The Curse (H. Academy Series #1)

I tapped onto the floor with my knee-high boot, feeling the nervousness grip my soul. Dealing with my father was never easy, not even when I was a kid. His methods always seemed inappropriate for a child, like that time he locked me in the basement for the entire day because I accidently displayed magic in front of our neighbours.

Did I resent him? Yes. Did it teach me how to deal with bullies? Also, yes.

I didn’t want to think about the potential trauma he caused me, or the trust issues that had to be boiling somewhere deep underneath my skin. The tendency to push people away already showed, in small details like the fact I didn’t contact any of my high school friends since I came to the Academy. Some people turned soft and vulnerable, I turned cold.

But despite my issues, this was something that had to be done.

Because no matter how much I resented my father, he knew stuff I didn’t, and there had to be a way to find those things out. Even if it meant I would have to lie and cheat.

They would not keep me in the dark. I looked far better in the bright lights.

“Come in.” My father called out and I opened the door in front of me. I kept my head low as I walked in. Of course, they gave him his own office. And it was by far the most luxurious I have seen in the entire school. Rich colours gave life to the wooden structures. The mahogany table was massive, too big for one person. The best, shiny quills and ink rested on it, next to the wooden box full of cigars and a crystal bottle full of brown liquid, probably whiskey. My father was a sucker for whiskey.

Books were hidden behind the glass on a lacquered shelf, seemingly well preserved. Silken, red curtains covered the windows, letting in just enough light on the table where my father wrote in his notebook.

“Father, I wanted to apologize for my behaviour this morning.” I plastered the most submissive smile I had on my lips and hoped he wouldn’t see through me. He lifted his dark gaze from the notebook and closed it. His eyes penetrated through my skin, making me feel exposed.

“I am used to it by now.” He murmured. “Anything else?”

That was it? Not even a pretence of love and worry?

“How’s mom?” I asked, wanting to keep the conversation going. My father was a busy man and I knew he would try to shoo me away as soon as possible.

“Call her and ask her.” He began to tap on the table with his pen and with his other hand, he clutched his phone tightly.

“I’m asking you.” I countered. I wished I knew a spell that would make him even more impatient.

“She’s fine, Jade, as fine as she can be.” He sighed, looking at me like he expected me to leave. But I did the opposite, I sat down in the leather chair on the opposite side of him.

“I thought we could catch up.” I glanced at the clock, I had twenty minutes until my practice with Thar. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, I checked whether my own notebook was in place. My heart hammered loudly and his gaze was so protruding that I was worried he could hear it.

“I have a lot of work to do, Jade. I have to save this school from whatever is going on and I’d appreciate if you’d have enough respect for my work to leave.” He really didn’t care how his daughter felt about him, how much he pushed me away.

But in this moment, neither did I.

“Can I at least borrow a book? I have to try out a spell.” I lied swiftly, keeping our eye contact intact. My father’s eyes trailed over me like I was something he pitied.

“Which book?” He glanced towards the book shelf, as if something was there that I shouldn’t see.

“Intro to Elemental Magic.” I tasted the words on my tongue. “I have trouble transmitting messages through the air.” Transmitting messages was one of the first spells I learnt, but of course, he didn’t remember that.

Pity crossed over his face, combined with smugness. Other students’ parents were proud when they achieved something. My father was happy every time I failed.

“That’s very basic, Jade. Makes me worry that if you ever pull a stunt like the one you pulled in the main hall; you’ll die.” He snickered, none of what he said showing on his face. “And you think you should be let in on my affairs. Oh, you naive little girl.” But he walked over to the bookshelf and opened it, murmuring something in his beard, and took out the book I needed.

I tried with all my might not to react to his words, keeping my ego in check. Which was harder than it might seem.

“Do you mind if I practice here?” I asked, my heartbeat spreading from my chest to my fingertips. My father’s expression was almost discomposed, as if that scenario wasn’t imagined even in his wildest dreams. “I have class in twenty minutes.” I lied again. “I’m gonna fail if I don’t learn this.”

“Fine.” He sighed and threw the book on the table, without regard even towards the poor book. I opened my notebook and began practicing. I purposely transmitted the words poorly, ignoring his bewildered expression.

The clock ticked and my anxiety grew. This might be the only chance I had to pull this off. There was no way my father would let me practice in his office ever again. After an excruciatingly long five minutes, my father’s phone finally rang.

His eyes darted between his phone and me, as if he weighed whether he should answer the phone in front of me. After all, there was crucial information I might learn. After the fifth ring, he stomped out of the office, finally leaving me alone.

As soon as the door closed, I focused my magic on the notebook he left on the table in a hurry. I didn’t know whether there was anything important in there, but I saw him scribble in it this morning when I gave my statement.

“To pass this test, I need some answers, so please, copy this text.” I murmured as quietly as possible and watched my own notebook fill with symbols and words. I hoped my father wouldn’t detect the surplus of magic this spell required and I put my ear to the ground, hearing him talk on the phone.

After the spell was done, I checked if I had accidently erased the words from his notebook, but it was all there. Hurriedly, I threw my notebook in my bag and took the book he gave me with me. Right as I was about to leave, my father opened the door.

“Done?” The anger in his eyes made my heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, I... I have to put on makeup before class.” That might have been the dumbest thing I’ve ever said in front of my father.

“Of course.” He laughed out loud and walked past me into his office. Afraid he would see the anxiety on my face, I closed the door and ran down the hallway. Screw the demons, this was the ballsiest thing I’ve done in my life, I thought as I stormed through the school, still afraid he would figure it out and chase me down.

I calmed down only when I reached Thar’s office. The notes were in my bag, safely tucked in, waiting for me to finish with my day. Excitement flowed through me as I opened the door to Thar’s office. I knew basics were important, but I spent most of my teenage years practicing small spells. Usually because I wanted to have it easy and magic was the perfect short-cut. Now, I was ready for something real, something that took actual strength.

Thar was reading a book in the chair; he had glasses on and I smiled.

“Is that because of the glass pieces?” I asked. Why he hadn’t fixed it was beyond me. There was a spell to fix eyesight in general.

“It’ll heal in a day or two.” He took them off, his pupils still rounded with the slight red. “I like to be reminded of the pain I went through. It makes me stronger, tougher.”

“It also makes you in pain.” The gentleness of my own voice surprised me and I winced.

“I’ll be fine. Sit.” He gestured towards the chair on the opposite side of him. “Did you sleep?”

“No.” I admitted. “My mind was too wild for sleep.”

“I suppose I’m going to have to wear you down.” He smiled, but immediately realised what that sounded like. I cracked up a smile, furthering his embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” I sat down, wondering for a moment whether Morta and Amma were right. He handed a piece of paper to me.

“You’re going to write down words, today.” He tapped the paper twice.

“What? Why?” The puzzlement must have showed on my face because he chuckled.

“Because you need to learn focus and control.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But I know how to write down words.” I added a touch of irony to my voice, which made Thar squint.

“No, you don’t. You know how to transfer words from one place to another. But you always write it down with a pen. This time, I want you to gather the particles in the air and plaster them on the paper, one by one.” He smiled, obviously enjoying my shock. “And I want the handwriting to be beautiful.”

“Thar, that’s awfully boring.” I pointed out, using his first name on purpose. This seemed to amuse him and he extended his hand, making shapes in the air. It took a moment for me to realise words appeared on the paper in front of me.

Magic is essentially awfully boring.

I tried to do the same trick and I focused my magic on my hands, writing a sassy comment in the air, but all that ended up on the paper were a couple of mismatched scribbles.

“It’s not that easy.” Thar smiled.

“But, you said you’d teach me how to fight!” I protested, crossing my hands on my chest.

“This is teaching you how to fight, Jade.” My name rolled off his tongue in a whisper. “This spell is easy to do once, but it becomes very tiring after a while. You have quite a few talents, but you have to learn endurance. Your magic is useless if you can only cast a few spells in a row.”

“Isn’t there anything else I can do? Like, I don’t know, punch the wall with an imaginary fist?” That was the first thing that came to mind.

“This spell is perfect because you hate it. And magic often is boring and difficult, especially once you start learning detailed manoeuvres and spells that take preparation. Do you think you can flick your fingers to do everything?” There was nothing condescending in his voice, so I shook my head, letting an ounce of my insecurities show.

“I know magic is hard, but I feel like we have no time.” I admitted.

“You’re a talented witch, these lessons won’t take much of your time.” The compliment made my heart beat louder.

“I want to be of more use.” I lowered my voice and my gaze, staring at the wine-coloured nail polish on my fingers. “What if I can’t help you next time?” I added, afraid of how I sounded.

But Thar leaned over the table, his movements making me lift my gaze. There was nothing but determination in his eyes with a hint of something else, something deeper.

“There’s no one I’d rather have with me on any battlefield.” His voice turned rougher, the gentleness gone and replaced by urge, unfamiliar to me. I swallowed my heartbeat and tried to avert my gaze, but he held it sternly.

“I’ll practice the spell.” I said finally and Thar relaxed his shoulders. Once I focused my magic on the paper, Thar took his book again.

“Book Thief?” I asked, noticing the cover and Thar looked at me from behind it.

“It’s an amazing book.” He murmured, squinting as if trying to prevent judgement.

“You do you.” I smiled.

My magic flew freely towards the paper as my hands formed the words I desperately tried to write down. At first, it was simply boring, but after a while, it turned tiring. My hand hurt and my head throbbed, my magic becoming weaker and weaker. One hour in and I thought I’d collapse from exhaustion. I drank a gallon of water and stared out of the window, contemplating my miserable existence, more than once. Thar calmly read his book, glancing at me every now and then, probably worried that I might drop dead.

I found depths of my magic I never even discovered, buried somewhere in the forgotten parts of my bones. But the spell turned more difficult every time I did it. I made a mental note I would never underrate the given spell.

After two hours of trying, cursing and threatening to kill myself if Thar didn’t let me out, my movements finally became more precise. And after all the torture I went through, I managed to write my first word down.

Thar.