Tonya lined up outside the Loon Lake University registrarâs office. Courses had already started, and she had been trying for weeks to get out of a third-year physics class and into the first-year English class she was supposed to be taking. How did these screw-ups happen? Torn between defying her parents and attending University of Toronto, or relenting and going to Loon Lake, she had waited until the last moment and chosen her courses in a rush. She was so flustered she had clicked the wrong selection and now the course she wanted was full.
It wasnât a long lineup, but it was moving so slowly she would need a haircut soon. Breakfast was hours ago. Tonyaâs stomach grumbled for lunch. She shouldnât even be here except the computer system had mysteriously rejected her password and wouldnât allow a reset.
She had tried phoning and email but couldnât get a reply from anybody. When things got this messed up, Aunt Helen always said, âface-to-face is best.â
Aunt Helenâs preference for face-to-face wasnât completely innocent. As a child, Tonyaâs parents had kept her auntâs powers secret. It wasnât until the summer Tonya went to work in her auntâs Herbal Healing Shop that the clients told her everything. One lady credited Aunt Helen with changing her life in grade six. A mean girl bullied her every day so one night, Aunt Helen had charmed the neighborhood dogs to howl under the bullyâs window and keep her awake all night. The next morning at school, when she threatened to keep doing it, the bully promised to reform.
Too bad Tonyaâs family were Purists, the strictest of Loon Lakeâs magic factions. Like the Trads, they kept magic from outsiders, but they also forbade its study. It was a rule her aunt chose to ignore.
Aunt Helen could have charmed Tonya up to the front of the line. Tonya sighed. After their aborted dinner, her aunt hadnât answered texts or calls. Mom admitted she was seeing specialists but would say no more. Ever since Aunt Helen insisted on kissing her and giving her that pendant, Tonya suspected the worst.
Ahead of Tonya, a girl with shiny black hair streaked with purple raised her hands over her head and posed, as if she just finished a gymnastics routine. Next, she put her hands on her hips and thrust back her shoulders like a comic book hero. When the girl started conducting an invisible orchestra, Tonya couldnât help but ask, âWhat are you doing?â
The girl turned, revealing a pretty, brown, heart-shaped face, nestled in a mane of black and purple curls. âIâm claiming my power. You must see this Ted Talk.â She held her phone out to Tonya. âWomen lose marks in school and fail in business because they get meek around assertive men.â
âHmm,â Tonya wasnât that interested in the video, but she was fascinated by a girl who wasnât embarrassed to do crazy things in public.
âIâm Tonya.â
âPriya.â She reached out and shook Tonyaâs hand like they were grown-ups which, Tonya supposed, they were.
âWhat are you in for?â
âHuh?â
Priya grinned. âWhat are you studying?â
âEnglish and History.â
âWhose history?â
âLocal history.â There was a three hundred-year-old schism between the founding families of Loon Lake. History class would be an excuse to visit City Hallâs archives and read about the feuding, in the words of the individuals who started it.
âThat sounds absolutely fascinating.â Priya chuckled.
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Tonya didnât blame her. To an outsider, the history of Loon Lake must sound yawn-worthy.
The line snailed forward. âSo, what should I take instead?â
âTake Feminist Theory in Popular Culture, with me.â On her phone, she showed Tonya the course description.
âThatâs a second-year course.â
âIâm a quick study. I just have to convince the registrar.â She smiled.
Tonya caught herself envying Priyaâs perfect teeth and striking looks. Her clothes were straight out of a Gothic novel, all black chiffon and Victorian lace. Definitely not department store stuff. If university was going to be a new beginning, Tonya wanted interesting friends like her, people who didnât remember her eating lunch alone in the high school library.
The line moved, and it was Tonyaâs turn, but Priya was taking different subjects. Their paths might not cross again for weeks.
âWait, after this, do you want to go for lunch?â
Priya flashed her perfect teeth. âThought youâd never ask.â
âHow about Mackenzie Cafeteria?â
âSure.â
Loon Lake University grouped students according to their passions and vocations. Students interested in native studies and the environment were housed in one college. Future leaders and politically active students lived in another. Nursing students shared space with students interested in science and agriculture.
âWhatâs your major?â Tonya asked Priya as she walked her bike along the path back to the dorms.
âFine arts.â
âSo, youâre at Mackenzie too.â
âTop floor,â said Priya.
âIâm on the third.â
Tonya left her bike on the rack outside and entered the main floor cafeteria, watching for her roommate, Lynette. With lecture halls on the second floor, and their dorm room on the third, she was always running into her. With her cool new friend in tow, Lynette was the last person she wanted to see.
As they lined up with their trays, Tonya checked for messages from her parents or Aunt Helen. Both numbers went straight to voicemail. That was unusual for Dad but not for Aunt Helen. For good measure she sent them each a text. Why werenât they responding?
The line moved forward, and she handed the cashier her meal plan card. After lunch she would try again.
âOne thing about Mackenzie,â said Priya as they sat at a table, âif I sleep in, I can go downstairs and catch my first lecture in my PJs.â
âNo tromping through snow.â Tonya knew too well what to expect from winter in the region. It was one of the reasons she had wanted to study in Toronto. At least her parents had insisted she stay on campus.
âSo, tell me about Loon Lake, local girl.â Priya smiled encouragingly.
âItâs a pretty little city.â
âPicturesque. What else?â
âThe Village of Loon Lake is hundreds of years old.â
âAny original buildings still around? Iâd love to take some pictures,â said Priya.
âThe new part of town is much nicer. Have you visited the farmerâs market?â
âWho wants to photograph vegetables? I want to visit Loon Lake Cemetery. The city website says there are tombstones 300 years old.â
âWhatâs so great about that?â Tonya didnât like the way Priyaâs eyes lit up when she said cemetery. There were good reasons to keep outsiders from getting too interested in that place. âAnything else you want to see?â
âThereâs this tall log cabin on Kenny Road. I saw it when I drove in from Toronto.â
âThat would be my auntâs Herbal Healing Shop.â
âWe could visit both.â
âItâs just a boring store.â
âWith interesting architecture.â
âIf you like log cabins we should go to the Ice House. They used to cut blocks of ice out of the lake in the winter and store them in sawdust all summer. Itâs more authentic than the store.â
Priya took a bite of her veggie lasagna before she answered. âI should warn you, when somebody tells me not to do something, thatâs exactly what I want to do.â
âThen letâs hit the cemetery, right after lunch.â
âNo way!â Priya laughed. âI have class. In fact,â she checked her phone, âIâm almost late. Whatâs your number?â
Priya stayed long enough to add Tonyaâs contact info before rushing to class. The moment Priya headed for the staircase at the opposite end of the building, Tonya called her Dad.
No answer. Not good.
With the weird way her family wouldnât discuss Aunt Helenâs illness, Tonya feared her Mom was protecting her from something she considered worse than diseaseâmagic.
Between classes, Tonya called Loon Lake Hospital, but Aunt Helen hadnât been admitted. Tonya rode her bike west through campus and cut through the cemetery, coming out through a small break in the tall, wrought iron fence opposite the shop. She crossed the small field between cemetery and store only to find the closed sign posted. Tonya knocked but nobody answered. She tried phoning, but her auntâs mailbox was full. It seemed Tonya wasnât the only one who couldnât reach Aunt Helen.