Chapter Twenty-Three

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Ten minutes later, I was the first to arrive for Mrs. Hendrey's class and had to wait for fourth-period stragglers to clear out before gaining entry. Once they were gone and the classroom was empty, I went in and sat in my desk, folding my hands to rest on top. Mrs. Hendrey barely looked up, pointedly ignoring me while glancing at every other student that entered with a warming smile. As if I didn't already know Mrs. Hendrey didn't want me here.

Who knew? Maybe my father intimidated her.

I didn't move as instruction began and Mrs. Hendrey didn't look my way. Instead, she stared pointedly at the back row, though I felt everyone else's gazes resting on my back, curious. It was as though they all understood what she was doing and why. All I had to do was get through the hour—not even—and I'd be free.

It'd be easier if I could tune her out.

Or, perhaps I could suggest that she utilize a fact-checker for her lesson plan.

Raising my chin, I cocked my head to the right and tried to ignore the girls whispering behind me. What they were talking about wasn't audible—it could be about the weather for all I knew—but it was easier to pay attention to Mrs. Hendrey than think about. Knowing my luck, the moment I appeared to not be paying attention would be the time she finally noticed me.

"Spellwork can be tricky," Mrs. Hendrey said, transitioning away from the discussion about alters and their prospective tools. "The wording is important, for if you say one backward, it can be conveyed incorrectly, with disastrous results. There are guides that teach dark magic, but you won't find those here."

So wrong.

"We will begin with simple spells in WC-1. Most of you won't succeed with those until well into WC-3 or 4. It takes hard work and concentration, and—"

That's not right.

Rolling my eyes, I dipped my head to hide the reaction and started to trace the grains of wood on the top of my desk with my finger. I bit my cheek, barely keeping a chuckle over one of my mother's lessons from escaping. She'd showed me how a spell for beauty could go wrong and had wound up with buck teeth that her thinned-out lips couldn't hide. It didn't fade for three hours. "Personal gain comes attached to bad karma," she'd said. "Intent goes a long way, Noreena."

The image faded from my mind and I heard nothing. Silence. Slowly, I lifted my head and saw Mrs. Hendrey watching me. The heat of the students' gazes made my back warm. I turned sideways and caught them staring. Shifting forward again, I met Mrs. Hendrey's eyes and raised my eyebrows.

"Did you want to add something, Miss Dwyer?"

"Me?" I pointed to myself. Why would I?

Mrs. Hendrey sighed, appearing exasperated, and looked to the ceiling as she moved to the right and pointed to the board that she'd been making notes on. "If you're going to interrupt lectures to say I'm 'not right', please. Elaborate."

Oh, no. I'd said that aloud? "I, uh—no." I clamped my lips shut and shook my head. "I didn't mean to interrupt, I'm sorry."

"With your eidetic memory, it's unlikely you forgot why you did. Or is that the amnesia?"

"Neither." I narrowed my eyes. "I just didn't realize I'd spoken aloud. I'll be more careful the next time you're wrong."

"Then if you don't mind, I'll continue," she said, and turned her back, and I couldn't tell if the snickers behind me were for her or me.

Just do it. They deserve an education, too.

I cleared my throat and shifted, raising my hand halfway. "Actually..."

Mrs. Hendrey, already returning to her notes, dropped her hand to her side and turned back with another sigh. "Yes, Miss Dwyer?" She slowly lowered her eyes from the ceiling to me. "Do you have another apology, or does that come after the interruption?"

"Neither." I grinned wide and raised my finger up as I turned in my seat so everyone could see as I spoke. "You wanted me to elaborate?"

"Of course."

I dropped my hand to my lap. "Yesterday, you said they should buy candles because it can add to what you cast, which is true. However, you never said anything about making them yourself. Doing that makes it even more powerful because it's personal. Each ingredient can be cleansed, blessed, or even charmed. The intent of the spell can start there."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows.

Ignoring the condescension in her tone, I licked my lips and turned to face the class. "Some spells are dark because of what you have to do to complete them or you haven't been taught to cast a circle first to keep the good energy in, the bad out, and whatever you conjure from escaping. Of course, that begins with grounding and shielding. Other spells are dark because of intent, even if they are seemingly harmless—kind of like what the prankster is doing. There is no white, grey, or black magic. That's all just jargon. It's simply good, helpful"—I balanced an uneven scale with my palms face-up and looked down— "or bad. I call that stupid because it's the user and not the magic. All you need to do is find your trigger, so learn to meditate or something and you won't have to wait to succeed." I looked back up and smiled, turning back to Mrs. Hendrey as I dropped my hands and shrugged. "Did I miss the lecture about the Rede and Threefold rule, or should I elaborate some more? You'd be surprised at what I know."

Mrs. Hendrey's jaw began to tick as she held my gaze. Then she shook her head and smiled to the rest of the class. "Well, there you have it. Basics from Miss Noreena Dwyer, who wasn't here at the beginning of the term when we covered that."

I rolled my eyes and a couple of students chuckled. "I would have thought history and rules would've been first up."

"The syllabus was switched around this term," a quiet girl said from the back.

"Yes. Well." Mrs. Hendrey glanced at the lock and then to me. "So, you took my advice and talked to your father in order to catch up?"

"I talked with... my parent." I nodded and my voice faded. Who knew my mother's mandatory lessons would be this handy? It was too bad that ethics weren't up for discussion. With the way Mrs. Hendrey talked to students, I'd love to explain the definition for respect, though then I'd have to look in the mirror. Would my mom be proud of my retention, the fact that I was accepting my gifts, or disapprove of my attitude?

When had I become such a bitch?

"Next time, hold your tongue or I'll have to ask your father to follow the syllabus so that interruptions are kept to a minimum."

"Oh, it wasn't my father—"

The bell rang, cutting off my retort.

It was probably for the best, I thought as I clamped my lips and grabbed my bag from the floor. Even admitting that I had an attitude with Mrs. Hendrey wasn't about to stop me from telling her what I thought of Devland and who my mother was—she just got under my skin. It didn't even have to be triggered with words. But if she hated me because I was Devland's offspring, how would she react to knowing the other side? I mean, Calin said Briarville would be covered, but then her knowledge could be just as lacking there as it had been today.

"Miss Dwyer? Please stay a moment."

I laughed, already at the door, and waved over my shoulder behind me. "Sorry! No grading, remember? This is me time."

Racing down the hall, I was the first one to exit the towers. I ran all the way to the parking lot to wait for Calin and tried to push WC-1 out of my mind. Eventually, Mrs. Hendrey was going to call me on my attitude. As soon as Calin arrived, my zen lessons would begin. I could bide my time imagining the fun setting Mrs. Hendrey and the rest of the community straight once Duvessa was held accountable.

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