Root Rot Academy: Term 1 by Rhea Watson

Author:Rhea Watson [Watson, Rhea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-08T06:00:00+00:00

14

Bjorn

“I understand the concerns about having another sabbat celebration so soon after the Mabon incident, but this is not up for discussion.”

Standing at the helm of the staff table, captain of the ship, steely-eyed and stern, Jack’s tone left zero room for objection, and anyone stupid enough to argue with him right now would get a verbal evisceration bound to leave a horrible scar. Dressed in a severe black suit, Root Rot’s headmaster had an aura about him today that dared anyone to fuck with him—because he was in the mood to beat someone bloody. I’d seen the look many times before. In fact, I had owned that look for centuries.

“The Samhain celebration has been vetted and approved by the administration,” he continued gruffly, hands threaded behind his back, parchment notecards stacked neatly off to the side of the table. Going off book now. How uncharacteristic. “So, we’ll be moving forward accordingly, same as every year.”

My colleagues exchanged glances with one another along the table, a few clearing their throats, others shaking their heads with disapproval. Of course, none of them glanced my way to swap displeasure with, and the only one among them who usually did was lost in her own little world tonight. Seated across from me, Alecto continued her staring contest with the tabletop, dragging her finger back and forth, drawing abstract shapes along the wood.

Strange: whenever Jack spoke at these Sunday night staff meetings, Alecto Clarke was among the handful who really listened, her attention undivided and her pulse pitter-pattering.

Tonight? Nothing. Not even a flutter.

But we had all been a little off lately. Ten days after the Mabon incident, Root Rot Academy was still finding its way back to normal. Students had gone on lockdown for seven days following the serpent outbreak, ushered from class to class, den mothers and security working overtime to ensure no one walked the halls unsupervised. All our classes had a few unfamiliar shadows lurking about, watching, jumping in to quell any nonsense—usually too abruptly for my liking, but I had let it pass. The punishment only lasted a week; I could handle someone sidestepping my authority for a measly week.

While the administration might have approved the Samhain celebration, Halloween and ancient rites combined into quite the party here at Root Rot under the Clemonte administration, Jack had been on edge for days—and from the look on his face, the tension in his shoulders, he wasn’t about to draw a carefree breath anytime soon. On the rare occasion that I happened upon Iris Prewett stalking the halls, she had also been in more of a piss-poor mood than usual, her patience paper-thin and her temper triggered by something as simple as a student sneezing.

Clearly they had been fighting about it.

Despite public perception that her and Jack were on the same team, that prickly witch shared the opinion of many around the table: students shouldn’t be allowed to celebrate anything after what happened in the dark that night.

I understood it—the fear. One day it’s a hex gone wild, the next it’s an assault that the victim doesn’t wake up from.

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