Chapter 1

“What do you think about the Black Masque Ball next week? Want to go as friends?” I was silent for a moment, holding my breath while waiting for an answer, then added while shrugging and inwardly wincing, “It could be fun.”

It was my feeble attempt to take our friendship a step deeper by inviting my one and only friend to the school's morbid effort at a social gathering. Each of us had been thrust into the rigors of academia at Blackgate University, and I thought the event might be a nice break from our studies.

Neither of us was particularly good at trusting others, so we ended up gravitating toward each other. We had a lot in common. Both of us had come from impressive and powerful magical families. Neither of us could summon enough sorcery between us to light a match, making us disappointments to our respective parents. I guess it was just kindred spirits at work since both of us admitted that we had endured friendless childhoods.

Sighing deeply and unable to lift my gaze from the ancient oak table filled with ancient texts in front of me, I felt embarrassed. When Darius didn’t answer or give me his customary grunt of disdain, I figured that I had scared him, so I decided on a hasty retreat. Who needed to go to some crusty old dance anyway? I looked up from my potions textbook to find that I was speaking to thin air.

“Darius?”

One minute, Darius was there, and the next—he wasn’t. He hadn’t made a sound, which is impossible, considering you could hear a pin drop in the cavernous room that served as a library yet resembled more of what could have easily been reimagined as a medieval torture chamber. Both of us had always found it unsettling here, but so did everyone else, making it the perfect spot to work undisturbed. An undesirable place for unwanted people is what Darius had always said about it.

He had been standing in the corner, looking for a little-known potion how-to book, and suddenly, poof, he had disappeared!

Frowning, I saw a scrap of what looked like his deep purple shirt sticking out from the corner of the bookshelves, and I rose to investigate.

“Darius?” I whispered once more, hoping that he was playing a prank on me and would pop out from a darkened corner at any moment.

Nothing happened, and drawing closer, I saw that it was indeed a piece of his favorite shirt. The deep purple he tended to wear set off his easily tanned skin and dark eyes, making him an extremely handsome individual.

The Fontaine family was part of the original Celtic Brits and one of the founding magical families in our little corner of the world. The only reason the women weren’t falling all over him was because Darius, like myself, had no magical moxie, and we were considered the black sheep of our families.

Tugging on the fabric, I stepped back in shock and took in a deep breath when the bookcase swung open to reveal a secret doorway.

Determined to find my only friend, I stepped inside. The chill of the stone interior made me rub my arms, only to find that a raging case of goose pimples had appeared. Exhaling, I could see my breath, and I shivered. Blackgate was, after all, a school, and there shouldn’t be anything nefarious going on. Should there? Rumors of black magic being practiced in secret at the university over the centuries fueled my anxiety, and I felt my stomach turn over in agreement.

Cobwebs hung in my way, and I cringed, thinking about what might have been lurking in them. I couldn’t stand spiders, especially those fat-bodied individuals that made a heavy clunking sound in the hose when you vacuumed them up. Ick. I could feel the hair rise on the back of my neck and swore I could feel arachnids reaching out to touch me with their hairy eight legs as I passed. Tears of fright pooled in my eyes, but I had to find Darius.

Wishing that I could conjure a simple ball of light to illuminate my path, I had to settle for the flashlight app on my phone but held my hand over it to lessen the announcement of my presence.

After a sharp turn, I found a spiral staircase cut into the stone and quietly made my way down it. The steps themselves were oddly devoid of dust, telling me that this passageway was used often, although neither of us knew anything about it.

“What are you doing?” I heard a panicked voice yell from what seemed like miles away underground. It was Darius, and he sounded alarmed.

Racing along the corridors as quickly as I dared, I couldn’t help but wonder what I would do when I arrived. Use harsh language? Weighing about 115 pounds soaking wet, I wasn’t a fighter and was unable to call any magic to defend either of us. Without knowing how many adversaries stood at the end of my path was also a concern. Anything more than one, and I would be easily overpowered. Heck, even one person would be more than I could handle!

With no weapon to bear except my traitorous phone that provided no bars with which to call for help, I began to curse my parents for sending me here in the first place. Fearing for the safety of my only friend, I disregarded my own predicament and figured that I might be able to find a weapon once I arrived on the scene. I could still hear that final conversation with my parents in my head, and now I wished I had run away rather than remain here.

“The school will build character, Miranda,” my mother had assured me on more than one occasion. Judging from her tone, I believed she was trying to convince herself more than me.

As a young girl, she had tried to teach me how to brew potions for charms, and they would always flop. It was as if I was the failed experiment when two powerful magics married. My non-magical abilities are probably why my parents never had another child, afraid of facing the rest of the community of magic wielders with two bitter disappointments. One was certainly enough!

They had kept me isolated throughout my childhood, and that seclusion had really done a number on my confidence. Often were the days that I feared my own shadow might turn on me as well.

“You’re going, and that’s final,” my father had roared, filling our home with reverberating tones of anger. “Refusal would disgrace our family!”

Well, we couldn’t have that now, could we?

That’s when I realized that I was one of those kids. The ones that parents sent away to boarding school to forget about. Positive that I was already a dismal failure in my family’s eyes, I racked my brain, trying to come up with a plan of redemption.

The night before I was scheduled to leave, I cried as silently as possible. It was hard to believe that my parents could be so cruel, but I shouldered the blame that I had been born magically handicapped. Using every ounce of strength I possessed, I tried to force magic from my body, but it refused to give up so much as a twitch.

Two weeks ago, I was absently gazing out the back of the family limousine as it hurtled through miles and miles of empty countryside. Our chauffeur was my only company, and he kept the divider window up for most of our journey. It seemed that even he held me in disdain. When we arrived, I stared up at the castle-like spires that rose into the sky and marveled at their majesty. After that, I spent the next few days unable to take my gaze off the floor, trying to make myself as small as possible.

Hiding in the shadows, I rubbed my eyes, attempting to hide the tears of shame and tell-tale redness from my fellow classmates. To my dismay, I found that they all exhibited powerful magical talents and delighted in whispering insults and name-calling behind my back, thus adding to my mountain of shame. For some reason, they never used their powers against me, which I found curious. Perhaps it was a school rule?

That’s when I’d run into Darius. Literally. Turning the blind corner where hallways met, we had run head-on into each other, creating a memorable event. Our books went flying through the air, making a thunderous crash as they fell to the floor. The unkind chuckles from our fellow students created one good thing: a bond that no one could break between us. Darius and I had been besties ever since that day.

Initially, after our crash, I dared to meet his dark, smoldering eyes, I expected to be turned into a smoking pile of ash or perhaps a wart-covered toad. Instead, I found someone who understood what it was like to be the black sheep of the family simply by possessing no magical talent whatsoever.

Darius had often supported me, convincing me that we were the better students and didn’t use magic as a crutch like the others. We had both known it was a false front, but we hid behind it nonetheless.

His protests grew louder, and I knew that I was near. Struggling with my breathing, I forced myself to ignore the panic attack that was overtaking me. Darius would come for me if the situation were reversed, and I gathered what little bit of nerve I possessed and soldiered on. Still uncertain of what I would do once I arrived, I put my faith in the universe.

Chapter 2

After traversing all the winding, narrow corridors, I came to a balcony that overlooked a large room filled with our fellow students, and at the center was Darius.

He was strapped to a table like a smaller version of the Frankenstein monster. Missing were all the large, frightening machines zapping electricity from one receptacle to another, and in their place were tall candelabras. Each of these held three candles—one red, one white, and one green.

Darius was in the center of a salted circle; the outer rim was a darker substance that looked a bit like ground charcoal. My friend was wide-eyed and nervously glancing around the room when he caught sight of me just outside of the shadows above. Meeting my eyes for a moment, it seemed as though Darius was pleading with me to run while I had the chance.

That was when I noticed the other table on the other side of the bubbling cauldron. Devoid of an occupant, I realized that it was meant for me. Beside that cauldron stood a small table, and the only thing on it was a dagger. Feeling my heart pound in my chest, I wondered how the rest of them couldn’t hear the noise that thudded in my ears like a runaway train—had our parents sent us here to be a sacrifice? Betrayal filled my heart, enough for us both. Part of me didn’t want to believe it, but the scene spoke for itself.

All the incense they were burning tickled at my nose, and before I could stop it, I sneezed. The last thing I saw before I ran for my life was Darius closing his eyes, knowing that he couldn’t save me from my fate. Feeling all the blood drain from my face, I could feel my breaths become labored, and I struggled for enough oxygen. It was too late, as the sensations of pins and needles circled my mouth, and I knew that I was hyperventilating.

“After her,” many of them yelled in unison.

If I had stuck around to see how many raced after me, I probably would have had a heart attack. Instead, I took off like a rabbit, looking for a place to hide. Struggling to breathe, I looked backward to see if my seemingly angry classmates were within reach.

It only takes a moment to lose the race, and that distraction caused me to lose mine. Mistaken that I had been saved, I ran smack into my potions professor.

“Help me, Professor Wentworth,” I cried, pleading with him. “Darius is in danger below. Please, you have to help us!”

With an amused look on his face, my professor grabbed me by the wrist and began to lead me back toward the hoard of magical students. My mouth fell open in disbelief. Weren’t teachers supposed to protect students?

His grip was firm but not painful; however, that didn’t stop me from struggling with every ounce of energy I had. Emotionally, I was exhausted, and before I knew it, the floor rose up underneath me, and my world went black.

When I awoke, I found myself strapped to the other table. While I opened my mouth to try and protest, my body failed me, and all I could do was look on in horrified contemplation.

“Sit caerimonia incipiam,” chanted Wentworth. While he had a smile on his face, I couldn’t detect any malice despite the situation I was in.

It wouldn’t be long now, whatever they chose to do with us because those words translated to: Let the ceremony begin.

All the candles were lit using those long brass church candle lighters that allowed the acolyte to reach those heights.

Feeling those pins and needles returning, I prayed to pass out so that I wouldn’t have to witness what would happen to us both. My voice failed me as the tears ran down my cheeks.

Professor Wentworth picked up the dagger and, standing between us, held it aloft, parallel to the ground, as if offering it to some unseen deity.

Holding my breath, I watched as he sliced his own palm open, allowing a small amount of blood droplets to hit the floor where our circles touched.

“Bring forth the sacrifice,” Wentworth commanded to the others.

Two of our fellow students stepped forward, holding a piece of our hair that they must have clipped while I was passed out. Panicking, I wondered if they intended to make us their zombie-like servants—someone who mindlessly fetches grotesque body parts as ingredients to their dark spells. I tried to look toward Darius, but the restraints kept us from making eye contact.

Wentworth recited in a booming voice that filled the room, bouncing off the walls and reverberating in my ears.

“My blood drops times three. This binding shall no longer be. Their hair now burns in their new reality, allowing them to be set free.”

Convulsing, my body would have fallen to the floor if not for my bindings. It felt as though volts of electricity were shooting through me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was dead.

The warm feeling of discomfort that shot through my veins was quickly replaced by what I can only describe as a large amount of glitter fluttering to the floor.

“What…what’s going on?” I whispered, my lower lip quivering as I spoke.

“Your magical bindings have been removed,” Wentworth replied as though it should have been obvious. “Because of your unusual amount of power, your parents thought that it would be in everyone’s best interest that you grow old enough to handle the abilities you were born with.” The professor hesitated, then added in a low tone, “My apologies to you both. The fear factor was necessary to complete the ritual since the original binding spell was filled with a considerable amount of trauma. The spellcaster was struck dead during the original ceremony. Precautions were necessary.”

“There must be some mistake,” I replied. “I’ve never had any magical abilities.” Yet, I knew as I spoke these words they felt false. Suppressed memories came flooding back, and some of them I had always thought were bad dreams. As a child, I could recall many incidents that had been concealed, and in that moment, I realized that my parents had kept me isolated so I didn’t hurt anyone by accident. Why they had never allowed me to have a pet or a friend until now became crystal clear.

The connection Darius and I felt for each other was now revealed. Our magical powers had been bound in a joint ceremony and a promise by our parents that we would be promised to the other.

My classmates had never performed any magic on Darius or me because they feared on the day our powers were released, they might suffer retribution. Feeling the power inside of me grow, I can’t say that I blame them.

Released from our bindings, Darius and I gazed at each other, and as we clasped hands, our united power became overwhelming. The smiles we now shared told us that we had always been meant for each other. From now on, things will be different.