Chapter One - Holly

Dreadmor Academy. Located in an obscure corner of the world, straddling the barrier between normal and fantastical, it stood tall and proud centuries after its formation.

Out of all the prestigious supernatural schools that existed, perhaps Dreadmor sat most firmly on the edge of reality. It danced with the energy of wild magic, of untamed sections of land where dangers lurked, and all around it, magic burned bright as the day it was formed, like the burst of power from the Big Bang, when the universe was hottest, ripe with the new creation of stars and planets.

In those pockets of untamed land, glimpses of other realities might be seen – and occasionally, some of those realities glimpsed back.

All in all, it was the perfect sort of location for those who looked to perfect their magic, intermingle with the supernatural – and sometimes get a lot more than they bargained for.

Holly grinned as she walked under the stylized black iron gateway. It gave a suitably ominous creak as she ventured into the academy grounds, noting the light mist in the background, obscuring the wildlands from view.

She knew, pretty much as soon as she could walk and talk, that this was the school for her. After all, dark magic ran in her family. Her mother, father, cousins, aunts, and uncles loved to boast about it, with grand claims that they descended from prominent Celtic practitioners. Perhaps they were a little vague on some of the details about which Celtic practitioner, but she'd heard stories ranging from having direct links to the goddess Ishtar, Inanna, Hecate, links to The Morrigan, Baba Yaga – even though not all of these had Celtic origin. They just liked the stories and the sense of feeling important and connected.

Having some prepped stories seemed appropriate for attending this particular academy.

The grounds stretched out before her, with gargoyle-topped fountains, neat little rows of white-and-red plants, impeccably trimmed bushes – and one tree artfully carved into the shape of a griffin. Upon closer inspection, it seemed the leaves were enchanted, as they gave the faintest of green glimmers, causing the griffin's wings to ripple and move. Nice.

Dreadmor's huge double-door entrance remained closed, but in a touch of ingenious magic, all she needed to do was step through what seemed like solid wood, ending up inside the vast hallway. She took out her guide map, and it illuminated for her a faint pathway to her first lesson, which she followed dutifully since, judging by the size and depth of the academy, it'd be very easy to get lost without such a map.

Other students, also new, held out their maps as well, following glimmering green trails to their destinations. A few intermingled with her trail. Other new students were heading to the same class as her, which caused a small worry to creep in.

For all her pride in being accepted here, none of her friends back home had managed the same, meaning that she was starting at this school without knowing anyone. Sure, one of her aunts actually taught one of the lessons, but she didn't want to be seen as the person clinging to a teacher and having no friends.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come down to anything like that, although, from examining their clothes, some of the students definitely appeared to come from families wealthier than hers. Others oozed with magic. One woman showed off by changing her hair color with a nifty illusion spell, flicking through the colors of the rainbow in seconds.

Illusions were not really Holly's talent. Her talent was a little more specific and perhaps not as well suited for a normal classroom. It might have gotten her into Dreadmor's Summer Camp so she could earn credits before starting her first year, but she just missed the boat on the admissions. Still, she might try again. Her older sister gushed about how awesome and fun the summer camp was and how it was worth everyone's while to go there at least once in their lifetime.

Though apparently, the latest camp to happen might have been a little too worthwhile for some. The papers covered it as some "mild" tears in reality that appeared over the camp. Nothing to worry about, everything completely under control, not a big deal or anything – as if tears in reality happened on a regular basis.

However, as Holly knew, the papers either exaggerated or greatly downplayed situations, depending on their agenda. Holly's aunt Grena – the aforementioned Dreadmor teacher – had hinted at such. But even she didn't have all the details.

The blue guiding trail led her to her first class of the day, Magic Studies. She shuffled in along with other new students who were also following their trails. Dreadmor's minimum age was twenty, so all of the students here were of that age or older. The laws of the academy dictated this age requirement because it was only after the age of twenty that most students' powers manifested.

Holly picked a desk close to the front. She didn't want to be a lurker, sitting in the back, and as she was fairly short, she didn't want someone tall potentially blocking her view. Some students chatted with one another. Holly guessed they either knew each other from home or summer camp or had just met and made friends instantly. A few, like Holly, sat quietly, not engaging, perhaps being a little nervous about proving themselves.

The weight of the school's reputation rested uneasily on their shoulders. It meant something to be here. There was plenty to take in, from the old, grand statues, the paintings, and the faintly shimmering magical artifacts to a group of black silhouettes that marched across the white walls, animated by some long-ago student's or teacher's magic.

Holly watched the wandering silhouettes, which resembled a group of children going off on an adventure in some distant field perhaps. She chewed absently on her lip. There were a lot of strange kinds of magic in this place, and she worried that her own powers paled in comparison to everyone else's.

A student shuffled in and took the desk right next to hers. She glanced surreptitiously at the newcomer, and she was shocked to see a werewolf. An actual werewolf, in werewolf form, sitting there calmly at the next desk.

Weren't there pills they could take not to transform? Why the heck was he or she sitting there? Were they dangerous?

The silvery werewolf turned their gaze to her as if in a challenge. She didn't look away because it would be too obvious. But not looking created a somewhat awkward moment. Still, she owned it. When they broke eye contact first, she felt a tiny surge of triumph.

She listened carefully to the hushed voices in the classroom and caught snippets of conversations about moving in and this year's summer camp. It seemed like nearly a quarter of the class had gone to camp. The most talk involved a blonde woman, a dark-haired woman with a big smile, and a dour-looking woman who wore her unhappiness like a suit of armor.

"Come on, Harrow, Kati, tell us more. Something really big went down, right? We already knew about the storm, the weird stuff happening in the woods…"

"NDA," one replied. Harrow, maybe? "We all had to sign one." She didn't sound exactly pleased to have done it or pleased to talk about it. It was hard to tell which. The smiling woman covered her mouth.

"Yeah, we had to sign it. Lujan, as well. He was there with me." Her gaze turned to a yellow-eyed student who seemed quite content just to look at her with that annoying, lovestruck expression that Holly had seen in so many people in high school. But a part of her was slightly envious that she didn't yet have someone who'd stare at her that way.

"We won't tell!"

Harrow shook her head, gesturing for the questioners to drop it. One of the women sighed but changed the subject to something else – the werewolf in the room, who sat rigid as a stone, unbothered by the voices around him. Holly wondered if he was used to this kind of attention, maybe even liked it.

When the professor entered the classroom, conversation ceased as all eyes instead turned to her, an older woman whose name, according to what she'd written on the chalkboard, was Z'Hana.

Then, she turned to address the students. "This is how I'd like you to refer to me," she said, gesturing to the chalkboard. "Some of you I have already had the pleasure to meet in summer camp; others of you are new students whom I hope to get to know in the next four years." Z'Hana smiled. "All of you have wonderfully varied magical talents, and all of you will be allowed to develop them to your highest potential. Most of this class will concern reading past studies and researching your own powers. We will also study general magical theories as a group, and you will each receive tailored instruction, depending on your power."

A few students nodded, and Holly breathed a small sigh of relief. This individualized approach sounded good to her because it hopefully meant no awkward group projects where people showed off their abilities to levitate pencils or something while she simply sat there and smiled.

Z'Hana continued. "For the first lesson, we will get to know one another with some small team-building exercises. Some of you have come from far away, some come from prestigious families…" Her eyes lingered on the werewolf. "Others of you have just discovered your powers or lineage. Whatever your background and experience with magic, you are all welcome here, and you all will have a chance to prove yourselves."

She called the role, and thankfully, Z'Hana didn't ask anyone to talk about themselves. She just made sure to pronounce each name clearly. The gossiping students turned out to be named Ekaterina, Harrow, and Chloe. Other names were called, but Holly didn't catch them – aside from the name of the werewolf sitting next to her: Arlo Sixclaw.

"Here," the werewolf responded politely but formally in a deep, clear voice.

"Good to have you." Z'Hana smiled at him before moving on to the next name.

"Sixclaw?" someone whispered. "Aren't they assholes?"

"They're rich as hell," someone else whispered. "Surprised he's not at Archon. All the rich ones go there."

"Quiet, please," Z'Hana said, and the murmurings stopped. The class settled down, and Holly tried to ignore that sense of being an outsider, of not really belonging here, of being excluded. It was not exactly an unfamiliar sensation.

"Let's sort you into pairs for now," Z'Hana said, "and you'll each have to ask the other three basic questions."

Holly watched in bemusement as Z'Hana wrote the questions on the board. The puzzled frown remained even as she caught the werewolf, Arlo, with a similar expression on his face. This was not how she'd pictured her first class would go. It sounded less like something she'd be required to do at a prestigious academic institution and more like a fun summer camp exercise.

By proximity, Arlo and Holly ended up being paired together. "This is stupid," the werewolf muttered. "I wanted to be learning."

"And there will be plenty of time for that," Z'Hana said, zeroing in on Arlo, who hadn't meant his words to be overheard. "Think of this as a simple introduction to the class to help you settle in before the learning begins."

The werewolf nodded, embarrassed, and was quiet after that.

In a bored voice, Holly asked Arlo the first question. "What brings you to Dreadmor Academy? What do you hope to achieve?"

"Well," Arlo replied, in an equally bored voice, "I hope to achieve greatness." He said nothing else. After an awkward pause, he asked Holly the same question.

"I suppose the same," she said, which prompted Arlo to smirk.

He then asked Holly, "What is your magic power?"

"I can hear the whispers of the dead," Holly said. "Which is a fancy way of saying I'm a medium."

"A medium!" For the first time, Arlo showed actual interest, leaning forward, hands clasped together. The rest of the classroom had devolved into numerous conversations that buzzed in the background. "You work with spirits. Isn't it similar to necromancy?"

"Nah," she said, slightly surprised at the interest, though not exactly hating it. "Necromancy is more animating the dead, trapping souls – mine's probably not quite as strong. I kind of wish I was a necromancer. What about you? What is your magic power?"

"Necromancy," he said with a grin. "And how you described it isn't quite how it is, but close enough."

"What! For real?" Holly exclaimed. Someone who had a similar connection to spirits was in her class, someone who had the kind of magic she'd just confessed to wanting as well. "You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

"Nope." He grinned, but on him, it looked menacing. "It's an innate power possessed by a small offshoot of the Sixclaw family." But then his smile faded. "It's not a popular offshoot as you might imagine."

"Oh, my family isn't popular either," Holly offered. "I guess people don't like those who work with the dead."

"Yeah, that's it, I suppose." He glanced at the board and asked her the third question. "What question do you really want to ask me?" He scowled. "Really? That's the question?"

Holly snorted, though a question did spring to mind. "How about… why are you here in your werewolf form? How is it possible?"

"I guess you don't know a lot about werewolves," he said, settling back in his chair and folding his arms. "I do it because I can."

"No, I mean for real. I thought werewolves were savage."

"Ah. You really don't know." He thought for a second before saying, "I take a type of pill. There's one that suppresses transformation, but there's another that allows it but helps you retain humanity. I had a bad reaction to the suppressant.

"It takes a lot of practice to learn to speak well when you're in this form, though, so most werewolves prefer to stay in human form. I like being in werewolf form. I see no reason to hide it. When the moon is full, you can see us for who we are."

She digested this information, nodding. She'd never known a pill existed that allowed werewolves to remain human while in werewolf form, but here he was, not attacking everyone in sight. "Thanks for telling me." She wanted to ask him why he'd chosen Dreadmor over Archon but instead blurted, "I heard some of the students saying your family's loaded. Is that true?"

"Sure." He kept his arms folded.

"I guess you'll be the one hosting all the parties then," she said, and he chuckled.

"Oh no. No parties where I come from." His yellow eyes locked on hers with slightly less contempt than before. "Have you ever spoken to the dead?"

A memory sprang to Holly's mind. It flared – a bright warble of sound, of something cold, grasping, creeping through her spine. She forced a smile, pushing that memory away. "I have. I wouldn't recommend it."

Z'Hana's exercise sounded like a crackpot idea, but it worked on the students as they opened up to one another. Eventually, the original pairs were divided, and the students got a chance to ask the same questions to new ears.

Holly was first paired with Lujan, who didn't seem interested in asking anything more than what was on the board, but when she was paired with Chloe, the vibes were better.

"Yeah, my power – it has to do with prophecy and intuition," Chloe said, one hand ruffling through her blonde hair to scratch an apparently itchy scalp. "I can sometimes glimpse an echo of the future, but it's super unreliable. Intuition is probably my stronger power."

"How does that even work?"

"It works on occasion," she said, mirroring Holly's smile. "But I suppose the best way it ever worked was a brief gut feeling I had not to get off the bus at my usual stop. It turned out there was someone victimizing women walking alone late at night. He got someone else, but it"s not me."

"Whoa. So – you just get this urge, this feeling, and you follow it?"

"Pretty much." She asked Holly about her powers as well – and seemed fascinated by the concept of talking to the dead. Their conversation ended with Chloe inviting her to eat with her, and Holly felt a little less alone in the world. She glanced at Arlo now and then, wanting to see how people were interacting with him, but he appeared to keep himself at a cool distance. Honestly, she wanted to get to know him a little more, but something about his appearance seemed too intimidating. She wondered what he looked like in human form. Well, she'd probably find out in two days…