Freak.
Why? Why would they call me that? I...I haven’t done anything except have the unfortunate luck of being assigned the roommate of someone who ended up dead.
I thought that, coming here, I’d be around people just like me. The opposite of a freak. And yet, I’ve never felt so out of place. At home, I was just like everyone else. In fact, better than most people. I had a bad home life, but that’s normal, really. I mean, yeah, it sucked, but lots of people have messed-up families. I at least did well in school and had lots of friends. It was actually my home. This place...I don’t know what it is. What I’m even doing here.
I wipe the tears from my face and force myself to stand. I grip the handrail and pull myself up four flights of stairs.
When I get to my room, everything seems normal. No weird papers lying around. No ominous sensations or open windows. I make sure the door is locked and then sit on my bed.
“Hey,” I say, my voice low. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on or why you keep reaching out to me. But I think I’m the wrong person for the job. If you are Giselle, you had other friends. Maybe one of them could help you. If you aren’t Giselle...well, you need to leave me alone. I’d hate to have to, like, banish you or something.”
Nothing happens. I sigh, grateful I didn’t accidentally enrage the spirit that’s been haunting me.
I look at the stack of books on my desk and feel strain building in my shoulders at the idea of spending the night studying. Which I should have been doing last night instead of trying to decipher that stupid code.
Maybe I should just go home. I already talked myself out of leaving La Voisin once, but that was when I still had hope that things would get better. I had a purpose. Now...I don’t know. Will I ever really be able to control the weather? Save lives? Not at this rate. I can’t bring Beau back. I can’t change the past. I can’t...I can’t do anything.
I pick up the phone and call Julieta. It’s the middle of the day, and I don’t expect her to answer, but I need to talk to her. She’s always been my best friend and the person I talk things through with. I need to talk to her to keep from doing anything rash.
She picks up on the second ring. “Bueno? Madison?”
“Uhh… Hey.” I didn’t really expect her to answer, so I didn’t prepare what I wanted to say. “How’s it going? Why aren’t you in class?”
I hear her cover the phone as she says something to someone next to her. “It’s so weird that you called,” she says to me. “Mom and I just dropped your mother off at an in-patient treatment center.”
If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I would have plopped onto the bed in shock. “You did?”
“Yeah. She came by the house this morning, begging for help. I guess…” Her voice trails off, as if she isn’t sure how much to tell me.
“I can take it,” I say. “Things can’t be worse than I’ve already been through with her.”
“I don’t know,” Julieta says. “I guess it was bad enough to scare her straight. She didn’t say what happened, but...I don’t know. She begged my mom to help her. Mama was like, ‘Why can’t you drive yourself there?’ and she was like, ‘I don’t trust myself to do the right thing.’ I mean, at least she was being honest, but it was kind of scary.”
I nod even though she can’t see me, but I can’t talk. What happened? Had she been robbed? Beaten? Raped? I can’t believe I just left her.
“I...I’m coming home,” I say. “I shouldn’t have left her. This is—”
“Don’t you dare say this is your fault,” Julieta snaps. “You’ve been through some serious trauma. You have the right to take care of yourself. Your mom’s been doing drugs forever. You being here wouldn’t have changed that. If anything, you leaving might be the only thing pushing her to get help.”
I stand and pace the room. “But...will she? We’ve been through this before.”
“Well, I can’t promise anything,” Julieta says, “but she seemed different this time. Genuine. I have a feeling she’s going to really try this time.”
I hold the phone to my chest and look up at the ceiling to keep myself from crying. “Thank goddess,” I mutter. Finally. I put the phone back to my ear. “That’s great. I can’t thank you or your mom enough.”
“You don’t need to thank us,” she says. “That’s what family is for. The best way you can thank us is by staying there and getting the help you need.”
“Are...are you sure?” I ask with a gulp. They don’t even know where I really am.
“I’m sure,” Julieta says. “Your mom told us you were in a place with people who could help you better than she ever could.”
I have to scoff at that, considering three generations of Whittaker women before me would have cut off their right legs before going to La Voison. At least, that’s what they always claimed. They were mundanes. What did they know about being witches and having to actually make the choice to come here or not?
I’m being bitter, I suppose. I know things would be better—easier—if I had come here two years ago like I should have. I never should have tried to stay in Turkey Hollow and be...normal. It’s not who I am, and trying to be something I’m not only caused tragedy in my mundane life and more difficulties in my witch life.
“What?” Julieta asks.
“Nothing,” I say, “It’s just...weird how things work out. I thought no one could take care of Mama but me. But she has you.”
“Pfft,” Julieta says. “She’ll need you eventually. Just not right now. And hopefully not ever again for the things she needed you for in the past.”
“What’s the program?” I ask.
“It’s through the local hospital, but it’s a secure house just outside of town. She’s not allowed to have any outside contact for three months. So if you came back, you couldn’t see her anyway.”
“No contact at all?” I ask. “That seems extreme.”
“Too easy to make contact with dealers today; the center director explained to us. A single phone call to the wrong person could put a lot of people at risk.”
“Makes sense, I guess. Still…”
“I know,” Julieta says. “It’s hard, but you’re in a good place. Just distract yourself with your own support group and classes or whatever. Three months will fly by before you know it. You can come home as soon as summer shows up.”
“I’m already looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” Julieta says. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, mi amore!” Mrs. Hernandez yells, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I love your mom too,” I say.
“Okay, Mom’s dropping me at school now. Talk soon.”
“Later,” I say, and when I hang up the phone, I feel so much better, I can hardly explain it. I’m...happy. Hopeful. I know that—for at least the next three months—Mama will be okay.
But will I?
For the first time, I really can just focus on me and no one else. It’s kind of freeing. I could go back home. Go back to Turkey Hollow High. Get caught up on the semester. Live with Julieta or just in my own house. I’m seventeen. I could get emancipated.
Or I could stay here. Learn my craft. Grow my abilities. Learn to fly. Control the weather.
Help them.
I shudder as I feel a breath on the back of my neck. I turn, but no one is behind me.
“Who’s there?” I ask. No response. “I...I need to know that you really are Giselle and not a demon. Why should I help you? Who do you need me to help? Why are you contacting me?”
The ceiling light flickers, and a breeze fills the room. I look toward the window and see that it’s now open.
“Okay,” I say, grounding myself so I don’t run out screaming. “I know you’re there. Prove yourself to me. Why should I risk my life for you?”
The door to Giselle’s closet opens. When I see my reflection in the mirror, I can see Giselle standing behind me. I turn around—and she’s still there!
“I’m sorry
,” she says.
There’s a clap of thunder, and the room suddenly goes dark. When the light comes back on, the window and the door to the closet are closed, and Giselle’s ghost is gone. A combination of fear and relief wash over me, followed by a lingering sense of unease.
I can’t believe she came back from the grave just to apologize to me.
“I forgive you,” I say, and the whole room feels lighter, as if the sun just came out. “Okay. I believe you, Giselle. I’ll help you.”
I just hope it doesn’t get me killed next.
Chapter 19
“I’ve never been to Boston!” I say as Ivy scrys on a large oval mirror in her bedroom, revealing the New England Aquarium on the other side.
“Well, we won’t be seeing much of Boston itself,” Krista says. “We should, though. Maybe the next time we have a three-day weekend we can check it out.”
Ivy pokes her head through the mirror to make sure no one will see us on the other side, then she steps through. I follow her, along with Krista and Jaxon.
We are all together behind a building—bathrooms, it seems—so no one realizes we totally just broke into the aquarium park without paying.
I grab a map from a nearby kiosk. “What are we going to do first? They have a penguin exhibit, and you can even go behind the scenes and pet the penguins. That is so cool! Oh! Look, a giant octopus!”
“Forget it, Whittaker,” Krista says, taking my map, crumpling it, and dropping it on the ground. “We’re on a mission.”
“Litterbug,” Jaxon mumbles as he picks the map up and tosses it into a nearby recycle bin.
“A mission?” I slide my teeth across my bottom lip, realizing I totally misread the purpose of this little outing. “You never did tell me why we were coming here. Just that you had to show me something.”
“We came here for you,” Ivy says, leading the way past the seal exhibit where excited kids are tossing fish to the waiting pinnipeds. “I figured out how to get water gifted from a sea creature.”
We arrive at the dolphin enclosure, a huge tank with five or six dolphins swimming around. Like at the seal exhibit, there are families here tossing fish into the tank, which the dolphins are eagerly gobbling up. Some of the dolphins are getting very close to the humans, even letting the people touch them on their noses.
When we reach the kiosk where a park employee is selling the paper bowls of dead fish, I wrinkle my nose, but Ivy looks as though she is going to be absolutely ill.
“You take it,” she says to me.
“Should we all get one?” I ask as I take one from the vender and turn back to my friends. “Or...three of us? It’s not every day you get to feed a dolphin. Unless you’re a water witch, I guess.”
“This is all for you, Madison,” Jaxon says as the three of them walk to a part of the dolphin tank where there aren’t many people.
“What?” I ask, rushing to keep up with them but making sure I don’t drop my fish as I dart around excited kids.
Ivy, Krista, and Jaxon line up against the tank and motion for me to join them. There are people on either side of us, so I know we can’t talk freely or use our powers here. A dolphin swims past, and I see Ivy wiggle her nose and toss her hair over her shoulder. In the dolphin’s wake, a huge wave sloshes over the side of the tank wall, drenching the people standing around us, but leaving us not at all suspiciously dry. The people laugh and move off to find a safer place to stand.
“Nice,” I say, and Ivy shrugs like it’s no big deal. Then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a seashell.
“Here,” she says, opening the shell. It’s actually two seashells that are attached, like a clam or oyster shell. “Use the fish to lure a dolphin over. When you give it the fish, it should spit water at you in thanks. I’ll make sure the water falls into the shell. Be sure to close it tightly so the water doesn’t leak out.”
“Why don’t you just do it?” I ask. “You’re the water witch. This is your thing.”
“I don’t need to win,” Ivy said pointedly. “But you do.”
“I thought we were going to try to all win.”
“Don’t look a gift dolphin in the mouth,” Krista says. “Look, there’s one there looking right at you.”
I place the bowl on the edge of the tank and pick up one of the fish while making kissy noises at the dolphin. In my other hand, I have the clamshell ready to accept the water gift.
The dolphin comes up, but it doesn’t take the fish. Instead, it rears up, claps its fins, and makes little chattering noises.
“She recognizes us,” Ivy says.
“You know her?” I ask.
Ivy nods.
“Can you, like, talk to her?”
Another nod.
“Well, tell her we say hello, then!”
“Tell her yourself,” Ivy said. “She can understand you just fine. She can’t use human speak back, though.”
“Oh,” I say, turning toward the dolphin and trying not to feel like a total weirdo. “Well, nice to meet you...uhh...Miss Dolphin.”
The dolphin chitters as if she’s laughing at me, and I can’t help but laugh back.
“Well, here you go,” I say, offering her the fish. She opens her mouth and gobbles it down eagerly. Then she nudges the bowl holding the rest of the fish.
“Fine,” I say, picking them up one at a time and dropping them into her smiling mouth. “Can I pet you?” I ask when she’s done eating.
The dolphin nods and pulls up closer to us. We all take turns petting her. Then she dips under the water, deeper than we can reach.
“That was cool,” I say, then I realize I’m still holding the open, empty clamshell. “Oh no! I forgot about the water!”
“Look out!” Ivy calls as the dolphin suddenly pops back up in front of us and shoots water at us from her long mouth.
I practically fumble in response, but Ivy helps me hold up the clamshell, and I see some of the water unnaturally arch into the shell. Together, Ivy and I clamp the shell closed, sealing our precious gift of water inside.
The dolphin then does a backflip and swims to another side of the tank.
“Bye!” I say, waving like a goofy kid. “I can’t believe I just talked to a dolphin.” I can’t stop grinning. That was just too amazing.
“Well, to be fair, you can talk to all animals,” Krista says as we walk over to wash our hands. “You just never knew they could understand you.”
I tilt my head toward her. “Talking to animals was never in any of the family legends passed down from my grandmother.”
“Not everyone can,” Jaxon says. “It’s a skill you can develop if you want to, though. Even to the point where you can understand them talking back.”
“Who wouldn’t want to talk to animals? Sign me up.”
“We can’t do everything,” Krista says. “You might find something else you want to specialize in more than that. Most people do.”
Like control the weather. I suppose if I want to focus on becoming that strong, I might not have time to develop the ability to converse with animals.
“I guess you’re right,” I say. “I’ll have to think about it. Speaking of birds… Can we go see the penguins?”
“Sorry, but no,” Krista says. “Next stop is Scotland!”
After a trip to a shop that sold aquarium branded clothes, we slip through a mirror and arrive at what can only be described as every dream of Scotland I think everyone has ever had. The hills are a rolling green with a single dirt path leading to a thatched cottage with a tendril of smoke coming out of the chimney. There’s a little wooden fence around the cottage to keep in a couple of goats. A border collie yips at us from a cottage window.
“This...can’t be real,” I say as Krista takes the lead to the cottage, grabbing Ivy’s hand in her excitement.
“It’s nae just real,” Krista says, as though simply stepping onto the green earth of her homeland has brought her brogue to the fore. “It’s the birthplace of magic herself.”
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I shake my head as Jaxon and I follow Krista and Ivy to the cottage.
The cottage door opens, and a middle-aged woman steps out with a wave. “Krista, love!” she calls, and the border collie rushes out, leaps over the fence, and jumps up at Krista to lick her face. “I kent ye’d be coming tae call today.”
“How’d ye ken?” Krista asks, opening the gate for us all.
“The tea leaves this morn,” the woman says. “And who be yer friends?”
“All classmates,” Krista says. “You’ve met Ivy. And this is Jaxon and Madison. Everyone, this is my gran. You can call her Aunt Nellie.”
“A pleasure, fer sure,” Aunt Nellie says. “Come away ben.”
I have no idea what that means, or most of anything else she’s said so far, but I follow the others as Aunt Nellie opens the door and we pile inside.
The inside of the cottage is as idyllic as the outside. A warm fire. Dark, rough-hewn furniture. Herbs hanging from the ceiling to dry. A broom sweeping the floor.
“Wait,” I say. “Is that...?”
“I was in the middle of cleaning when ye arrived,” Aunt Nellie says.
We all take seats around a table with a pile of scones in the middle.
“I feel like I stepped into a fairy tale.”
“Ach, careful, love,” Aunt Nellie says, “lest the fairies think ye be calling ‘em and they show up tae cause naught but trouble.”
“Really?” I ask the others.
“Aye,” Krista says, and I do my best to stifle a snicker at her accent. Not because it’s funny in and of itself, but she just normally doesn’t speak that way. “I canne help it! Something in the air.”
“Krista was actually born in Scotland,” Ivy tells me. “Only moved to Canada when she was...what? Ten?”
“Aye,” Krista says.
Aunt Nellie brings over four cups, each with tea leaves already in them, and a piping hot teapot. “Cream and sugar, dears?”
She pours the water over our tea leaves, and we all add the sugar and cream the way we like it while Krista explains to Aunt Nellie about the contest to craft the Soul of Loss and how we are here to harness the eternal flame.
Curse of Stone (Academy of the Damned Book 1) Page 18