Wicked on the Wind, page 6
She turned to the window, staring out into the night. “This is my chance to finally make everything the way it should be, Ava. Chances like this only come by once in a lifetime.” Her bangs swung as her head snapped back. “So, are you with me?”
Ava gaped at her.
“Come on,” Tinabella urged. “Let the rest of them keep doing their study prep or whatever. We’ve got a mission to complete.” She broke into a sudden smile. “It’ll be like old times!”
A warm spark flared inside Ava, growing quickly to an excited glow.
A secret magical mission sounded like just what she needed. She hadn’t exactly been happy with all the extra schoolwork lately, and besides, her test preparations were going fairly okay. Twelve days was kind of a lot if you thought about it. Didn’t she deserve a little distraction?
As for taking on the storm, sure, Gern had told them not to, but he hadn’t known about Tinabella’s research when he said that. He hadn’t known there might be a real, genuine way to beat Vivienne. And wasn’t that the most important thing right now?
“I don’t know,” she said, playing for time. “What about Henry and Crow? Could they help? We could all do it together.”
“While Professor Crow is in charge of the class?” Tinabella shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
Ava sighed. “I guess he probably would try to talk us out of it. And Henry would tell Crow anything we told him.”
“Exactly.”
“Can I look over the list first, at least?” Ava asked. “Just to see if it’s stuff I think I could do?”
Tinabella flapped a hand. “I’ll walk you through the details tomorr-o-ow,” she said, ending on a yawn. “It’s basically just different variations on curses, poisons, and entanglement—you know, taking over someone’s mind and body.”
“Aren’t those all kind of, well, wicked?”
“Um, yeah! We have to outdo Vivienne Morderay. What, too tough for you?”
“I just—I don’t think I’ve ever done, like, deliberately wicked magic before,” said Ava.
“Oh no, of course, all the wicked things you’ve done have been by accident!” Tinabella could have earned a medal for eye rolling. “Look, if you don’t want to help, fine. But I’m going to try. It’s going to be hard, though. There’ll be tons of dangerous spell ingredients to find and blend, and super cool dark magic rituals to do, and special tools to make. And Warden Pike could come back any minute, so I probably won’t succeed if I have to do it all on my own. I could totally miss my chance.” She tilted her face dramatically to the ceiling. “If only I had a friend by my side …”
“You are so ridiculous,” said Ava, grinning despite herself. She bit her lip, pretending to think, but really she’d already decided.
She nodded.
“Good!” Tinabella said. “Now get off my bed so I can get some sleep, you monster. Things are gonna get wicked busy around here starting tomorrow.”
Lying snug in her own bed a few minutes later, listening to the muffled roar of the storm as she stared into the dark, Ava tried to sort out what had happened that evening. A day of nonstop surprises had ended with what might be the best one of all: Tinabella, back in her life as a friend. Okay, a friend tugging her along on a risky, complicated, possibly impossible mission that would definitely involve breaking a heap of school rules. But wasn’t that classic Tinabella?
If this worked, if the two of them really conquered Vivienne Morderay’s storm, maybe even the wicked witch herself, Ava knew they would go down in history as the most remarkable students Swickwit had ever seen.
Not bad for a little extra hard work and danger, she thought as sleep tugged her under. Not bad at all.
Floating in her crystal-and-platinum bathtub in a cloud of rose steam and opal bubbles, amethyst candles twinkling all around and the last Calabrian harp in Oz singing her a song kings and queens had once handed over their crowns to hear, Vivienne Morderay yawned.
Calling down Dorothy’s Gale on Swickwit had taken a surprising amount of magical energy, and she was resting to rebuild her strength before sweeping across Oz in a reign of wicked glory.
Which she would, of course, once she was done with this bath. And once she sorted out exactly what she’d like to do. There were endless options: steal every wedding ring in Winkie Country to pave her front walk, turn the Emerald City a dull maroon, transform all the giants into rock candy. Only none of these ideas seemed quite right. Quite enough.
Casting Dorothy’s Gale had been immensely satisfying, at least. The Lost Collar of Arboc had glowed a dazzling, celestial white around Vivienne’s neck, and she’d laughed and laughed, picturing the shock and dismay on the faces of everyone trapped in her old school.
That little counterspell from the teachers had been especially amusing. For one surprising moment it had almost worked, but, of course, nothing could stop the gale or the collar, and into the storm the teachers went, doomed to sleep spinning round and round until the end of Vivienne or the end of Oz, whichever came first.
The capture of the twelve Broom students shortly after had left her sighing in delight. If only Warden Pike had been caught, too, her revenge would have been complete. She gave him credit for being cautious enough not to touch the storm, but it did seem odd that he’d allowed his staff and students to put themselves in danger. He must be losing his touch.
Well, it was about time. Threnody Pike had been ancient when Vivienne was at school, and that was a hundred years ago.
Unbidden and unwelcome, images of her arrival at Swickwit drifted like the perfumed steam through her mind.
Vivienne flinched at the memory of herself then: a small, sickly purple girl with mousy-blah hair and white, unremarkable teeth.
The other children had seemed so confident as they jostled her in the Wicked Wagon, though that had changed when they reached the school. Her classmates gaped at their grim surroundings, but Vivienne narrowed her eyes. She was the child of carnival workers—before her magic, she’d been destined for a life selling caramel corn and peanuts—and she knew a performance when she saw one. When Warden Pike made his big show of lifting Wicked Mode, revealing the true nature of the school, Vivienne had taken her first lesson at Swickwit thoroughly to heart: Grown-ups are not to be trusted.
Her classmates had been the usual mix—some who thought they were good, some who knew they were wicked—but all of them had laughed at her when she demonstrated her first magic. True, tangling up people’s shoelaces wasn’t that impressive, but at the time it was all she had. She’d absorbed her second lesson then, standing alone at the front of the Nettle classroom: Strength is the only thing that matters.
Her classmates weren’t laughing long. Vivienne made it her business to become the most remarkable student Swickwit had ever seen, and within a month each of them had learned that she was not to be mocked, not to be trusted, and not to be messed with.
That had been the start of it, the first steps of her climb to become the most powerful, most celebrated, wickedest witch in all of Oz. Wickeder than Osmuth Rust. Wickeder than Filbert the Cruel. Wickeder than that overhyped West Oz witch whose name was thankfully muddled by history: Gregoria Maggery, or Magrat Hamlytown, maybe. No one was sure.
Whatever their names, Vivienne was the worst of the worst now. She had enhanced her own magic with Oz’s rarest and most wonderful artifacts, wielding extraordinary powers as effortlessly as she floated in this priceless bathtub. All her work had paid off. All her dreams had come true. Her life was perfect.
She yawned again, then sighed, scratching a frowny face into the side of the tub with one razor-sharp nail.
So why did perfect leave her feeling like … this?
A sound came from the window, and Vivienne snapped her beautiful head up to see a bedraggled mustard bird scrabbling at the sill. She huffed, disappointed. Why couldn’t it have been something interesting like a venomous kite or an enemy attack?
She peered closer at the visitor, and her eyebrows met. Was that the same bird she’d seen the day before?
One wave of her hand and the visitor was inside her lair, locked in an elaborate gold cage.
The bird hissed at her, then coughed, hacking up a few feathers.
“Well!” called Vivienne. “That’s no way for a guest tooo behave.”
Another wave, and the bird slumped down, unconscious and, because Vivienne was in a generous mood, no longer dull yellow but bright purple with fuchsia zigzags.
Vivienne leaned back amid the rose-scented opal bubbles, magicking the water a little hotter, the harp a little louder, and the candles just a little sparklier. The bird could wait for now. Oz could wait for now. Being perfectly wicked was hard work, and there was no sense rushing her plans.
She would get to it all once her full strength was back.
Just as soon as she finished this bath.
Breakfast in Nettle Tower the next morning was noisy.
A giddy, nervous energy filled the air, and there was plenty of laughter and running up and down the hall as the students geared up for their first full day without grown-up supervision.
Ava and Tinabella caused a bit of a scene when they wandered in, grabbed food, and sat side by side on one of the benches. Carmelie and Dorian, who’d clearly been saving a spot for Tinabella, slid together, whispering, and Jadis openly stared with a look of mingled suspicion and surprise.
Ava couldn’t help feeling a little thrill at the attention. There was something about Tinabella choosing her out of everyone that made her feel special. Important.
Crow was nowhere to be seen, but Henry and Jonsi came over to sit with Ava and Tinabella, their plates loaded with fried ostridon eggs and tinselberry pancakes.
“Hi,” Henry said. “How’s it going, Tinabella? Um, being back?”
Ava blinked at Henry’s boldness—then remembered he and Tinabella had shared the quest to reset Nettle Tower. Tinabella had even complimented his courage in the spiny scab flea room.
“It’s whatever,” Tinabella answered. “It’s not like any of this is new. Well”—she waved her fork at the countdown clock, now glowing with a luminous 12—“except that, obviously.”
Ava shook her head. “It’s so annoying we’re still supposed to take the test.”
“Trust Swickwit to have a backup system,” snorted Tinabella.
“You don’t think we’ll really be alone for twelve more days, do you?” Henry said. “Warden Pike will fix things before then, right?”
Ava felt another thrill as she and Tinabella shared a look. If everything went to plan, it wouldn’t be Warden Pike doing the fixing.
“It shouldn’t take that long,” said Tinabella.
“Maybe not long at all,” Ava said.
“I think being on our own will be good for us,” Jonsi said unexpectedly, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “We can finally try our strength against the upside-down dust ducks.”
Ava followed his gaze but saw nothing. She was just opening her mouth to ask what an upside-down dust duck was when the classroom door cracked open.
Crow’s head appeared, and the hubbub in the Round Room quieted.
“Hi, everyone!” he said. “Okay, so, uh, please enter! Class is now in session!”
Most of the Nettle students took their usual desks in the classroom, including Ava and Tinabella. Carmelie, Dorian, Wolfgang, and Jadis pushed theirs together against the back wall, sitting on top of them with their arms crossed.
Crow stood in Professor Mulch’s spot up front. There were dark shadows under his eyes and a nervous grin on his face, and the chalkboard beside him was covered in writing. The roaring storm outside thundered in through the missing window, but they were all getting used to the sound by now.
“Right, morning!” Crow said. “Did everybody sleep well?”
The class exchanged glances. A few people shrugged.
“I didn’t,” offered Crow. “I was up all night getting ready!”
“It shows!” called Carmelie from the back of the room.
Some kids laughed. Others shushed her.
“Okay, well,” Crow went on. “I know it’s weird that Gern put me in charge. Yeah, I am the oldest, but I’m also the worst student here. No”—he held up a hand as Ava and Margo protested—“it’s true. And you’re probably all really worried about passing your tests now because of that. I mean, what could I teach any of you? Apart from juggling, I mean.” He paused, his eyes shining. “But I think I figured out how we can totally do this.”
Ava waited, and realized that the rest of the room was waiting quietly, too. Somehow, Crow had earned the class’s respect without any of Professor Mulch’s usual shouting.
“It all comes from what Professor Mulch was telling us right before the storm hit,” Crow continued. “I was super inspired by what she said about focusing on our weakest parts and leveling up fast. So”—he flourished both hands at the chalkboard—“I made this! It’s a chart showing all the most important things we’ll be tested on.”
Ava examined the board and saw a row of subjects written across the top—Protection Spells, Magical Plants & Fungi, History of Prophecy, and more, with a dozen or so lines drawn under each. The first line under every subject said Crow.
“What are the blank lines for?” Branwen asked.
“That’s where our names go,” Crow said. “We’ll all sign up under the things we want to get better at, then erase our names once we’ve done it.”
“You want us to admit what we’re worst at?” said Beryl. “Right in front of everybody?”
Crow shook his head. “Try to think about it like Professor Mulch said: Where can we make the most progress the fastest? Look, I went first. I put my name under everything.”
There was a murmur of interest, and Ava smiled to herself. Crow’s cheerful honesty was putting everyone at ease.
“Who’s gonna teach us how to get better?” Wolfgang called from the back of the room. “Since it’s obviously not you.”
“Manners!” Tinabella snapped.
“Great question,” said Crow. “I thought we could ask for volunteers; whoever feels confident on a subject can teach the rest of us. We could always vote, too, but I think volunteers would be best.”
“So we’re teaching each other now?” said Opal.
“Only if you want to,” answered Crow.
More murmurs filled the room.
“I guess I could take light magic,” Carmelie said, raising her hand.
“Ooh, yes!” Dorian nodded. “I’m super jealous of your dark rainbows.”
“Wolfgang should be in charge of magical plants and fungi,” Carmelie went on. “He’s got all of them memorized. And Jadis has temperature charms down cold …”
Carmelie’s interest helped kick things off, and soon all the subjects were spoken for.
“Awesome, excellent!” said Crow. His eyes were shining again. “So, are we doing this? Everybody ready to help each other level up?”
His answer was a scraping of chairs as everyone rose to crowd around the board.
Margo got the chalk last, and she was just putting a final flourish on her name under Matthew’s mathcantations class when there was a heavy thump and rattle from overhead.
The Nettles all scrambled up the roots to the roof—even Henry did okay this time—where they found a harassed-looking Gern waiting for them.
He shared what news there was: no change in the storm, the Cauldron and Cobweb students were a serious handful, and an infestation of hiccuping prune moths had been discovered in the entrance hall.
When he was done, Crow proudly filled Gern in on their new self-directed study plan.
“And it was all Crow’s idea!” said Ava.
“He’s really good at being in charge,” Matthew said.
“I’m teaching temperature charms,” noted Jadis.
“Fine, fine,” said the gargoyle, waving one huge stone hand. He seemed very distracted. Ava thought she could make out new wrinkles around his eyes. “Jus’ stay safe an’ keep out o’ trouble. An’ don’ go messin’ with that storm!”
Back in the classroom there was some confusion about how to start their new level-up program, and Crow took the lead again by tackling the schedule.
This turned out to be seriously complicated, since not everyone signed up for everything, and the volunteer teachers needed a chance to learn from one another, too. But somehow Crow worked it all out, and soon the class had a neat, organized chart on the blackboard covering the full morning hours and the first hour after lunch.
The only real problem was a shortage of room, but that was solved when Jadis reluctantly agreed to allow the rest of them into the lab once the portal doors unlocked in the afternoon. Ava and Tinabella shared a grin. Neither of them had ever seen inside the lab, nor had anyone else since Jadis claimed it for herself at the start of the year and placed a curse on it that wrapped intruders in cocoons of frozen asparagus.
Crow came over to Ava and Tinabella as the class split in two, some to review astral basics with Opal at their desks, the rest to brush up on circles of protection with Branwen in the Round Room.
“How am I doing?” he asked under his breath.
“Great!” whispered Ava.
“Eh, not bad,” said Tinabella.
Henry joined them. “You’re super good at this, Crow!”
“Thanks!” Crow looked nervous and proud. “It’s tough. But I think it might be going okay.”
“You’re a natural,” Ava said firmly.
Crow beamed, then, “Oh, hey,” he called, yelling over the chatter. “Don’t forget we’ve only got twenty minutes for each subject before we switch around again!”
“So make ’em count!” yelled Branwen from the Round Room, making everybody laugh.
“And you,” Tinabella said, leaning in to whisper in Ava’s ear, “don’t forget we’ve got our own project to tackle the second these study groups are over.”
Ava nodded, her head spinning at how busy she suddenly was.
Pass the test, keep the secret, prove a point, and save the school?
Tinabella had been right: It was like old times.
