Gooseberry Bluff Community College of Magic: The Thirteenth Rib (Kindle Serial) Read Online Free Page A

alchemy professors, Zelda Akbulut, entered. Joy recognized her by her aura: turquoise patterned with splotches of a dark forest green. She backed in, carrying a tray of coffee stacked on top of a Dunkin’ Donuts box.
    “First day!” said Zelda. She spun around, spotted Joy — and the tray of coffee tipped forward off the box and splashed Joy from her feet to her waist.
    “Oh my god!” Zelda shouted. “I didn’t…I’m so sorry…are you…”
    “I’m fine,” Joy said, even though her jeans and socks were soaked in scalding coffee. “Look out for the—”
    Zelda set a three-inch pump on the soaking floor, slipped, and in struggling to retain her footing lost the box of donuts. Sugar and pastries fell in the coffee, taking on the appearance of a paste. Joy gritted her teeth and shook drops of hot coffee from her hands.
    “I’ll call Greg,” said Andy, who had somehow come out of the whole ordeal with his dress unscathed.
    Zelda had covered her mouth with one hand, and it looked as though tears were welling up in her eyes. “It’s really OK,” Joy said.
    Zelda lowered her hand and sighed. “I should have — I’m so sorry.”
    “It’s OK. I was just on my way out. We’ll talk later, OK? It’s fine.”
***
    Gooseberry Bluff, Minnesota sat on the border of Minnesota and Wisconsin on the St. Croix River just a few miles east of the Twin Cities. It had been a magic boomtown, settled by a number of minor practitioners throughout the fifties and sixties, including Arthur Stag, who founded his private college there in 1952. The community college was founded in 1965 in response to a grassroots campaign by a group of less prominent, but highly energetic, residents. Now the two schools, along with the maximum-security prison on the town’s western border, employed the majority of the inhabitants.
    Gooseberry Bluff was a beautiful town with lots of trees, views of the river, and houses set back on the ridge overlooking the town. Joy found herself admiring it again as she drove north out of town and caught I-94, headed west toward St. Paul. But the farther she drove, the more tense she became. She hunched forward over the wheel and chewed at the inside of her lips. She started talking back to the radio, looked for some music that didn’t irritate her, and finally turned it off.
    She pulled into a gas station just outside the St. Paul city limits, took a deep breath, and grabbed her satchel. She tried to keep the word “disappointment” out of her head as she walked in and made a beeline for the restroom.
    “You’re late,” a man’s voice said the moment she pushed through the swinging door.
    “Yes, well. I’m working two jobs now,” Joy said. She took a deep breath of air that smelled not of urine and disinfectant, but of wood and leather. “I wish we could meet a little closer. This isn’t a drive I want to be making once a week.”
    “It won’t be the same place next time.” The voice came from behind a massive desk stained deep reddish brown. The desk had carved lion’s claws for feet and a front panel showing the seal of the Federal Bureau of Magical Affairs. The man who stepped out from behind the desk had bright-silver hair and an aura to match.
    “Sir,” Joy said as they shook hands.
    “Agent Wilkins; Joy. Sit down, please.” The man buttoned his sport coat and sat back against the front of the desk. “I’d love to make these briefings more convenient for you, but we can’t risk meeting too close to Gooseberry Bluff. The people we’re looking for might be able to detect that kind of spatial distortion.”
    Joy sat. The man before her was Martin Shil, her handler and superior. He had brought Joy into the bureau, trained her, and personally picked out this assignment for her. He was the closest thing she had to a father since her own had died.
    “So,” Martin said. “You’ve settled in and you’ve taught your first class. I want to hear your thoughts.”
    “There isn’t much yet.