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“One thing you need to learn about aura families is that they tend to be wealthy or royal. Or both.” He walks around to the side door to grab my luggage.
“Right. Makes sense, I guess.” I look around. “I just didn’t consider there would be royals here at the academy.”
“Yeah.” He shuts the side door. “I’m sorta one of them.”
“Whoa. Seriously? Are you a prince?”
He laughs. “Nah. We don’t really use those terms. And ‘royal’ is just a word we use to say someone has been born into the ruling family for that circle. There are no crowns or coronations. The head of each royal family is on the aura council, and that’s it. They’re the ones who make important decisions for the Guardians and auras as a whole.”
“Who’s the head of your family?”
“My grandmother,” he says. “Hester McCoy.”
“I have a lot to learn.” I grab one of the overstuffed suitcases from him. It surprises me how light it feels, how easily I’m able to carry it. My aura powers must really be kicking in. “Like, for instance, what Reavers are. And why we have to hunt them. Can’t we just leave them alone?”
“Well… For that you’ll need a history lesson. I’ll let Apollo take that one.”
“Apollo? Don’t tell me gods exist too.”
He smiles. “Maybe not Greek gods. Apollo Finn is a teacher here. He’s pretty involved with training the first years.”
I gaze up at the soaring towers of Aura Academy. All we need is a bolt of lightning to come shuddering down to the ground in order to make it look even more intimidating. There is none, though. Instead, the building itself seems to breathe as the candles flicker in the windows and clouds gather around the stone walls.
I gulp. This is my new home. And it doesn’t look comfy in the slightest. It’s impressive, sure, and Gothic AF. Don’t get me wrong—I like my fiction dark. But that’s the thing. I like myfictiondark. I don’t need that in my real life too.
Cooper leads the way. After we set off, he looks over at me and must see the horror written all over my face because he says, “It’s going to be okay, you know.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? I’m not going to be eaten by a werewolf in my sleep?”
“The werewolves here prefer their meat cooked.” He grins.
I shake my head slightly. We’re almost at the door, and my stomach keeps flipping around like an Olympic gymnast.
“It’s pretty late, so I’ll take you straight to Octavia so she can set you up,” Cooper says. “You’ll probably get tomorrow off so you can adjust to everything. You won’t even have to start lessons until the day after tomorrow.” He pauses then adds, “And the food here is really good.”
Cooper places a hand on the six-foot-wide, ten-foot-tall wooden door, and it swings open with a hearty creak. Even my bones tremble.
The light inside the castle is barely any brighter than outside. My breath shivers out of my body.
When I look to my left and right, I see the strange alcoves built into the walls. Inside each one is a candle. “What’s with the lack of electricity?”
“We have electricity. But we also have magic candles.”
“Magic?”
“They never go out,” Cooper explains. “And they don’t burn anything.” He aims a breath at one, and the flame flickers but remains strong.
“That’s kinda cool,” I admit.
We walk through the empty corridor. I cringe at every one of my echoing footsteps. It seems as though everyone is in bed, and I don’t want to wake anyone up. One thing I notice about the huge space is that it’s surprisingly warm, although I’d figured we’d be freezing our nipples off both inside and outside the building. I wonder if the central heating is magic too.
“What’s Octavia like?” I ask, nervous about meeting the head teacher so quickly after hours of travelling.
“She’s over eighty years old and very powerful,” he says.
In my head, I’m picturing a wizened witch without any teeth, but maybe she’s a plump, grandmotherly type. I keep pondering as Cooper leads me through the winding hallways, one of my suitcase wheels begins to squeak. I try to adjust it—I don’t want to wake anyone up—but it’s a lost cause.
Candlelight illuminates the dour faces of the portraits on the wall. Eyes seem to follow me as my steps quicken, and a shiver runs down my spine. “Who are these people?”
