ANDROMEDA

The Brooks Academy.

As I stared at the sign, my mind immediately flashed back to my own time at the magical academy in the Three Kingdoms. I’d spent many years at the premiere school of magic in the desert kingdom of Mèilì. I’d only attended to increase my own power—it had been the best place to do that, or so I had been told. But those fools at the academy had consistently pulled me back, tried to keep me down every time I excelled beyond their expectations—which had been most of the time. If it hadn’t been for my mentor, Matias, the entire experience would have been a waste of my time and talent.

As we headed toward the stairs, I mused that this school might be of some use to me. I’d seen much evidence of magic on the way here. Perhaps this was where people learned how to use the magic that seemed to make this world go.

What didn’t make sense was that Andi, and Bethany for that matter, would be a part of such a place. If Andi was anything like Bethany, they were a pair of weak women living a frivolous existence. Unless. . . . Was Andi secretly strong?

I followed in Bethany’s wake, up the stairs and then through the door into the entryway of the Academy. A woman who sat at a desk looked up and waved at us as we went by her. Bethany turned down a corridor and we passed by several doors. I briefly considered these might be cells, but given the name I assumed they were classrooms. Bethany and Andi must be teachers. Did that mean they were skilled in magic?

Bethany stopped at a door and glanced at me. “Um . . . what are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” I threw back.

“I’m going into my room. I suggest you do the same before all hell breaks loose.” She gestured with her head to the door beside me.

I examined it, wondering what lay beyond it, waiting for my arrival. When I moved closer, my pulse quickening, I saw words written in big colorful letters on the door: Ms. Andi. I turned back to Bethany. “Right, of course. I . . . guess I’ll go in, then?”

Bethany’s face scrunched up. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.” Then she pulled her door open and stepped inside.

The woman who had been my guide had left me alone. With no other viable options, I knew I would have to enter that room. If it was expected of Andi, then I needed to face what was on the other side. How bad can it be?

I allowed myself a moment before taking a deep breath, opening the door, and stepping inside. A chorus of tiny high voices assaulted me first. The little bodies that belonged to the voices all turned on my entry.

“Ms. Andi!!”

Oh, crap. As if they were all tethered to each other, the little army descended upon me. “No! Stop.” Like I hadn’t spoken, they surrounded me, arms reaching for me, tiny, sticky hands pawing at me, delighted grins, some with gooey substances dripping down to their chins.

Small children were something I’d made a point to avoid in my own world; they were of no use to me, and I found them not only useless but annoying. Dammit! I threw a desperate look over my shoulder. Should I retreat? Go back to the underground carriage and try to find my way back to the room I’d awakened in?

There are no answers back there, Andromeda!

Somehow I needed to get through this so I could get back to Bethany and ask her more questions. First on the list: who was this Andi and why the hell would she choose such a life? Maybe this was a punishment for Andi and therefore a punishment for me. After all, I couldn’t see any other reason someone would force me to deal with these little monsters. My Helio was more well-behaved after he’d eaten tainted mushrooms.

A little blond child, wearing a frilly dress, wrapped her arms around my thigh. “I love you, Ms. Andi.” If only I had my magic, I could freeze them all solid. . . .

The noise was deafening, and their little paws wouldn’t stop reaching for me, so I did the only thing I could think of. “Sit. Down!” The high volume along with the commanding tone I’d used on my hundreds of armies, caused them all to freeze. Slowly, they backed away, several of them looking as if they might burst into tears. That’s the last thing I need. Sniveling children.

Once they were cleared out of the way and I had moved farther into the classroom, I noticed a ridiculously colorful rug on the ground in the shape of a circle. There were small markings on the rug that were evenly spaced out, and the children, one by one, sat in the marked spots, as if they were soldiers falling in line. Now we’re talking.

The children sat cross-legged, their hands folded in their laps, eyes trained on me.

Now what? If I’d known this was what I would face, I would have asked Bethany what to do. The silence carried on long enough that a few of them began to get squirmy. Soft giggles sounded from somewhere in the bunch. I supposed I couldn’t leave them like that forever. I was just about to ask one of the little puppies what should happen next, when the door behind me opened.

An older woman strode in, wearing attire that was vastly different from mine—a light gray pair of pants with a jacket of the same color. She held a clipboard in one hand. “Good morning, Ms. Andi. Children.” A pair of spectacles balanced at the tip of her nose, so close to the end I couldn’t imagine how they didn’t fall off.

The children cheered at the woman’s greeting. “Principal Rodriguez!”

This woman was a principal. A principal of what? It appeared she had some authority in this school, was someone important, so I remained guarded, despite the fact that she smiled and waved at the children.

Rodriguez moved closer, gave me a nod. “Are you ready?”

“For?” I said without thinking.

“Goodness, Ms. Andi, I’m sure you remember today is your turn for a classroom visit as part of your performance review.”

Once again, I shot out a response. “Who are you to review my performance?”

Despite my narrowed gaze on her, Rodriguez laughed, as if my words were a joke to her. “I see I’ve caught you in the middle one of your stories, Ms. Andi. How wonderful.” She shrugged with a delightful expression on her face, then moved past the seated children. “I’ll just sit in the back and listen.”

“Storytime!” one of the children called out.

“Yay!” others chimed.

When more voices joined in, I moved in front of the children, gave them my fiercest expression, and held up a hand, palm facing the little cretins.

The children quieted but that didn’t solve my situation. Was this principal actually expecting me to spin some kind of a tale for them? I glanced over to her, and she tilted her head, as if waiting on me. Revealing my true identity was out of the question, which meant I would have to participate in this absurdity.

A wooden chair sat nearby, and I pulled it closer and perched on the end of it. “This tale starts with a fairly handsome warrior—if you like that do-gooder type—who was tasked with conquering the powerful—and beautiful, I might add—dark queen.”

Some of the children’s eyes widened, while other children seemed to be keeping themselves occupied by picking at their wardrobe or skin. Odd.

“The warrior Kane was weak and stupid and—”

The children gasped, and when I glanced to Rodriguez she scowled, but I pressed on.

“The dark queen wanted to rule all three kingdoms, for she knew there was no one in all the lands more qualified than she, no one more powerful. The dark queen and the warrior fought long and hard, and the queen was surprised how long the warrior lasted, even when she used her magic on him.”

“Magic?” one little boy cut in.

“Of course, magic,” I said. “Not like the magic here, though. Beautiful magic. Magic only I—er—the dark queen could yield. And when the dark queen finally had the warrior backed into a corner, his sword having fallen from his hand, she showed no mercy, finishing him off with one swift surge from her palm.” With the students still in rapt attention, I held my hands up and splayed my fingers out to them. “And poof! He was gone.”

Another gasp came from several of the children. One little girl in the front raised her hand.

“What is it, child?”

Her head cocked to the side, she said, “Why didn’t the hero win?”

“Were you not paying attention? The hero did win. The dark queen—”

“No,” a little boy called out, rising to his knees. “She was the bad guy.”

“Yeah,” several other children shouted.

I balled my fists at my side. I wouldn’t strike a child, but if I had my magic that boy would be a toad. “No she wasn’t. She was the hero.”

Rodriguez stood then, “Ms. Andi!” she cut in. “I think we need to talk.”