I left Straud’s realm with more questions than answers. He had told me to return home.

CEDRIC

HOME?

I THOUGHT THIS WAS MY HOME.

STRAUD

YOU ARE MEANT TO BE A GUARDIAN, THAT MUCH IS TRUE.

BUT OF MY REALM?

NO.

I WOULD NOT STEAL YOU FROM THOSE THAT NEED YOU.

STRAUD

BUT I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO TEACH ME THAUMATURGY.

STRAUD

I WILL.

BUT THERE IS SOMETHING MISSING.

RETURN TO THE MARSCAPONE SCHOOL OF MAGIC.

THERE YOU WILL FIND SOMETHING YOU’VE LOST.


But what had I lost? I had been enjoying my time in the Forgotten Hollow but if I were completely honest, I hadn’t made much progress. I still could not access the element of water. The forces were as foreign to me as they had been when I was a mortal.

I did not return to the Vatore Mansion. I felt compelled to leave for the Magicademy posthaste. Whatever it was that Straud was doing, I would not be caught thinking my personal affairs were of greater value.

I got into my car and drove.


STRAUD//

Please don't be afraid. And don't do anything stupid.

CEDRIC//

Like what?


As I drove through the streets of Astoria, everything seemed the same as I had always known it. The Crone had given me enough lectures such that I knew it had not always been this way but I, too, had my own, admittedly narrow, era of expertise. The elevated train roared over my head as I drove north. I had come to develop a sort of kinship with the system – always in motion. It was the cardiovascular system of the city that never slept.

My car inched toward my destination. I wondered, quietly, what I was to find there.


Standing on the corner of a quiet street was a monstrous building in dark brick. The Crone owned the adjacent properties as well, each in its own shade. The students lived in these places, the older students trusted with residence in the more remote locations.

I came to this place hardly understanding what it was I was looking for. I recall answering an ad I’d found for a studio apartment. It had seemed a bit far from the train but something about it made me hope no one else was vying for the place.

It was the early nineties, before the accident that had left me a vampire. No, in those days I was still a mage. Though I had no firm handle on what I was. It wasn’t until I’d spent some time at the school that I would come to understand.

I parked my car in front of the school. It was a perk of my exceptional luck that I always seemed to find a parking spot just when I needed it. I would find out later that it was because I was different than the people I’d grown up with. I belonged to those the Crone would call “the Enchanted”.

But I did not feel so enchanted as I sat in my car and looked up at the Magicademy. I felt small and anxious, full of fear of the unknown. Vlad had said something was missing. But what?

I got out of my car and was struck by the brisk wind. Winter was well on its way, the trees barren and the yard devoid of its ordinary adornment of flowers. It was then I realized, in that silence, that I was changed. I had grown. I had become more than what I was. I had given myself over to a greater cause. And slowly, but surely, I was learning what it meant to follow and to serve.

I had a key to the building, of course, but something in me compelled me to knock. Some kind of decorum was needed, I thought, for a day like today. But then, I reflected, what was today?

I waited quietly on the stoop, trying to identify the hustle and bustle I heard from inside. The voices I heard, or thought I heard…


STRAUD//

And don't do anything stupid.


The door flung open and I was standing across from a familiar face. The woman who’d taught me all the magic I’d ever know – the woman Myrtle Marscapone. A smile graced her face as she spied me. Her grin was always an odd thing, sort of mousey and tight-lipped. But there was one very obvious part of her appearance that was different.

CEDRIC

MYRTLE, HAVE YOU CHANGED YOUR HAIR?


Her smile faded as her hands rose to her head and she smoothed the hair that was secured by a large bun of thick, grey hair.

MYRTLE

IT’S NICE TO SEE YOU TOO, CEDRIC.

PLEASE COME IN.


And as she turned around, as if to spit into a jar–

MYRTLE

NO, I DON’T THINK I’VE CHANGED MY HAIR.


But I knew, as I followed her into the house, that something was different. When Davian had brought her back to life, her hair had been a deep ebony-brown, as it might have been, I’d guessed, in her youth. Was this a portent of things to come?

MYRTLE

WHY DIDN’T YOU USE YOUR KEY?


She seemed as her usual self, hair not withstanding.

CEDRIC

I… UH… DIDN’T WANT TO INTERRUPT.


I peered into the living room but was yet to see a familiar face.

CEDRIC

DOING SOME REDECORATING, I SEE?


Where was the Go set? The pipe organ? I saw a computer and of all things, a bar.

MYRTLE

CEDRIC, ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT?


STRAUD//

And don't do anything stupid.


I think I had irritated the Matron.

MYRTLE

DO YOU WANT ME TO SEND FOR MY HUSBAND?

KEVIN, PERHAPS?

CEDRIC

OH, NO RUSH.

YOU KNOW, I WAS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD AND THOUGHT I’D DROP BY.


She raised a snakelike eyebrow.

MYRTLE

YOU WERE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD.


I had told her when I’d left for Jamaica Estates. I know she’d known.

MYRTLE

I SHOULD HOPE YOU’D BEEN.


STRAUD//

And don't do anything stupid.


There was a heavy pause as I remembered Vlad’s warning, and I was afraid I’d already violated his single precept.

MYRTLE

WHY DON’T YOU HAVE A SEAT.

I’LL FETCH MY SON.


And suddenly, I was afraid.

Myrtle turned around to enter the hallway, but stopped as soon as I blurted out,

CEDRIC

AND COULD YOU FETCH ME SOME TEA?


She said nothing, only stood in place, and turned her head upon her long neck to look at me sideways.

MYRTLE

WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU WANT THAT FOR?


I fumbled over my response.

CEDRIC

I…

JUST WANT SOMETHING TO WARM MY HANDS.


The Magicademy was a drafty old broad, though in actuality it had been a long time since I’d been bothered by such things.

Myrtle, still peering at me through the corner of her eye, stuck out her right hand and gave a quick SNAP, something she often did to invoke her magicks. In an instant, a small teacup floated above a saucer in front of my person.

MYRTLE

I WILL RETURN.

PLEASE…

MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME.


It was an odd thing for her to say, and yet, completely normal in the face of all the oddity I’d encountered thus far. The teacup settled into my hands as I heard her footsteps disappear upstairs.

In my moment of quiet, I wondered how Mandarc was doing. I hadn’t heard from him in some time. Of course, for our coterie, this was a matter of days in most cases, we all kept a close watch on each other. Even if one did not speak directly to another, you’d see their messages float back and forth to each other on the public fora. I reflected that I’d seen none of that in recent memory. Was it that I’d not checked the messages or that there were none to be checked?

I considered taking my phone from my pocket to satisfy my curiosity when I heard footsteps descending the staircase. They were not the Matron’s, that much was for sure. I quickly formulated a theory – they belonged to Kevin.

Kevin and I had formed a fast friendship when we’d met here so long ago. There was something shared, both of us lingering on the fringes of society, something of outcasts.

There was something strange in those footsteps. I could not place it until,

KEVIN

CEDRIC?


I looked up.