Page 43 of Spellcaster (Weatherstone College #1)

When we returned to school for our last official week of college, I was midway through class on Monday when I realized that

in my stress over Dad’s suspension I’d forgotten to check out Gran’s letters.

Not that it was a huge priority, with my focus now on figuring out how to get Dad’s suspension lifted. My first point of call

was Logan fucking Kingston, but he was doing his usual elusive bullshit. I’d even knocked on his door last night, but there

had been no answer.

“Ms. Hallistar, you’re not focusing,” Professor Damone admonished as she walked past.

I’d moved on from fanning the flames of a candle out to lifting the lighter and lighting the wick all with my energy. I could

manage it quite easily now. Logan, for all his annoyances, had succeeded in forcing my focus.

Focus and ability went hand in hand, and in most of my classes now I demonstrated moderate aptitude with that affinity. All

of the affinities.

The professor paused as I lifted the lighter with ease and lit the candle before sending a puff of wind across to extinguish

it. “Are you progressing this way with all the other elements?” she asked, and I nodded.

“Yes. Strangely, it’s all clicked into place recently. I’m moving ahead finally.”

She pursed her lips. “Interesting.” With a sudden flick of her head, she waved her hand. “Marcus, come here, please.”

Outside of a few polite words, Marcus and I had barely spoken in months, but I was aware that he’d been officially claimed

as a spellcaster, one who showed promising growth as a powerful warlock. “Professor. Paisley,” he said, flashing us a polite

smile.

“Marcus, I’d like you to shadow Paisley here through her classes for the remainder of the week. She’s showing signs of being

a late-developing spellcaster who needs to learn how to manage her magic. It would be helpful, as a fellow emerging spellcaster,

if you could give us a report on what you notice so we can discuss amongst the professors.”

I wanted to protest, because it felt weird to be assessed by a fellow first-year, but I was worried that if I did, they’d

ask Logan, and I’d be stuck trying not to murder him for eight hours a day. I needed to talk to him, but I didn’t want to

see him more than that.

Liar.

Shut up, Inner Voice, you horny bitch.

“Though,” Marcus said, and to my surprise, he didn’t sound annoyed. “I’ve wrapped most of my end-of-year assessments, and

Paisley is great company.”

I shot him a grateful grin; he was clearly going out of his way to not make me feel like a child with a babysitter. Professor

Damone nodded. “Paisley has most of her assessments on Friday. We’re giving her as much time as possible to control and release

her power. We’ll make the final judgment about her affinity in the assessment and be able to assign her classes for next year.”

The final assessment was when we were tested on our affinity.

It was undertaken at any point in October, and many had already completed theirs and were moving into different classes as a prelude to next year.

Hence why none of my friends were in this class with me today.

Marcus was only here because he was helping Professor Damone with another group.

Marcus returned to his group for the rest of the class but found me just as the bell rang. “Okay, so what’s next for you?”

“Normally history, but because all non-assessment classes are done, it’ll be our water elemental class by the lake.”

“So, we’ve got a few hours,” Marcus said with a nod.

“I planned on practicing for the assessment. It’s crept up on me, what with all the... shit going on.”

The smile faded slowly from his face. “I’m really sorry about your dad, Paisley. If it’s any consolation, I think this was

an unfair and out-of-line punishment, considering he wasn’t the only chaperone.”

I agreed, but as my throat grew tighter, I decided I really didn’t want to talk about this today. I had to focus on assessment,

or I wouldn’t even be here next year.

“You up to helping me run through the affinities?”

Marcus smiled. “Absolutely! Lead the way.”

I nodded, before the niggling in my chest forced me to say, “Actually, would you mind terribly if I ran a quick errand first.

I can meet you at the lake in, like, twenty minutes?”

His smile never wavered, and I wondered how we’d let this friendship crash and burn so fast. It would have been nice to have

another ally here. “Sounds good. Take your time, I can wait as long as you need.”

He strolled off, and I changed directions, racing along the hall and down the stairs to the office.

Barging in, three witches were behind the desk, including Ms. White.

“Yes, dear?” she said, barely lifting her head.

From a quick glance, she was filing assessment tests, and my low-level panic for the end of the week flared, but I pushed it down.

There’d be plenty of time to have a breakdown later.

“I need to speak with Headmaster Gregor,” I said, keeping my voice even.

This got her attention, as she peered at me over her glasses. “Regarding what?”

“My father.”

Everyone in Weatherstone was acting normal. There was barely any chatter even about the party and the fire, and outside of

the charred remains of the chapel I’d spied through the window, you’d never know anything had happened.

And yet Dad was still at home, and I’d heard nothing about his fate. Had he already had his chat with the headmaster? I needed

to find out.

Ms. White’s face softened a fraction, and she nodded. “I’ll see if he’s available.”

She disappeared from the office for a few minutes, and when she returned, I was disappointed to find her alone. “He’ll see

you,” she said, shocking the shit out of me. “He’s in his office. You just take the stairs directly to the right of our door

and go all the way to the top.”

“Oh, okay, thank you!” I hurried out of the office, wondering how I’d missed the stairs all the other times I’d been here.

When I moved to the right of the door, there was only a tapestry depicting one of the wars draped over stone walls. Reaching

out, I pressed my hands against it, and felt a swell of magic. Adding my energy to the magic, the stairs were suddenly visible,

and I almost fell into them.

The headmaster used a concealment spell, and a strong one if it got around the natural ability witches and warlocks had to see through such spells.

I hurried up the stairs, and was a little breathless by the time I reached the top.

If this were one of my training sessions with Logan, he’d be snarling at me for my lack of stamina. Hard-ass.

At the top, I crossed the small half-circle landing to reach the ornate brass-and-wood door. Lifting the tarnished knocker,

I let it bang twice and waited.

“Come in,” Headmaster Gregor called.

The door opened quietly and then closed again behind me without me touching it at all. I stepped into a warm space. The office

was lined in dark timber and smelled of mahogany. There were a couple of bay windows, but every other surface was covered

in shelves, filled with ancient books. I wondered if the particular text I had been looking for was here all along.

Headmaster Gregor sat behind his desk, which was as ornate and dark as the rest of his room. He stood as I walked toward him.

“Ms. Hallistar,” he said. “I’m happy you decided to check in personally about your father’s situation.”

“You are?” It had been a last-minute decision after talking with Marcus. I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. “I figured

you’d tell me it was official Weatherstone business and to get back to class.”

“Not at all.” Gregor was always so magnanimous, while giving me the creeps. It was an interesting contradiction. “It’s terrible

business about Tom,” he continued, peering intently at me. “We’re doing everything we can to clear it up, but unfortunately

the complaint came from a very highly ranked member of the community, and they’re pressing the issue.” He cleared his throat.

“They’re asking for a lot more than just his termination as a professor.”

“Like what?” I asked, feeling chilled despite the warmth of the room. “Because I promise you, I was at the party, and the

witch wine was well concealed. None of the professors knew.” I’d lie all day if I had to for Dad.

The headmaster nodded. “I understand, and in all honesty, every single professor at this school has turned a blind eye once or twice to underage drinking, illegal spellwork—within reason—and other standard college behavior that might not always align completely with our rules. It’s just unfortunate in this situation that there’s more than just my judgment involved. ”

This didn’t sound good, and my thrum grew too large to be contained by my internal box any longer. This could derail my parents’

entire lives. “What was the extra they asked for?” I forced myself to ask, needing every bit of information, even if it was

bad.

“They asked for all Hallistars to be expelled from the college,” he said quietly.

I wrinkled my brow, trying to understand. “Why would they want that?”

The headmaster’s eyes glittered, so dark and biting. “They believe you’re a dangerous family, and that it was no longer in

Weatherstone’s best interests to have you all here.” He shook his head. “Absolute rubbish though. I’ve never had an ounce

of trouble from any of you, and you’re all exceptional witches and warlocks. There were no grounds to involve you in the situation,

so for now it’s all resting on your father.”

The fact that this highly ranked member of the community wanted all of us gone made it more likely that Logan was behind it all. This was about punishing more than Dad; this was

about punishing all Hallistars.

“Thanks for the update,” I finally said, feeling worse than when I walked in. “I can supply witnesses who will attest that

all witch wine was distributed without the knowledge of the professors.” Most of them had no idea that Dad had seen my cup.

“Under a truth spell.”

The headmaster nodded. “Thank you. We’re still in early stages of dealing with this, but I’ll keep that in mind if we take it to the elders.”

I nodded, knowing that was all I could do for now.

Gregor called out as I turned to leave. “Oh, and, Ms. Hallistar, have you had any further issue with monsters in the college?”

That question felt like a weird segue, given the current situation, and I examined his expression, only to find it neutral...

almost blank. “No,” I said shortly. “Not since the blanket was erected.” Not totally true. Parents’ weekend was still on my

mind—when I’d been sure that monsters roamed the grounds.

His intensity eased up a fraction. “Great to know. The blanket will lift just after graduation.”

That made me pause. “Because you’ve figured out who was behind it?”

“Unfortunately not,” he sighed, “but having it up for so long is impacting the ability of students to fully touch their affinities

and magic. The elders believe it’s not in Weatherstone’s best interest to keep it up any longer.”

Translation: students’ lives weren’t worth more than the reputation of the college.

“Hopefully it’ll all be behind us next year,” I said, with a shrug that spoke of a nonchalance I did not feel.

“I’m sure it will be.” The headmaster was more confident. “Good luck with your final assessments, Ms. Hallistar.”

He sat once more and returned to whatever he’d been doing at his desk, and suitably dismissed, I stumbled from the room and

took the stairs down. My head was teeming with questions and worries, and a thrum of panic that wouldn’t fade.

The release of the blanket of energy, when nothing had been solved in the issue of monsters, meant that we’d be right back to danger. Right back where we were that night we lost one of our own.

I had to find those books. I had to figure out what Belle’s father had been implying with his sharp and cryptic comments.

I had to do it before anyone else died.