Spearwood Academy Volume One (The Spearwood Academy Book 1)

Spearwood Academy Volume One (The Spearwood Academy Book 1) by A.S. Oren

Book: Spearwood Academy Volume One (The Spearwood Academy Book 1) by A.S. Oren Read Free Book Online
Authors: A.S. Oren
Triton says.
    The others follow his example and I nod my head. “Night.”
    Once inside the confine of my bedroom, I breathe a sigh of relief. I have once again escaped having to turn in front of them; something I never want them to see. My skin falling off, and my bones cracking . . . not at all elegant, compared to how they transform with ease and grace.


    I sigh as I walk into the Backwaters; time for my magic tutoring session with Mr. Bullock . I just call him the Grinch. If he had been alive during the time of Dr. Seuss, I think he would have based the Grinch on him. His heart has to be three sizes too small. He makes the Dalek from Doctor Who seem warm and cuddly.
    I open the door and peek inside, hoping that I might have beat him here for the first time. I’m not in luck, this time. Grinch stands next to the desk, his hands behind his straight back. I think his injuries have finally started to lessen with their pain; doesn’t make him any less of a grump though.
    “Let’s get this over with I would like to enjoy my weekend.”
    “Yeah? So would I.”
    He gives me a sneer and turns to face the desk. He waves his hand and a simple, white feather materializes on the desk. It may appear innocent, but that damned little thing is the current bane of my existence.
    “You know what to do.”
    “Yeah, yeah, make the darn thing float above a foot.”
    I move to stand in front of the desk and stare at the feather. I put my hand out, pointing my palm at it. I think about the fact that I want it to move under my control. It wiggles, but doesn’t even get a half an inch into the air.
    I hold my breath and try harder, imagining it move into the air, again, just a wiggle. This goes on for at least ten minutes before I let a heavy breath out, walk over to the student desk, and take a seat. “That is impossible.”
    He lets out a sigh. “No, it’s not. You’re just not doing it right.”
    “Whose fault is that? You’re my tutor, tutor me.”
    His cheeks flush with pink and I roll my eyes. Boys, their minds always in the gutter, I swear. “I can’t get better until I know what I am doing wrong.”
    He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine. Come here.” I stand again, with sluggish feet I walk over to him. I put my hand out. He sighs and walks over to me. Grabbing my arm, he rubs the muscle on the underside of my wrist with two of his fingers. I desperately want to pull my arm out of his grasp, but I know he is doing it for a reason, at least I hope he is.
    “Relax your muscles in your wrist and hand, you have them too tight. The air element is meant to be calm with things like this. If you are trying to cause a tornado, then you can be as tense as you want.”
    I let the muscles in my body relax. “Now, don’t just picture the feather floating through the air. Picture the air currents moving under it. After all, it is the element we are working with right now.”
    “How am I supposed to picture air currents?”
    “However you want to, there is no rule. If air was visible, how do you think it would look?”
    I guess clouds. With my eyes open, I try to picture fluffy, white clouds acting like a pillow and lifting up the feather high into the air. It moves, until it’s at least three feet in the air. I smile, I’ve done it! With my happiness distracting me, I lose the visual and the feather floats down to the floor.
    I look to Bullock. Nothing, Not even a good job. I wonder what crawled up his butt and killed his happiness. “Now, try to move it around the room.”
    “Don’t go getting too excited now,” I mumble as I stare down at the feather.
    “I’ll be excited when I don’t have to spend my free time teaching you kid stuff.”
    “Then quit. My heart won’t bleed if you can’t teach me anymore.”
    “I can’t do that, so we’ll just have to stand each other until you can do magic on your own.”
    “What is Perlow offering you anyway? Can’t be money, or objects, can

Similar Books


Lurlene McDaniel

On Cringila Hill

Noel Beddoe

Death Shoots a Birdie



Cat Johnson

First One Missing

Tammy Cohen

A Catered Affair

Sue Margolis


Tom Perrotta