Wilde Intent

by K M Charron

After about five minutes, a repulsive stench punctuated the air. Something was rotting, although she didn’t recognize what. It smelled like meat forgotten in the trunk of a car overnight in the peak of summer. Her stomach turned again, but luckily, there was nothing left inside to throw up.

  She scrutinized the ground, seeing only ferns, stumps, and fallen branches. Against her better judgment, she inhaled deeply to get a sense of which direction it was coming from—to her right. She trekked through the undergrowth. As her foot came down, she saw something small sticking half out of a bed of ivy directly in front of her. She screamed, jumping back.

  It was a dead rat, but not just any dead rat. Its skin was peeled halfway off the skeleton, stopping around the creature’s ribcage. Most of its organs were missing, with only bits of tissue left beneath its bones. Its eyes were also gone, only two perfectly cleaned out sockets were left behind. Its little face had traces of blood mixed in with the sparse bits of grayish-white fur that remained.

  The sound of heavy breathing and footsteps startled her.

  Ainsley, panting, soon stood next to her. “I heard you scream. Oh my God! What’s that smell?” Her face twisted, and she brought her forearm up over her nose.

  Sydney motioned to the rat at her feet.

  Ainsley lowered her arm to speak. “Ew, that’s disgusting.” She bent to get a closer look. “It’s weird the way the skin’s pulled back.” Shaking her head, Ainsley stood back. “It’s gross, but screaming like that’s a bit dramatic. I thought you found a dead body.”

  “Tell me that when you nearly step on it. It caught me by surprise, okay?” she replied with a biting tone. Syd continued to scan the area. “This smell can’t be just from him. He’s so small. There’s got to be something else, look around.”

  “You’re not very good at the concept of asking, are you? And a please now and then wouldn’t kill you, either.” Ainsley checked around her feet first and then moved outward, walking in the opposite direction.

  Sydney tried to focus on the odor in the air to lead her.

  Ainsley stood, staring blankly down at something obscured by ferns. “I’ve got something.”

  Bracing herself, Sydney made her way over, not knowing what to expect. She found three dead crows lined up in a row; they were lying on their backs, their insides ripped out. Their chests were open cavities, all the organs missing. A dusting of black feathers and the small hollow bones of the birds were all that was left behind. Hundreds of ants crawled over them in all directions. Grief filled Sydney’s chest, and she dropped to her knees in front of them. A thick lump formed in the middle of her throat.

  Ainsley moved to Sydney’s left. “Who would do this? It’s sick.”

  Sydney quickly wiped a tear away. Ainsley was a middling; she wouldn’t understand. Crows were sacred to witches and often served as messengers and familiars—animal guides that possessed supernatural abilities. They were able to tap into their master’s needs, helping with certain tasks. The Wildes used crows to send messages outside the Nest since her mother was terrified that more modern means would be intercepted and expose them. Sometimes crows were utilized as spies. A skilled witch often trained a crow or raven to fly to the intended target and keep watch. When they flew back, the witch would gently hold the bird’s head, and whatever the bird witnessed would show inside the witch’s mind.

  “Uh, are you okay?”

  Sydney stood in one quick motion. “Whoever is responsible for this is vile!” Finding her resolve, she brushed away the rainbow of gold, orange, and red leaves clinging to her clothes.

  The feeling of Ainsley’s gaze made her clench her teeth harder. She needed to diffuse the situation. “Some psycho-in-training is running around killing animals,” she said, hoping to throw Ainsley off, but she knew there was far more to it than that. This looked sacrificial.

  Sydney instituted the mask she used with her mother—the one that said she was as solid and stable as a rock, and nothing could get to her. “Let’s go. Keep your eye out for any other corpses.”

  Ainsley nodded solemnly without a sarcastic retort. Carefully, she asked, “Do you think these could be related to the underground cavern? I mean, we find it, and there are bones inside and cryptic symbols carved everywhere about curses and binding. And now there are dead animals. I know I haven’t grown up around here like you, but you can’t tell me this is Ashcroft normal.”

  Sydney feared that Ainsley would break down and tell someone. “Would you relax? You spazzing out isn't going to help anything.” Facing Ainsley, she met her searching stare. “There’s no connection. These woods are huge. I’m sure there are lots of dead animals in them. It’s the cycle of life.”

  Ainsley bent to inspect the crows and grew even paler. “You’re the one who said psycho. This isn’t just a part of the life cycle. The skin was peeled back on that rat, and these crows are gutted. These aren’t natural animal deaths, and you know it.”

  Sydney flushed and broke eye contact, focusing on the swaying canopy of golds and reds above their heads as she thought. Ainsley was right, and they both knew it. There was more to this. It wasn’t normal—not by a long shot. She remembered what Oswald said about possibly letting something out when they’d broken the binding.

  “Just don’t say or do anything. I’ll look into it.” Sydney crossed her arms, feeling the beating of her heart against her forearms. “Please,” she added for good measure.

  “Not without me.”

  Sydney’s skin grew hot with panic. “What are you talking about?”

  Ainsley mirrored her, crossing her arms, her brows furrowed above narrowed blue eyes. “Whether we like it or not, and personally I hate it, we’re in this together. We’re all we have.”

  Sydney couldn’t allow Ainsley to stay involved. She’d have to find a way to keep this confusing middling quiet and away from things, a way that didn’t include magic.

  Chapter 5

  Ainsley

  Ainsley let Sydney pout and storm off. For someone so generally heartless, Sydney Lockwood sure seemed devastated by three dead crows. Of course, it was sad to see them like that—and nasty, but Syd’s reaction had been so unexpected, and a bit too intense.

  It was dusk by the time Ainsley cleared the edge of the forest and was back on Ashcroft campus. She checked her phone, 6:11 p.m. She’d missed a few texts from Harper about meeting for dinner and asking where she was. There was also a message from Helen about a Lit assignment—as if she could concentrate on anything academic now. She wanted answers about what was happening. She felt more vulnerable than ever.

  Her phone buzzed in her hand. She expected to see another text from Harper, but it was from Darren. They had exchanged numbers, but she hadn’t expected him to contact her first. He asked if she had any updates and said he’d been in touch with friends that were with Daphne at the festival. He didn’t unearth any new information.

  Unearth. What a fitting word. If only he knew what she’d been doing the last few days. She texted back. Nothing yet, but I’ll keep you posted.

  There was no way she could involve him in this, at least not yet. She had to figure out so many things before she dragged him into anything that could cause him more heartbreak. Heartbreak if the bones were Daphne's and heartbreak if they weren’t because that meant she was still out there somewhere, lost.

  Ainsley didn’t believe her dad had ever found the underground cavern. He would’ve searched the girls’ last locations, considered cabins or abandoned buildings where someone could have held them, calculated escape routes on lesser-used roads, etc. But someone built that cavern in the middle of a forest, completely hidden from the trail. Even if he had checked the woods, he wouldn’t have seen it through the camouflage.

  Ainsley needed to find out which girl’s bodies had been found and where and who was still missing. That would give her an idea of whose bones might be inside the room. The more she thought about how old the skeleton looked, the more she didn’t believe they belonged to Daphne.


  Pulling out her phone, she typed: How long until a body completely decomposes in a dry cavern? It was oddly specific, but Google didn’t disappoint.

  An unembalmed adult buried six feet down in regular soil will take approximately eight to twelve years to decompose, leaving only a skeleton behind.

  Eight to twelve years. She knew that there were mitigating factors, like weather, moisture, and bugs, but this skeleton couldn’t be Daphne. Who else had gone missing, and when?

  Her brain swam with the thought of her dad’s files. She swallowed a groan. She’d been waiting for this—a real lead, but she’d be more grateful if she weren’t so tired and hungry. Balancing her schoolwork, the investigation, and her minuscule social life—which mostly consisted of studying with Helen and hanging out with Harper—and avoiding the Ashcroft bitches had gotten to be too much.

  Ainsley looked at her phone with a pang of guilt in her chest. She hadn’t exactly been a good daughter either. Clearing her browser, she sent a quick text to her mom to say she loved and missed her. There, at least she resolved something.

  Ainsley headed over to the cafeteria in the main academic building, hoping Harper hadn’t left yet.

  She noticed a stronger chill in the air than usual. Without her uniform’s wool sweater, she trekked along quicker, hoping some movement would dull the shiver-inducing cold.

  Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out, expecting to see Harper’s name on the screen. Her breath caught in her chest, and an ache squeezed her heart when she saw her mom’s face.

  She inhaled and pressed answer. “Hi, Mom. How are you?” She entered the main doorway, but it was too noisy with the clamor from all the students inside.

  “I’m good, honey. It was so nice to get your text, but I decided it would be better to hear your voice. How are you doing?” Her mom sounded good, but without seeing her face, it was difficult to tell.

  Ainsley went out the opposite doors, heading to the fountain in the center of the campus courtyard, looking for a quieter spot. She sat on the fountain’s edge as her mom went on about the weather in Augusta and how she had run into Katy’s mom at the grocery store.

  “She said you haven’t talked to Katy much lately, is that true?”

  It wasn’t that she had stopped talking to Katy. They’d mutually stopped talking to each other, but she couldn’t say that. “We’ve both been busy. I’ll text her this week.”

  Ainsley peered over the edge of the fountain. The water was dirty, filled with leaves and twigs. Instead of sparkling blue, it was black and murky. It surprised her that such an expensive and perfectly maintained place would let this prominent feature go to shit.

  “I saw Grandma yesterday. She sends her love. How are classes going?”

  Ainsley did her best to keep her voice steady as images of ants crawling over the crows’ beaks flashed through her mind. “Uh, yeah, good. Harper helps me when I need it. She’s so ridiculously smart. It’s not fair,” she chuckled, hoping to keep her mom from hearing the strain in her voice. She pressed her cell close to her ear to drown out a small group of guys sitting nearby.

  “What’s Harper going to study at college again? I know it’s science-related.”

  But Ainsley’s focus split off as she watched the water. Its dark surface remained as still as glass. There were no ripples, despite the wind and rough-housing on its edge. “She, uh, wants to be a theoretical physicist.”

  “That’s right. Haha, when I was her age, I could barely think about what I wanted to eat for dinner. She’s a special girl. I liked her the moment I met her.”

  “She’s pretty great. I’m just about to meet her for dinner, actually. Can we talk again soon?”

  “Anytime, honey.” Her mom’s tone shifted from light to reserved, making Ainsley’s stomach sink.

  “Have a good night.” She pressed the end button but remained seated. It always took her a few minutes to shake the gloom from their talks. It hung there between them, living under the surface of an otherwise normal relationship—the unspoken blame and guilt.

  Shaking her head to clear the general iciness, she stood.

  One of the guys screamed, and then she heard a splash. She glanced up just in time to see his head and shoulders vanished under the filthy water and cringed to think of it invading his eyes and mouth. The others were laughing hysterically.

  So immature.

  Ainsley waited for the boy to re-surface. Instead, the water settled back into glassy stillness as if nothing had disturbed it in the first place. She titled her head in befuddlement and took a step closer. Looking down into the water, she realized she couldn’t see any part of him. But that was impossible! It was a garden decoration for crying out loud. It couldn’t have been more than three feet deep.

  Ainsley’s heart sped up, anxiety swimming through her veins. She didn’t know if she should jump in, try to scoop around for him with her hands, or scream for help. How long had he been under?

  She looked around frantically and screamed to his friends, “Aren’t you going to do anything? He’s going to drown!” How long could the average person hold their breath?

  The four boys stopped goofing off and gawked at her. One with slicked-back, black hair rolled his eyes. “Relax. It’s two feet of water. All he has to do is stand up.”

  But another turned his attention to the fountain. “He hasn’t come up yet?” Bending over to look, he brushed some blond hair away from his glasses. She recognized him then—Jax, a friend of Sydney and Justin, and the guy Harper was infatuated with.

  “No! He’s still down there. What if he hit his head?”

  Ainsley ripped off her blazer and was about to plunge her arm into the muck when she saw that the dirty water was now crystal clear and a shimmering blue. She could see to the bottom; there was no one inside the fountain.

  “He’s gone!” Her head spun, legs weakening beneath her. She fished frantically through the water with both arms, although there was no one to fish around for.

  Jax leaned over the edge of the fountain and held his hand over the water’s surface. He mouthed some words and closed his eyes in concentration.

  Ainsley took a few tentative steps back.

  Seconds later, there was a splashing sound, and the boy popped up next to her, arms flailing and choking for air.

  She exhaled with relief and hurried to help lift him out. He looked pale and frightened. His so-called friends stared slack-jawed, trying to catch up with events. The boy’s whole body shook, his dark hair plastered over his eyes.

  “What the hell just happened?” Ainsley demanded. “You fell in, but then you were gone. Just gone!”

  She glanced back at the surface of the fountain water and saw that it was once again sludgy black, filled with leaves and twigs, and as still as glass. There was no sign that it had ever been disturbed. Something was very wrong. She knew what she’d just witnessed, but it wasn’t possible.

  The guy leaned over and sucked in a few jagged breaths. Sheets of water slid down his sopping face and clothes, pooling at his feet.

  “He’s fine,” Jax said calmly, shielding him from Ainsley.

  Ainsley’s body trembled, but she found her voice. “Are you kidding me? He was under for a long time. He disappeared!” She looked around Jax to the boy. His gaping mouth and blank stare showed he was too distraught to speak.

  Jax gathered his friends together and called out to Ainsley. “Would you mind coming here, just for a minute?”

  What did he want? Her eyes slid into slits.

  “Please? It’ll only take a minute,” he begged.

  Reluctantly, she edged closer to him. Placing a hand on her upper arm, he gently shooed her closer to the group of boys.

  Jax faced them, squared his shoulders, and quickly lifted his hands out in front of them. His gray eyes intensified, and he spoke quickly, “Obliviscatur te vidimus. Novis factum est nihil. Et relinquam ex memoria mea, non hic vel fons.”

  Ainsley couldn’t believe what she was hearing. I
t sounded the same as what Sydney had said just a few hours ago. Her body froze, but her mind raced. She tried to back away, but her legs were leaden, and she nearly stumbled.

  He seemed to scrutinize her, the fine creases on his forehead deepening, but then he turned his attention to his friends. “Kai fell in the fountain but got out, completely soaked. It was hilarious.”

  The group of guys burst into laughter.

  What?!

  Ainsley stepped in front of the guy—Kai—who had almost drowned, noting that he looked completely at ease. “That’s not what happened,” she insisted. “Tell them the truth!” She gripped the dripping boy by the shoulders and stared straight into his face.

  He seemed to snap out of whatever daze he’d been in. Swiping a clump of black hair off his forehead, he said, “I fell into the fountain, and it was hilarious.”

  Ainsley quickly replayed the events in her head. Kai had been under for several minutes, the water had cleared, the bottom had been empty. He had disappeared. She shook her head, refusing to accept this. It was like she’d slipped into a parallel dimension.

  Her fists clenched at her sides. “What are you talking about? I saw you go under, and then you were gone. The water changed. The bottom was empty.” Her voice grew progressively louder.

  Jax’s eyes widened, his mouth forming an ‘o’—but not because his friend was miraculously still alive. He was staring in shock at her. Stepping closer to her—closer than she liked—he repeated the odd phrase in the archaic language.

  “Why do you keep saying that? I don’t understand. Can you say it in English?” She was running out of patience. The memory of Sydney looped in her mind.

  Jax continued to gape at her, coming near until her until their faces were a foot apart.

  “Ainsley, what do you remember from the last ten minutes?” His mouth puckered, and his jaw clenched. He looked so intense that it caused her adrenaline to kick up a notch.

  She repeated herself, knowing she sounded delusional, rambling, and incoherent.