Supernatural Academy: Year One (Supernatural Academy #1)(27)

Abraham chuckled. “Well, you definitely have energy inside of you somewhere. My power responded to yours without any help from me.”

I felt disconcerted and … stunned, not quite sure how to deal with that feeling still tingling through my veins.

“Can you unlock my energy?” I asked him.

He shook his head, forehead crinkling. “It’s beyond my power.”

He released me, and I let my hand fall to my side. “Thanks for trying,” I said.

With a disappointed smile, he turned and resumed his walk through the students. As I took a seat again, the teacher’s voice rose up. “Now that you’ve spent some time exploring your energy, let us try one of the most basic spells in any magic user’s arsenal. A mage light.”

A ripple of excitement washed through the students—most of whom were sitting now. “Magic users have many words for light. The one I want you to note today, for future use, is illumina.”

Simon started to mutter it beside me, and he wasn’t the only one. I could hear whispers around the room. I quickly pulled out a notepad and jotted it down. Abraham had already spelled it out for us … in lights above his head.

Show-off.

By the end of the class, a third of the students had managed to produce light. I produced sweet fuck all, which was annoying, but not surprising.

“I want you to continue to explore your energy,” Abraham yelled as the music bell rang out, indicating class was over. “The better you know it, the more you’ll control it. Push it outside of your center … your comfort zone. And try not to set any buildings on fire. See you all next class.”

It got noisy as everyone started to file from the room. There was more than one disappointed face, and as bad as it sounded, it made me happy that I hadn’t been a failure alone.

“What class have you got next?” Simon asked, falling in beside me as we stepped out of the dimly lit room.

“Pronunciation of the Fey Language,” I told him, double-checking my schedule to make sure nothing had changed.

He nodded. “Me too.”

Pronunciation was in the quadrant with the classrooms, and since Simon seemed to know where he was going—we were both mostly following the crowd—I let him take the lead.

The pronunciation room looked a lot like a normal classroom back home. Rows of desks, nice high-backed chairs, a whiteboard at the head of the room, and a teacher already waiting for us.

Simon and I ended up at desks in the center, and the teacher started out the same way as the last one had. “Welcome, first years, to Pronunciation of the Fey Language.”

I focused on her for the first time since entering the room and was surprised to see a very perfect, blond supernatural.

She was fey.

I had expected a magic user, which made no sense because the name of this class clearly had fey in it. She smiled around the room, and I could admit that she had the most perfect face I’d ever seen: heart-shaped and symmetrical in a way that was unnatural; high cheekbones, large blue eyes, and full pink lips. Simon let out a low sigh next to me and I shot him a smirk. Every dude in this class was a goner. Even in a world of hotties, and the supernatural world had a lot, this chick stood out.

“I’m Rowena. I was born in Faerie, which gives me a unique understanding of the fey language. As most of you know, this is where much of our magic originates from.”

Fey is Faerie … good to know.

“The words you’ll learn are loose representations of the spells you’ll cast,” Rowena continued. “Even more important is the intention behind the spell, which will come later. First you must learn to speak the language like a native. Trust me, it will improve your spellcasting every time.”

By the end of the class, we’d written down twenty words that we were to memorize and practice saying. Rowena wrote the word on her board, and then followed it with how it was to be said, breaking each syllable down. It was hard to get my tongue around some of the sounds, and we were warned that if we didn’t master these basic fey words, we’d never be able to move on to the more advanced ones.

Definitely a future Maddison problem.

With two classes under my belt already and no drama to be seen, I was actually feeling pretty damn good about being back at school.

“Lunch now,” I said excitedly to Simon as we left the classroom.

He laughed and shook his head. “I feel your enthusiasm, but I actually have one of my electives now: Ancient Spells.”

“Oh, cool,” I said, almost meaning it. Without Simon I’d be braving the common area on my own. “What made you take that class?”

We stopped walking and he shrugged, stuffing some books into his satchel. “My parents are historians. Record keepers for a prison town near Munich. I’ve kind of developed a love for history from them. It runs in the family. Even my older sister, who graduated last year, is now a historian.” He shuffled his feet. “We all like to know how things originated, you know. Learn about the building blocks for what makes up our modern world.” He jerked his head toward the door behind us. “This is my room, so I guess I’ll see you in our next class together.”

“Have fun,” I said, waving as I walked away.

The history thing was cool. The events of the past explained so much of the present and future. And it always repeated itself.