Page 4 of Stormbringer (Tracthesian Academy #1)

It took Wave less than half a shelf to feel the problem.

While every book stood on its shelf, straight and free of dust, there was no rhyme or reason in the energies wafting at her.

She wasn’t especially gifted in spells, but she knew magical energies, and the chaos around her was giving her a headache.

“Oh, stop that,” she half sighed, and swatted at an errant strand reaching for her.

“What was that, dear?” Mrs. Riverson asked over her shoulder.

“Oh, nothing, just some errant book testing the waters,” Wave replied. The woman stopped abruptly and spun to stare at her. Shit, did she mess up already?

“Where?” Riverson demanded. Carefully, Wayla pointed out the book that was still leaking tiny streams of energy.

“Feels like an unfinished spell,” she said, hoping not to make things worse. Mrs. Riverson narrowed her eyes at Wave and tilted her head.

“Anything else you can tell me about it?”

Wave had no intention of probing at an unidentified spell. It hadn’t felt malicious, but you never knew for sure. She shook her head. “Not without looking into it further, and I’m not going to do that without proper precautions.”

“Thank gods.” Mrs. Riverson let out a breath of relief. “In that case, I think we can try things out. You are hired on a temporary basis, Ms. Spinwell. If you make it through the first week, we can talk about a more permanent arrangement.”

“That’s it?”

Mrs. Riverson nodded empathetically. “You have no idea how many safety concerns that just alleviated for me. The number of idiots—”

A cough cut the woman’s starting rant off. “I’m sure you are not talking about me or my students, Mrs. Riverson,” said a graying old man, leaning on his cane. He was grinning at the flustered Mrs. Riverson, but something in that smile felt off to Wave.

“Professor Kilkenny,” Mrs. Riverson hastily greeted the man. “I would never—”

“Oh, sure, sure,” the man cut Mrs. Riverson off. “Now, I’m looking for Middle Age Moon Cycles. Where might I find it?”

Mrs. Riverson sighed heavily, and Wave got a distinct feeling that the woman wanted to roll her eyes. She didn’t, though, and just gritted her teeth slightly before replying, “What edition are you looking for, Professor Kilkenny?”

“The Hell Realms, of course,” the man snapped, like everyone should know already. Wave couldn’t help thinking that the jerk she had met on the stairs would be perfect as this professor’s teaching assistant.

“Let me see what I can do, Professor Kilkenny,” Mrs. Riverson said. “Wayla dear, come by tomorrow after you have your schedule, and we’ll see what hours might work for you?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Riverson. I’ll be here,” she replied quickly, more than happy to leave the woman to deal with the cranky professor.

W hen Wave opened her door back at the dorms, a chaos of color, sound, and movement slammed into her. There were bags, clothes, and things everywhere. Music blared, some pop song she didn’t know, and three sets of eyes dissected her in seconds.

“Heaven’s what are you wearing?”

“Who are you?”

“What are you doing here? Are you lost?”

The questions poured out of them all at the same time.

“I live here,” she replied to that question first and stepped all the way in, closing the door behind her. “Hi, I’m Wayla. A new third-year transfer.”

“Oh, you are the new girl! I’m Ginivivierve, but everyone calls me Ginny. You can too, unless you piss me off,” said the girl with black, curly hair. Her skin shone like a polished stone and it was dark. Not black, not brown, nor grey. Just dark. Wave had no idea what she was, but she was pretty.

“Wayla, right?” The next girl looked over her scuffed sneakers. “What size shoes do you wear? I can’t be seen with someone like… that.” She was the one who had exclaimed over her outfit in the first place, and everything she was wearing was designer-something.

“I’m good, thank you,” Wave tried to keep her tone polite.

“Don’t mind Chrissy,” the third girl said. “She lives and dies by the fashion cycles. If you wear the same size, you’ll find your closet stuffed with her last season’s clothes sooner or later. Might as well give up now.”

Wave looked Chrissy over again. The girl was taller than her, but she had curves. They might share a shirt size, but her pants would be too long and baggy for her smaller frame.

“I don’t think—”

“Nonsense,” Chrissy cut her off and threw her shining brown hair over her shoulder with a practiced flip. “Those shoes are an affront to all quality footwear everywhere. I get a migraine just from looking at them.”

She bent down to dig into one of her bags and pulled out a new pair of sneakers, actually similar to the style Wave was wearing. She held them out. “Try these.”

“I couldn’t—”

“Deal with her, Diana,” Chrissy moaned and slumped to the couch that hadn’t been there this morning.

The third girl, Diana, grinned. She had brown eyes, green hair, and everything about her, down to her wrapped leather shoes, screamed druid of some kind. “You’d better just give in. It’s easier for all of us.”

“Let me see if I got this right,” Wave said, trying to delay. “You are Diana, the drama queen is Chrissy, and the dark goddess is Ginny?”

“Hey, I like her now,” Ginny said with a smile that actually held some warmth.

“I’m not a drama queen,” Chrissy protested.

“Yes, you are,” her two friends replied at once.

“Okay, well, I’ll stop as soon as she tries on the shoes,” Chrissy replied. Now the two turned their meaningful glares at Wave.

“Fine, fine,” she said and toed off her shoes. Gingerly, she sat next to Chrissy and pulled on the new, squeaky-clean sneakers. They fit perfectly. In fact, it felt like they were spelled to mold to fit her feet. “They fit,” she grumbled as she wiggled her toes.

“I knew they would.” Chrissy beamed. “They look good on you. You should keep them. They’re really not my style anyway.”

“I was wondering why you got them,” Ginny said. She was still unpacking some boxes and pulling throw pillows out of them.

“I just had a feeling,” Chrissy replied.

“Chrissy’s grandmother has the sight.” Ginny grinned. “We’ve learned not to argue with her feelings .”

“Told you it’s just easier to go along,” Diana said, smiling too, and returned to her unpacking. “The blue set is for her as well?”

Chrissy nodded, and Diana pulled a fluffy blue blanket and a throw pillow from one of the boxes.

It was clearly new. Now that she paid attention, the color chaos started to make some sense.

There was a set of everything in earthy reds, greens, pearly whites, and a set in blues.

Pillows, carpets, plates, glasses, and even the curtains had those colors layered.

In fact, there was not a shade of beige visible anywhere but on the wall anymore.

“You guys always redecorate to this extent?”

“You don’t like it?” Chrissy’s face fell.

Wave felt like a jerk and shook her head quickly. “No, no. It’s lovely. I just didn’t even think you could get the curtains changed.”

The smile returned to Chrissy’s face, and she walked over to the curtains and trailed her finger over the fabric. It rippled and changed back to the boring creamy white it had been before. At Wave’s gasp, she grinned widely and traced her finger over the fabric again, turning it back.

“Oh! Can I hire you to do a round in my room?” Wave begged.

“If you promise not to wear those offending shoes ever again, I’ll do it free,” Chrissy replied.

“Deal!”