his words. Mom got to her feet

with a gentle smile. “Coffees all around?”

“Oh my goddess, yes,” Jensen crowed, falling into one of the dining room chairs. “I’m exhausted.”

Mom shook her head, but bustled around the kitchen filling cups for us, knowing each of our preferences for milk, cream, half

and half, and sugar. She knew I loved mine milky and sweet, and piping hot. She knew us better than anyone in the world, and

these little moments made me appreciate my family so much.

Showing our love through kind gestures was part of the Hallistar way, and with my hangover fading away with each sip of my perfect coffee, I gave thanks to the goddess for her blessings.

“Do you have a backup plan if they decide to fire Dad?” Trevor asked, nursing his cup but not drinking yet. He was the most

pessimistic of us all, and despite the relaxed atmosphere we’d walked into here, he wasn’t buying it.

“They won’t fire him,” Mom said reassuringly. “He’s worked for the college for over fifteen years, and he’s one of their most

valuable dual elementals. The headmaster will no doubt call him in for a meeting on Monday, and we’ll have more information.”

“Who told him about the wine?” I asked Dad. “Or more importantly, who told him that you knew about it and let it slide?”

Mom shook her head but didn’t look disappointed that I was ignoring her advice to let it go for now. She’d expected me to

dig further, and if anything, hints of amusement played around the corners of her lips.

“I have no idea,” Dad said. “I should have put a stop to it though. We’re lucky no one was killed in the fire.”

“Because of your father,” Mom added, bite coming into her tone as she defended her soulmate. “He wasn’t even on duty at that

point, but he hadn’t left for home yet. He felt the elemental surge and raced back to bring it under control.”

Dad shook his head. “It was magically enhanced, so all I could do was hold off the flames long enough for everyone to get

out with minimal injuries. But I couldn’t save the building.”

“You saved the library though.” Dad was a book lover, and he’d freak out at the thought of all that information being lost

to fire.

“Most of it,” he said with a smile. “But that building has many protective spells on it anyway.”

“Why didn’t the chapel have the same protections?” Trevor demanded.

Dad smiled at his son’s ire, recognizing the flames. “Because it’s a much newer building. The older ones still have the protection

of the elders. They just never get around to blessing the new ones the same way.”

“This fucking sucks,” Trevor groaned.

“Language,” Mom admonished. “Now, are you all staying the night?”

“Absolutely.” Alice crossed her arms, elfin features uncharacteristically stubborn. The rest of us didn’t bother to answer,

because she spoke for all on this matter.

After that was decided, further chat about the fire and Dad’s suspension was off the table, and we had a somewhat normal family

day. Normal, but with sharp edges hanging over our heads, waiting to slice through our moments of happiness. Mom and Dad never

let their worries show, but I sensed deep down they were putting on a show.

We weren’t little kids any longer, but they protected us as if we were. I guess we would always be their kids.

Later that night, I woke dying of thirst once more—someone had better hex me if I ever touched witch wine again—and headed

for the stairs so I could get water from the kitchen.

I paused when I heard voices.

“It’s going to be okay, Tom,” Mom said in a soft voice. Even knowing it was wrong, creepy, and invasive, I silently stepped

closer.

“If I lose my job, we won’t be able to afford the coven tithe,” he replied, voice rough. “And there aren’t many jobs available

to those without covens.”

“Then we get jobs in the human world,” Mom suggested, a hint of her inner strength in those words. “I all but live as a human now, and I can do accountancy and crafting anywhere.”

Dad’s laugh was strangled. “I don’t think there’s much call for a teacher in the art of fire magic out in the human world.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Mom repeated, and I wondered if she was trying to convince Dad or herself. “Let’s get some sleep.

There’s nothing more we can do to help tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll contact Blessed Souls and get some legal advice from the lawyers.

We’re not out of the fight yet.”

There was silence for a beat, and I thought I heard kissing, so I crept back up the stairs and went to my room.

I knew they’d been putting on a brave front for us, but clearly if Dad lost his job, life was going to get much harder for

the Hallistars. All the covens required a sizable yearly tithe, which was used to keep facilities functioning. This yearly

contribution paid for protection, employment opportunities, and a multitude of other benefits. Including medical.

Not being able to pay the tithe meant you were removed from the coven. They were all due in January, so we had to get this

dealt with before the start of the new school year.

Fucking great.