Wilde Intent

by K M Charron

  The girls still had a few hours before her mother would be in. Sydney, Ava, and Khourtney were sorting through old, dusty books for anything about shapeshifters, supernatural mists, fogs, or animal sacrifices in the Nest’s library. They assumed the dead animals were food, but they could also be sacrificial. What they didn’t know could fill a thousand books.

  They sat scattered throughout the library, each at the base of a different bookcase. Sydney was cross-legged in front of the Black magic section with a tower of books twenty tomes high next to her—all useless.

  “If your mother comes in and sees this,” Ava said casually, “we’re dead. Even I won’t be able to talk her down, and she adores me."

  Syd swallowed hard. Her mother hated mess or disorganization to any degree, not to mention she’d demand to see what they’d been looking at and why.

  Andrea Lockwood coordinated her bath towels according to size, color, and fluffiness. She lined up the pens on her desk by ink color, ballpoint size, and frequency of use. Her coming in here and finding the room in such disarray was a death wish.

  “Hopefully, we’ll have this all cleaned up in time, and she’ll never know. If we are that unfortunate, say we’re studying for testing.” She prayed it would work.

  “I’ve got something,” Khourtney announced, a tinge of excitement to her voice.

  Syd shared the sentiment since they’d been searching for two hours already, and she had nothing but paper cuts to show for it. She glanced from Ava to Khourt and was momentarily grateful that Justin had involved them after all.

  “It says here that some supernatural beings can’t be killed, only contained, and that their form might alter depending on the trauma the being has endured.” Khourtney scooted across the floor to show Ava and Sydney. “Isn’t this close to what you said? Whatever form it took before it was locked in the room was bound inside with it. Without a physical means of survival, it might have desiccated—dried out, evaporated.”

  “That would explain the bones on the ground,” Sydney agreed. “When the form it was living in died, the entity’s energy had nowhere to go, so it remained locked inside as that fog.” Sydney put her hand to her head. Everything was finally clicking into place. “The animals were food. It was, or is, trying to regain strength to take on a physical form.” The idea that it was already strong enough that it could disguise itself as their classmates—at least temporarily—made her breath hitch.

  “As for our little middling, do you really trust her to keep her mouth shut?” Ava asked.

  Sydney needed to protect her ass. “As far as I know, she didn’t breathe a word of the hidden cavern in the woods to anyone. If she can keep that secret, I hope she has the good sense to keep her mouth shut about this, about us. Besides, like she said, who would believe her?”

  It struck her again—she still didn’t know why Ainsley had wanted to keep the cavern and its symbols a secret, or why she'd been so interested in the first place. Was it connected to the fact that she was nearly immune to magic? Ainsley had gone back there, same as Sydney, looking for something. Her instincts told her it was more than mere curiosity.

  Reaching for her phone, she began taking photos of the pages. She swore that her mother had a sixth sense so strong that she’d know if a book was missing in a bookcase of a thousand volumes.

  “This doesn’t, specifically, say anything about a shapeshifter turning into a mist,” Khourt said.

  “No, it doesn’t, but it’s the closest lead we have.” Until I can find Oswald.

  The doorknob rattled, making Sydney stiffen in terror. Her stomach knotted in anticipation of her mother’s outraged face. “Oh my God.”

  Ava and Khourtney exchanged panicked expressions, and the three of them began frantically shoving books back onto shelves. The doorknob rattled again.

  Sydney braced herself, her mind whirling for any plausible excuse. The door opened, and she nearly collapsed when she saw Jax and Langston pop inside. “Shit. You almost gave me a heart attack!”

  “Easy,” Langston laughed, putting his hands out and motioning her to calm down.

  “You’re pretty high strung for this early in the morning,” Jax said before plopping down next to Sydney, who had collapsed onto the floor.

  Khourt rolled her eyes. “It’s after eleven.”

  “Yeah, early,” Jax retorted. “But we’re here now, so how can we help?” He leaned back on his hands, looking positively tranquil.

  Syd threw her notebook at him. “How can you be so calm? What’s wrong with you?”

  He tried to deflect it but was too slow, and it hit him square in the chest. “Are you going to let your girlfriend abuse me like that?” he said to Langston.

  Langston smiled and said, “Next time, I’ll hold you down.”

  Sydney blew him a kiss, relieved that the two of them seemed back to normal. “We found a few promising things, but we’re miles away from figuring out what this thing wants, what it’s capable of, or where it is now.”

  “Like how it steals people’s faces and how long it wears them,” Langston said. He had the good sense to look concerned. “It’s obviously got some agenda. I know I’d be pissed if I was bound in a room for God knows how long.”

  Sydney pulled out her phone. “Exactly. I made a list of things we need to figure out, namely who locked it away, why, and how long ago? If we can figure those things out, we have a chance at figuring out our next moves.”

  Jax flipped mindlessly through one of the leather-bound books about supernatural creatures linked to mythology. “Why are we afraid of this thing? I mean, it hasn’t gone after any witches, and it’s been free for weeks. How do you know that it killed Darren?”

  Pure and utter dread shot back into Sydney as she thought about the way the second Max had stood and stared blankly into that crowd of blissfully unaware teenagers. “You didn’t see it, Jax. Sure, it looked like Max, but . . . the eyes.” She shook her head. “They were unblinking and empty. Creepy is the only word to describe it. And why hang out at Ashcroft, switching form from Tiana to Max? It wants something, and my guess is that thing is revenge.”

  “But where do we even start?” Khourtney brushed her hair off her face, her mouth a pout.

  “There’s too much ground to cover. We’re going to need to split up before this thing decides to act and more than animals end up with their insides missing,” Ava said.

  Syd agreed and proceeded to delegate tasks for the rest of the day.

  Ava would visit Mirabeth at The Raven’s Eye to see what she knew about shifting entities. Langston and Jax were to search the Ashcroft grounds and surrounding forest for signs that the shifter was feeding again, and Khourtney would subtly find out if Tiana and Max had recently experienced anything out of the ordinary. They could be holding clues and not even know it.

  Sydney would pay Oswald another visit. Her witch instincts were strong, and she knew with every fiber of her being that he was holding something back.

  They cleaned up the library with magical speed and got out of there. The Nest was busier than expected, but maybe that’s how it usually was on a weekday.

  The best thing she could do was saunter around like normal, on the pretext that she wanted to study for that evening’s Elemental magic test. Truth be told, she should be studying since she was less than confident that she’d be able to conjure a cup of coffee the way Ava had, let alone rain or snow on command.

  Oswald, she knew, was somewhere in the Nest cleaning or fixing something. She needed an excuse to talk to him. The other witches would be suspicious, otherwise, since most ignored him unless they too needed something.

  Then she spotted Jasmine Singh and Jared Ware, two High magic Lords, chatting by the fireplace. Syd put on a charming smile and headed over. They stopped talking immediately, their smiles fading as they observed her.

  “Good morning, have you seen Oswald today?” She prayed they wouldn’t ask her why.

  “He was cleaning the west corridor about twenty
minutes ago,” Jasmine replied coolly. Her eyes traced Sydney from her boots to her hair. Syd only stood taller at this poor attempt at intimidation. Jasmine gave Jared a knowing look, before saying, “I heard you’re entertaining a middling nowadays. Does your mother know about your new friend?” she punctuated the word ‘friend’ as if it were dirty.

  An icy chill filled Sydney’s veins. She’d not expected word to have traveled to the Lords—the first rank after graduating from apprentice—yet. Someone must have seen them with Ainsley. She gritted her teeth. “I’m not sure what you’re insinuating. We all engage with middlings above ground. The school has over a thousand of them, so it reasons that I’d interact with them on occasion.”

  Jasmine grinned, her gold-flecked brown eyes narrowing as she peered down her pointy nose. “And what could you want with Oswald?” She gave Jared a decisive look. "Yet another middling.”

  “I’ve lost the pendant from my necklace if you must know, and I want to see if he’s swept it up. It’s special, from my mother.” She didn’t know where the lie came from, but she was grateful for it. Perhaps the ancestors were looking out for her. Take that, you nosy bitch.

  Tilting her head, Jasmine regarded her smugly. “If there’s nothing else.” She turned away from Sydney, dismissively.

  There were two unspoken groups in the Wildes, though no one would ever be so stupid as to acknowledge it out loud. Those who liked and willingly followed Andrea Lockwood, and those who feared her and were therefore strongly encouraged to follow Andrea Lockwood. No one went against the High Priestess, and by extension, her flesh and blood. Some witches resented it, thus the cold shoulders, but Syd used the judgment to her advantage. Fear garnered respect, and both were better than weakness.

  Sydney speed-walked to the west corridor. Oswald was slow-moving, so she hoped he was still there. She turned the corner and saw a few Lords and Elder going about business as usual, but no Oswald. She hurried past a dozen classroom doors, taking care to peek inside each one. They were all dark and empty until she reached the final room. A crack of light emanated in the darkness. Sydney gently pushed the door open the rest of the way and saw Oswald wiping down the chalkboards.

  Her stomach settled. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  His hand flailed away from the board, and she feared he would fall off the small step stool. When he regained his balance, he stepped down, resting a hand on his chest. “You have a talent for sneaking up on me, my dear. One of these days, it just might kill me.”

  “Sorry.” She gave him an apologetic smile, walked in, and closed the door behind her. “There've been some new developments in my situation. I'd like your help since you’re the only coven historian who can shed light on what I think I’m dealing with.” Better to keep it to ‘I’. There was no sense dragging her friends any deeper into this disaster.

  “While I’m flattered, I’m hardly the only historian here. Any of the Masters and many of the Elders are well versed in the coven’s history.”

  Meeting his pale, glassy eyes, she said, “But none of them are discreet.”

  He hunched farther forward, and a drawn-out sigh left his lips. “Why do I feel I might regret this? What do you need to know?”

  She wished she could Persuade him to forget about this and their previous conversations, but she might still need him. The risk that he’d go to her mother after what she had to say was real, but she had nowhere else to turn, and he hadn’t let her down yet. Better to do it fast, she decided, before she lost her nerve. “I believe the binding knot I told you about was keeping a shapeshifting entity locked away.”

  He scrubbed his face with a handkerchief before ambling over to the closest desk chair and lowering his rickety body into it.

  She pushed on. “Have you heard of a humanoid shifter, one that changes into human form and not animal?” She held her breath.

  She blanched at Oswald’s calmness. He didn’t appear at all shocked by her admission. In fact, he looked like he’d been anticipating it. “You’re talking about the underground room in the forest.” He closed his eyes the way that someone does when they’ve just heard a loved one has died. “The door with the binding symbol etched into it… You opened it, didn’t you?”

  The chill in his voice produced a wave of shame and embarrassment in Sydney. How did he know? Keeping her head high and her voice steady, she admitted, “Yes. And I’m afraid the shifter that was trapped is now roaming the Ashcroft grounds.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I heard the legend when I was a boy, although I was never able to find the site myself.”

  The news came with as much impact as if a pickup truck had hit her. “You looked for it?” She reeled at his admission but steadied herself, grabbing onto the desk nearest her.

  He nodded, staring out the enchanted skylight into the nearby treetops that rustled in the fall wind. “No one thought it was real, and I had to agree when I found nothing after three summers of searching these woods. I believed it to be,” he paused, “a cautionary tale.”

  She pulled a chair up next to him, watching the mixture of astonishment and alarm cross every line of his face. She tuned into him to get a reading and was hit with nausea and paralyzing anxiety. Her heart pounded, and her stomach rolled. She pulled out of his emotions as quickly as she could, catching her breath. “Tell me, please. I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

  “Legend says that witches, ones that lived on these grounds far before your ancestors created the Wildes, came across an entity, although they didn’t know it at the time. A traveler had come into their village. He was alone, hungry, tired, and in need of shelter. The villagers took him in, gave him food, water, and a bed. Within days of his arrival, strange things began happening. Goats and chickens turned up dead, but not simply killed, but…”

  Sydney winced, the image of Simon, the ravens, and the rat spooling across the back of her eyes. “Eviscerated.”

  “How…?” He nodded, recognition in his eyes. “It’s happening again, isn’t it?” He appeared stricken, his hand resuming its place on his chest.

  She nodded. “What else, Oswald? I need to know everything. I need to know what we’re dealing with.” The anticipation made her hot and woozy.

  “Dead animals piled up over the next few weeks. The villagers wanted to believe that a pack of wolves was returning every few nights to feast. But among the villagers was a secret coven of witches, one of them a powerful witch named Saskia. She had the distinct sense that something was off with the new man. The others defended him, citing his helpfulness to the community, but Saskia could read the life-forces in people, and she claimed the man had no soul. She thought him a demon.”

  “One night, Saskia was meeting with a young gentleman in the woods when she heard a cry. She rushed to the edge of the trees and witnessed the man pull a knife out of another villager’s back, a man named Mathias. Saskia was about to scream for help, but her companion, afraid for their safety, clamped a hand over her mouth. The legend says the man’s appearance changed then and there. He morphed into Mathias. Saskia saw the man pull Mathias’ body away, disposing of it.”

  “Oh my God, what happened to Saskia?”

  “When she went to the villagers the next morning, to tell them what she had witnessed, they scoffed at her. Saskia had a reputation for being hysterical.”

  “Didn’t all women back then?” Sydney retorted. “Why didn’t the man she was with come forward? He saw it too.”

  “Because Saskia and her lover were both married to others. Their adultery would’ve gotten them both killed. Many of the villagers were in the town square when Saskia accused Mathias of being an imposter. The traveling man had left a note, you see, explaining away his absence. Everyone believed he’d simply left town, and that this was the real Mathias. Saskia looked like a rambling lunatic. She yelled and screamed about the murder, but—seeing Mathias standing right there—no one believed her sane. A few men held her back, thinking she was mad, but she broke free, striking Math
ias. As her fists struck the bare skin of his face, Mathias transformed into Saskia—in front of everyone. It hadn’t been the murder that caused the shifting. It was the skin-on-skin touch. The entity that had killed Mathias had planned to take his place in the town, unbeknownst to the villagers.”

  Chills rippled across Sydney’s flesh. That explained why there were two Tiana’s and Max’s. It didn’t need to kill anyone, only to touch their skin to shift into their likeness. But why?

  Oswald cleared his throat and continued. “After it shifted in front of the villagers, fear and panic erupted. Saskia approached it and placed a binding spell over it, although no one knew what she’d done, except her fellow witches.”

  “Do you know what the spell did?”

  “I’ve thought a lot about that, and I believe she trapped the entity in the false flesh it was occupying. She didn’t know it’s true form and didn’t want it to shift again into something they couldn’t control. The villagers grabbed it while it still looked like her and tried to kill it, but it wouldn’t die. They stabbed it, and it bled. They burned it and left marks on its flesh. They tried to drown it, yet it kept breathing. You can imagine the villagers’ fear at the sight. The body of Saskia screaming, writhing, and begging for mercy, yet it wasn’t her. It was then that the real Saskia revealed herself as a witch. She tried to subdue the shifter with her magic, but it wasn’t enough. Her coven came to her aid and together they were able to weaken the entity enough to tie it up and drag it to the underground room—one the coven had at the ready, for times they needed to contain anything dangerous.”