Jiwa

Chapter One

"Are you sure? You're totally sure?" I asked again. I eyed the dubious-looking paintbrush she had placed in my hands.

"Ohmigosh, it's fine!" she said, annoyed. "Just put it on the canvas!" I glanced from her to the paintbrush and sighed. Against my better judgment, I pressed the bristles against the canvas.

I immediately regretted it. A bright light flashed, and blood started dripping down from the paintbrush. I sighed and raised my hand. The water in the blood swirled off of the canvas and back into the brush, leaving a swath of red. Kelly shook her head and pulled out another one, labeling the red swath in 'blood' with neat, careful letters.

"Here, try this one," she said, handing another brush to me. I sighed and pushed the bristles to the left of the bloodprint. The same thing happened. However, instead of blood, I could smell salt and made a note of the sea-painting paintbrush.

Since my arrival at the Academy of Peculiar Artistry, I had been taken under the wing of Kelly, who specialized in painting. I specialized in pottery (we liked to call ourselves the Potters). It had been the way I was admitted into the school. That and my hefty tuition, of course. I was helping Kelly to label all of the Mystic Paint Brushes she had created. She had made them with a hex she had written for class but had made a tad too many, and now only knew for sure what half of them were. I wished I was allowed to write hexes. But newcomers were restricted to charms. In a month or so, I would be admitted to the level of my fellow Third-Years: charms, and supervised hexes. I recited my charm in my head-the one that supposedly made my sculptures come alive.

For all the day is long and hard, rise above ye baird.

"Hey!" Kelly squealed. I was snapped out of my daydreaming and yanked the paintbrush away in alarm. My thoughts had left the task at hand, and now the ocean was a puddle at our feet. I hung my head and prayed none of the Blue-Footed Librarians happened to chance upon us anytime soon. Kelly and I raised our hands together, sloshed the puddle out the window, and hoped no one was sitting below the library window.

In hopes to redeem myself, I smashed another paintbrush on the canvas and instantly regretted it. This time, I squealed as a plume of smoke shot from the tip of the brush. I yanked the brush away as flames consumed the canvas. This time, a Librarian flapped over and raised a wing. As they did, the flames ceased, leaving smoke marks on the canvas. The Librarian turned and regarded us with one eye.

All of the Librarians were a special kind of almost-magic bird called a Blue-Footed Boobie. Their eyes and feet were bright blue, hence their name. You could probably look it up. And by the way that their blue eyes were eyeing me, I could tell we were in for a serious reprimand.

"Squawk! SQUAWK!" I set my mouth and nodded. "We completely understand, Miss," I said gravely. The Boobie squawked one more time and flapped away. I sighed and turned to Kelly.

"OK, but you're the one taking the lunch detention," I said. Before she could protest, I got up and sprinted out of the library, towards the Pottery Wing. I needed the lunch period so that I could try out my charm. I had three tiny clay sculptures of a seed in a pot. If my charm worked, a clay plant should start growing out of them. Should.

I walked into the Pottery Wing and breathed in the familiar scent of clay. A few younger kids walked past me and smiled. I was halfway to class when another younger kid ran up to me and tugged on my shirt.

"Ma'am! Can you fix my face? A mean kid smudged it!" The poor thing was about to cry. I gently took his smiley face sculpture out of his hand and pinched my fingers in the air in front of it. The smiley face reverted back to being a lovely grin, and the child beamed. It was always nice to help the Tods.

When I walked into my studio, a few of my fellow third-years looked up and waved. I waved back, walked over to my table, and sat down. I spread my fingers out wide above the three tiny clay jars. Sensing something was about to happen, a few of the kids got up and stood behind me to watch.

"Let's hope this works," my classmate Rivi muttered. "And doesn't literally backfire as that turd Geoffs' clay car did."

I sighed. Then, taking a deep breath, I said, "For all the day is long and hard, rise above ye baird!" As I uttered the last line, the plant pots began to shiver and quake. And to my satisfaction, three tiny vines sprouted from the pots!

But something was wrong with them. They did not have a typical peak at the end of the vine, they had a huge bulb. Suddenly, the middle bulb sprouted fangs and thrashed around in the pot. I shrieked, and I heard Rivi yell, "It's alive!"

Suddenly, Madame Tembikar was at my side. With a flick of her wrist, all three pots seized up and froze into hard brown clay figures. She gave me a look from beneath her glasses and flicked her angular chin towards her office. I slunked after her amid the stares of the other students. She waved her hands up and down, making the hush now motion, then closed the door.

"What was that?" asked Madame Tembikar. I opened my mouth to protest but was cut off by Madame Tembikar. "I mean, where did you learn that? I am certain I have never taught you anything like that! That was incredible!" I pulled up short. "What? You're...not mad?" Madame Tembikar laughed.

"No! I need to cultivate this new talent! What year are you in?" I sighed, and said, "I'm in Year Three, but I still can only do charms." Madame Tembikar clasped her hands and said, "Dearie, we can work with that. By the end of the week you should be practically LIVING in my studio!"