Fowler School of Magic's

Captivity

In the end, six of them agreed. Calla was zoned out for most of it, the feeling of others hands in hers was weird. One of them could read minds. Another manipulate voices. She focused on familiar voices. Rhiannon and Nathan mostly, when they weren't speaking she focused on Emily.

Three of them said they'd consider. Only one declined all together. Surprisingly, kids raised on books spinning tales of rebellion and overthrowing tyrants, were eager to spark their own rebellion. Revolution.

They offered up names of people who might be interested and the list only grew. By the end of the week, their little group was almost five times as big. Nearly fifty members give or take.

Over a thousand at the school though and January was coming to a close. People would graduate in early May. Time was running out.

She started attending classes to keep up her lie about her conversation with Lane. Except with the end of January came a late winter break. A week off. They offered retests for anyone who thought they should move up a level. In the end they announced everyone who moved up. She prayed they'd skip over her.

They didn't.

Rhiannon was the first to get her hands on her. "I just heard the most interesting announcement." She looked at her, most of the bandages gone now except for her hands. Partly because they were still healing but she also liked the feeling of them. The scars on her face were pink but a new recruit helped reduce them.

"When were you going to tell me?"
"I couldn't."
"Why?"
"You're worried now."
"Of course I'm- oh."

She sat down on the bunk next to her. Calla leaned over to rest her head in her lap. Rhiannon ran her fingers through her hair. "We didn't talk about attendance in that office." The words were strained. She shifted to lift her sleeve, still wrapped up despite the scab having moved to scar. She peeled the bandage off and pointed to it, "It's a sigil apparently. It makes it so I can't talk, write, communicate basically, anything we talked about."

She was surprised she was able to say so much. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to worry because I'll be fine."

The door swung open, Francine. Calla sat up, "I assume you're here for the same reason?"

In the end she got a mini-lecture for almost the whole original team. Then they ate dinner in the bunk room. Pizza, like they had in Nathan's dorm a few times before.

She wished she could go back to the beginning. Wished she could go back to this brand new exciting world of magic.

It was too late now. She hated it. Hated the bunk beds. Hated the table. Hated the house. Hated the school. Hated Mr. Lane. The dorms. Caught up in a world she wanted no part of.

She excused herself and found Max's lighter, used for incense and the occasional blunt, and went back to Rhiannon's pond with her bat.

Hugo sat beside her, skipping stones over the water. His highest was five skips. Calla ran her hand over the lighter. Hugo said nothing. He'd watched her do it before, stealing her mother's lighter and running her hand through the flame. There was a terrible comfort in the act.

"Shit!" Her jacket slid down her arm and blacked beneath the flame. He threw the lighter into the water. Hugo sighed and walked across, reaching beneath the surface to retrieve it. He sat it on a rock to dry.

Shoes clicked on the deteriorating sidewalk. She turned and saw him. She pushed the bat into Hugo's hands as her body followed. He wrapped an arm around her as the other gripped the bat, pointed at him.

"No need to be scared Calla. I just came to talk."
"How? How here?"

Her voice wouldn't work. Not because of any magic. The bat trembled in time with her hands, her heart pumping a hundred miles an hour. She was terrified. Mr. Lane moved closer. He crouched to her level, tapping her shoulder.