by Elena Lawson
That file was thick. The edges worn. I pulled it out and set it atop the others, flipping it open. Inside, at the very top of the pile was a photo of a man with dark hair and green eyes. He was tall and wore a long pea-coat. I didn’t think he knew the photo was being taken by the way he looked over his shoulder.
A gold ring circled his index finger. The design a bird with a golden eye.
All the breath whooshed from my body, and my hands shook as I lifted the photo up, tilting it into the light. It was him, I was sure of it. My father, Alistair Hawkins. And if I wasn’t sure, when I lifted the photo, beneath it I caught a scribble of red ink that told me so.
I stuffed it into the pocket of my borrowed pajamas. I could agonize over it later, I thought, swallowing down the urge to cry. I had to hurry. I was fairly sure Bianca wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, but I couldn’t be sure.
And Headmaster Sterling hadn’t returned for dinner, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t return at all. Though it was doubtful at this late hour.
I flipped through the documents, finding information on possible hideouts. Possible plans. More pictures of other witches who formed the radical group. But there was nothing to indicate foul play. Unless you counted the word ‘eliminated’ scrawled over a sheet that held my father’s description.
And then I noticed something I hadn’t before; on the same page in a block of text describing my father’s role in the group was a blacked-out block of words. The beginning of the sentence read: It’s possible Hawkins attained sensitive information pertaining to—but the rest was completely blacked out.
What had he found out?
I flipped through more pages. More files. But I found nothing. If the clock atop his mantle was to be trusted, I’d already been in his office for an hour. I couldn’t risk staying much longer.
The desk! I hadn’t checked the desk. I snapped my fingers for my sigil to move faster as I ran over to the large mahogany monstrosity. There were several drawers in each side, and I rushed to check each one, checking for trap doors or secret compartments... feeling a bit silly when I didn’t find any.
All that was inside was quills and ink and a half a bottle of brandy and some cigars. Atop the desk were stacks of documents and...
The words appeared on the sheet of parchment before my eyes. My skin tingled and my hairs stood up straight on my arms. My breaths came fast and ragged as I watched the message come through from whoever sent it from the parchment’s twin.
Someone else is asking questions now. A man at Sigilante last week.
The writing paused, and I wracked my brain to remember that Sigilante was a tavern. A witch’s tavern warded against mortals.
Yet another professor from your Academy, I am led to believe.
I gasped. Elias! How did they found out he was asking about my dad? Fuck! Why had I asked him to go digging? Idiot!
Find out who he is. This is your mess, Atticus. Clean it up. We can’t afford any loose ends. He knows something. Either dispose of him, or I’ll have no choice but to resort to my own methods of dealing with this situation.
Dispose of him? I bit my clenched fist to keep from whimpering. From screaming. My chest ached and my stomach heaved. I swallowed back the bile that tried to creep up my throat.
I had to get back to the academy. Now. I had to warn Elias. He had to run. To get as far away from the council’s reach as he could. Would I ever see him again? The thought made me clutch my chest. My magic rioted in my core.
This is all a bad dream. They couldn’t kill Elias, could they? They’d never get away with it. What was so important that they’d kill someone just for asking questions about it?
Glancing back down at the desk, I noticed a half-drunken glass of amber liquid. And a cigar in an ashtray—only partially smoked.
The floor outside the door to the room creaked. I froze.
The handle turned and I shuddered. A hundred neurons fired in my brain all at once and I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do. Run? Hide? My magic crashed against the shores of my skin. Waiting for me to unleash it.
A heartbeat before the door opened, I broke free from the shell of terror rooting me to the spot. I swiped through my light sigil and plunged the room back into darkness. Then, as the door began to yawn open, I snatched the parchment from the top of the desk and threw a ward over myself, thick as a down duvet. Strong as iron.
I willed the ward to stay with me. To move as I did. I’d never had to form a moving ward before and sweat broke out over my brow with the concentration I needed to keep it in place.
The lights flicked on, blinding me, and I clamped my mouth tightly shut and slapped my free hand over it to stop the sounds of my shaking breaths.
Sterling stared straight at me, and I clenched the parchment in my fist tighter, the paper making a crumpling sound that was the loudest thing I thought I’d ever heard.
And then he looked away, sighing. Removing his outer coat to hang it on a rack beside the door.
It’d worked! My ward held. He couldn’t see me. I focused harder, maintaining the steady flow of energy I allowed to leak out from my pores to keep it nice and strong. I had to get out of there... If he paid any closer attention, he could sense my presence, and if I made any sudden movements, he could catch sight of my ward.
I removed my hand from my mouth and licked my lips. The parchment in my grasp felt like a red-hot poker. Burning into my skin. What would he do when he noticed it was gone?
I mirrored his movements, trying to make my way to the door. For each step he took toward his desk, I took one more toward the door, holding to my ward for dear life. My heart beat wildly, painfully. Beating at the bones of my ribcage like a wrecking ball against brick.
He stepped. I stepped. He moved to the right. I moved to the left.
My ward started to waver, and I panicked, stumbling over the coffee table in the sitting area as I tried to move backward through the room. I went down hard against the oriental rug, dragging what remained of the ward down with me.
I flipped over quick as a cat, spinning to face him on all fours. He cocked his head at the space right above where I crouched low between the oversized armchairs. Then he raised his thick dark brows and fell into the chair at his desk.
He was going to notice. He would see the parchment was missing and I would be done for. I scrambled to the door, cursing under my breath.
Now, what, Harper? He’d closed the door behind him, and I couldn’t very well open it. He’d definitely notice that. And my ward would break down any second. I couldn’t hold it much longer. It didn’t matter how strong my magic was if I didn’t have the skill to hold it in place.
Sterling lit his cigar, and a cloud of white-gray smoke puffed around his face. My whole body was covered in icy cold sweat, and the nausea was starting to come back. I was going to have to open the door. It was the only option.
“Pierre!” Sterling shouted suddenly, and I clamped my hands back over my mouth, inching back away from the door.
Eight seconds later, the door opened, and Pierre stepped into the room.
“Go check on the girls,” he said, and I didn’t dare move. If I did, he’d see the shimmer of my ward, I was certain of it.
I watched him like a hawk, waiting for him to look away. For them both to look away, only for a second. I just needed one damned second. Please.
Please.
“They’re asleep. Have been for a while,” Pierre responded.
Sterling looked at him as though he was the daftest person he’d ever beheld. “Go check on them,” he ordered his hired man in an annoyed tone, waving his cigar through the air as though it were a marshaling wand and he was directing a plane. “My niece’s room is that way. Go!” he added when Pierre didn’t make a move.
And then Sterling looked back down at his desk, and Pierre turned away.
I bolted out the door, nearly tripping in my haste to make it down the hall, praying neither of the men could hear my thunderous footfalls
through the walls of my weakened ward. I slid into Bianca’s room and sealed the door behind me, running for the bed.
I released the ward, tucked the parchment beneath my pillow, and crawled under the covers. Sealed my eyes shut.
The door clicked back open and Pierre stepped inside. The door closed again a minute later, once he was satisfied at having seen us both fast asleep. I waited with bated breath until I heard his footfalls descend the stairs, and the soles of his shiny shoes hit the marble tile.
I whirled on Bianca, shaking her shoulders. Her mouth closed, and she squeezed her eyes closed, moaning.
“What?” she whined, trying to turn away from me. “Go back to sleep, dude. I was having such a good dream.”
“Wake up,” I said, and something in my tone must’ve gotten her attention because she slowly rolled back toward me and peeled her eyes open. The only light in the room was from a softly glowing orb hovering above her bedside table. She reached out and touched it, making it glow brighter with the addition of her magic.
When she saw my face, all traces of sleepy, whiny Bianca vanished. She sat up, looking around the room as though there might be monsters crawling on the floor or up her walls. “What is it? Has something happened?”
I didn’t know what to say. Sorry, but your uncle is the Magistrate’s murderous henchman, and he’s after a teacher I may or may not be in love with? Dammit all to hell! She would think I was insane.
“I need you to portal me back to the academy,” I said in a rush, never breaking eye contact with her. “Now.”
She kicked the covers from her legs and stood, pulling her housecoat back on. Her wavy blonde hair stuck up at all angles and her mascara was smudged. “What’s happened? You’re freaking me the fuck out, Harper.”
I had to give her something. “There’s someone in danger at the academy,” I blurted. “I—I can’t say anything else yet. Just please, please portal me back.”
I’d have done it myself if I was confident I remembered the sigil, but even if I did remember it, I didn’t know the portal spots in the house. I knew there was one somewhere around the front door, but we’d never make it down there without being heard or caught.
“You have to tell me what’s going on!” she nearly shouted.
“Shhhhhh,” I said, ready to leap on her to keep her quiet if I had to.
“If someone is in danger at the academy, I have to tell my uncle. He can help us.”
“No, he can’t!” I said, my throat feeling as though it was about to close up. The anxiety mounting to something I soon wouldn’t be able to control. “He is the danger.”
Her mouth fell open, and she staggered a step back as though I’d struck her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I reached under my pillow and yanked the parchment out, stomping the few steps until I was right in front of her. I thrusted it into her stomach, and she fumbled to grab it. “What is th—”
“Read it,” I said, and fifty pounds of fury fell from my body, replaced with something much more ugly. Bianca wouldn’t be able to unsee what she read. I’d explain it all to her. What they were talking about, and what it meant, but first she needed to do as I asked and get me out of here.
Her lips pursed and she glanced from the parchment, and back up to me. She shoved it back into my hands. “There’s nothing on here.”
She was right. The words had vanished. No! Sterling must’ve realized it’d been taken... which meant he’d have the real message by now and could already be on his way to the academy.
My eyes brimmed with tears. “If you won’t help me then at least show me the sigil. I have to get back,” my voice broke near the end, and I saw her resolve waver. “Please, Bianca.”
She shook her head, exasperated, angry, and probably confused. I felt awful for putting her in this position. But I didn’t have a choice. I hoped one day she’d see that, even if I didn’t get the chance to explain it all. I had to believe she wasn’t in danger. He wouldn’t go so far as to hurt his own niece, would he? Maybe it was better if she didn’t know.
If she never found out.
She could go back to having our room to herself. Back to being blissfully unaware of the world outside her warded dwellings. It was only a matter of time until Sterling figured out I was the one who intercepted his message. If he hadn’t already.
I couldn’t stay at the academy anymore either.
My chest ached and an image of Cal and Adrian flashed behind my eyelids. What would I tell them?
Bianca bit her bottom lip and groaned, lowering her brows. Her balled hands trembled at her sides. “Alright, fine. Come with me.”
19
When I’d refused to portal out the way we’d come in and told her we couldn’t be seen, Bianca had grumbled, but relented. Then she’d led me into her closet and parted a rack of clothing near the back.
She told me her uncle would kill her if he found out she’d managed to tear a hole in the ward just to duck into and out of her closet.
I wanted to tell her she could be right, but I kept my mouth shut instead.
We stepped through and into the portaling room of the academy. The same space they used for making calls during the school week. It was dark and quiet. And I realized it would be a few hours later in West Virginia. We’d left Oregon around eleven in the evening, so, here it had to be closer to two o’clock in the morning.
Everyone would be asleep. Good. There was only one person I’d have to wake up.
“Thank you,” I said to Bianca, as she closed the portal behind us. “You should go back before they notice you’re gone.”
She crossed her arms over her fluffy white housecoat and stared me down. “No, I’m staying,” she replied stubbornly. “If you would tell me what’s going on I might be able to help you, you know.”
I gave her an impish smirk. “Not with this, you can’t. Just stay inside. And when I come back in, I’ll explain everything.”
“You’re going outside right now? Does this have something to do with your familiars? Is someone trying to hurt them?”
I had already started to back away; afraid Sterling would show up here any second—that he could already be here. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I muttered, ignoring her questions, and then turned and sprinted from the room.
Guilt pressed down on me. The pressure near bone-cracking. She deserved better than a friend who lied to her. Than an uncle who was a murderer.
I took the stairs two at a time, realizing I was barefoot a second before my feet connected with the earth. A sharp rock dug into my heel, but I kept moving, grunting through the throbbing ache.
I looked back at the academy as I went, checking for light or movement. I saw nothing.
The words I’d seen on the parchment drove me to go faster. The black ink scrawl branded into my subconscious. We can’t have any loose ends... dispose of him...
With any luck, Sterling didn’t yet know who the man in the tavern was. There were at least twelve other male professors at the academy. It could just as easily have been them, right? I had no reason to think he’d automatically suspect Elias.
But that wasn’t right. I could feel it all the way down to the marrow in my bones. He was in danger. My blood surged with anticipation. My magic was already flaring up in defense.
Trust your gut, Leo had always told me. It’s the only thing you can trust in this messed up world.
I never knew just how right he was.
It was instinct driving me, and I heeded its warning. Rose to it’s primal cries. Almost there now.
I spotted his cabin through the trees. There was a subdued glow against the window pane. And smoke still rose from the chimney, though it was thin and gray. I didn’t bother trying to be quiet as I sprinted up the front steps and banged on the door.
I tried the handle, but it was locked. “Elias!” I called through the wood. “Elias, are you in there?”
Listening closely, I heard a rustling sound, and then the relievi
ng sound of footsteps coming toward the door. He released the lock and the door opened. I pushed my way inside, and shut the door behind me, peering out into the dark to make sure I wasn’t followed.
I threw the bolt back into place and let loose a long breath that came out sounding more like a tempered sigh. I made it. I rested my head against the rough grain of the wood, taking a couple deep, calming breaths before I turned to face him.
When Elias still didn’t say anything, I turned around, perplexed by his silence. “We need to talk,” I said, and then I looked up and my heart stopped. Everything stopped.
And then my heart beat once, hard. And then again, harder. My magic raced to fill my blood, the buzzing warmth radiated through my entire body.
“Yes,” said Headmaster Sterling, holding Elias in place with one hand, while an orb of glowing amber light flickered and pulsed in his other. The sigil at the heart of the orb glowed bright and strong. It was a complex symbol, and something about it made my stomach drop. It was all hard angles. Sharp lines and curving edges. “We should talk.”
It was an attack spell, but I had no idea which one. We wouldn’t learn those until after we turned eighteen... but judging by the way he held it toward Elias, and the way Elias gritted his teeth and tried to move away, I knew it was one that would kill him.
“Please,” continued Sterling in his deep, monotone drawl. “Won’t you have a seat?”
Elias struggled in Sterling’s grasp, his stormy blue eyes gleaming with so much anguish it broke my heart. “Harper, get out! Run!”
Sterling’s expression soured and he pushed the orb of light closer to Elias, who shied away, breathing rapidly through clenched teeth.
I didn’t dare move.
I wouldn’t leave him. An image of the sigil I would need to block an attack came into my mind. But Sterling was an experienced witch, he wouldn’t need to draw sigils anymore. He would be able to conjure them simply by thought. I likely wouldn’t have enough time to block if he decided to attack me.
My magic started to nip at my flesh, but I held it back. Let it build. This time, I wanted it to get out of control. To cause an earthquake, or a storm, or a damned tornado. It might’ve been the only way we would get out of this alive.