I hesitate for a long moment, searching for any way this deal could fuck me over.
“Fine,” I say at last, placing my hand in hers and giving it a firm shake. “Deal.”
Electricity tingles in my palm and migrates upwards, enveloping my body in warmth. I pull away from my aunt with a gasp of surprise.
“What the fuck was that?” I demand, staring at my tingling palm.
“A witch’s deal,” Celeste exclaims.
“When two witches—or warlocks—make a deal, their magics collide, creating an unbreakable vow,” Amanda takes over. Shock widens her eyes. “If either of you break your end of the deal, your magic will rebel, usually causing immense pain.”
“This is to keep you from running off,” Delaney says, her smile widening, unveiling straight white teeth. “But I also wanted to see something.”
“See what?” I snap, feeling inexplicably betrayed.
I don’t trust Delaney further than I can throw her, but she should’ve said that our deal would be sealed by magic. I wouldn’t have done anything differently, but I deserved to know before agreeing.
“See if you have magic. And I was right. You do.”
I suddenly feel lightheaded. Adrift. Weightless. A boat without an anchor.
What is it that Amanda said about a witch’s deal? Magics colliding?
I guess that explains the shock on Amanda’s face and the triumphant smirk on Delaney’s.
“I bet everyone with witch’s blood has some magic,” I snap, shaking my hand out as if that can somehow rid the limb of the strange tingly sensation.
“Perhaps.” Delaney doesn’t sound convinced, and her smile doesn’t fade. “Now, get dressed. You have class in exactly twenty-two minutes.”
I wonder if knowing exact time is a witch’s thing…or a Delaney thing. My money’s on the latter.
Without another word, my aunt stalks out of the room, her chin hefted imperiously and her hands clasped behind her back. I wait until she’s gone before whirling on Amanda and Celeste.
“Is she for real?” I snap.
“You can’t talk to the Mother like that,” Celeste whispers, her gaze flicking towards the still open doorway as if she expects Delaney to materialize like a damn poltergeist.
“Like what?”
“Like you did,” she says. “She’s punished people for less than that.”
I snort and move towards the connected bathroom with my clothes. “I’d like to see her try.”
I change quickly and then follow Celeste out the door and down the hall. Amanda left while I was in the bathroom, though I have no idea where she went.
“Usually, you’ll get up a little earlier than this to get breakfast,” Celeste says, some of her earlier trepidation gone as she goes into “tour guide” mode. She points towards two double doors. “That leads to the cafeteria.”
“What is this place even called?” I ask, gawking.
Now that we’re out of the initial hallway—which boasted nothing but wooden doors—I see that the interior of the building is a marvel in architecture. We seem to be in a large, cylinder-like room. A circular staircase snakes upwards, stopping at every floor. I try to remember if I’ve seen a building like this in town but come up blank.
“You know I can’t answer that.” Celeste leads me towards the staircase and begins the trek upwards, one of her hands hovering over the railing.
The staircase is a rich marble that contrasts beautifully with the white-tiled flooring and similarly colored walls.
“I don’t need to know the location,” I insist. “But what is this place called? Witch school?”
Her lips twitch.
