Ivy puts her hand to her mouth. “This...this is getting intense.”
“You’re telling me! I’ve been struggling with this for weeks. She’s been appearing with some regularity.” I pull out my phone and show them the picture of the foggy bathroom mirror. “She wrote this.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Ivy says after taking a long look at the picture on my phone. “If Giselle is speaking to you from beyond the grave… There’s just no guidance for this. No books. No one we can go to for help.”
“I know.” I tuck my phone away and take another glance around to ensure we’re still alone. “It’s been overwhelming. Not to mention just...my whole life. Classes. Catching up. Learning to be a witch.”
“About that…” Krista says. “What really brought you here?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I have a phone, too, you know,” she says. “And you didn’t change your name, apparently.” She holds up her own phone and shows me a news article about Beau’s death and my disappearance.
I drop my head, and tears flow. “I accidentally killed my boyfriend.”
“Goddess!” Ivy says, pulling me into a hug. “You poor thing!”
I wrap my arms around her, so grateful to say the words out loud—and not be rejected for them. I feel more arms around me as Krista and Jaxon join the hug.
When I’m finally able to speak again, everything comes out. “It was an accident. A horrible accident!” I tell them about Julieta, the tornado, the rebar...then, the hospital, arriving home, Mama. Until I wound up in the hedge and met Jaxon.
Ivy rubs my back. “I can’t believe you have been carrying this all by yourself for so long.”
I wipe the tears from my face. “It’s been rough.”
“Well, this is a whole new world to you,” Krista says. “I can see why it would be hard for you to make new friends. Know who you can trust.”
“Especially when you had a bully like Giselle on your heels,” Ivy adds.
“Right?” I say. “If only she had opened up to me in life. I think we could have really helped each other.”
“Well, sounds like she trusts you now,” Ivy says.
I nod, smearing away the rest of my tears. “But I think we might be running out of time. When I saw her last night, she looked terrible. Like she was wasting away.”
Krista purses her lips together for a moment before she speaks. “Okay, but what can we do? This is, like, top secret stuff. No one’s gonna believe it’s possible that Giselle was murdered. We can’t even use what happened to your boyfriend as proof because it’s too dangerous.”
Jaxon’s been quiet for a while now. When I look over at him, he seems to hesitate before committing to speak. “If you killed your boyfriend by accident...umm...I hate to ask, but did you accidentally kill Giselle?”
“No.” I shake my head emphatically. “No, absolutely not. I had nothing to do with Giselle’s death. I only found her after I left you in the library.”
“Sorry,” he says. “I had to ask.”
I press my lips together and nod. “No, it’s a fair question. But what if someone else did?”
Ivy runs her fingers through her hair, looking over my shoulder toward the school. “Well, if it was an accident,” she says, “maybe we should leave well enough alone? I mean, we wouldn’t want you to go to jail for Beau’s death. It was an accident. Do we want to ruin someone else’s life by accusing them of murder? Or manslaughter, or whatever? That could be some seriously bad karma that could backfire on you especially.”
“I think Giselle’s death might be different. Giselle told me to avenge her. I think her death might have been malicious.”
Jaxon scratches his eyebrow. “Well, Giselle was kind of a bitch,” he says. “I can see her wanting revenge on someone for killing her, even if it was an accident.”
“Well, maybe,” I say, because that does fit the Giselle we all knew while she was alive. “But I think her death is connected to her statue research. She keeps telling me to ‘help them.’ And then there’s the notebook. And the runes. I think we need to find out who killed her and connect the dots. We don’t necessarily have to out the killer to Ms. Brewster or the authorities. But we do need to find him—”
“Or her,” Ivy adds.
“Or her,” I say. “And then figure out what Giselle wants me to do about the statues.”
“So, how do we find out how Giselle died?” Krista asks. “We aren’t like CSI people.”
“And it sounds like Ms. Brewster cleaned up the scene,” Ivy adds.
“Hasn’t Giselle been buried?” I ask. “I assume her parents collected her body when they came.”
We all go quiet as we look at each other.
Finally, Jaxon speaks up, asking the same question that’s on my mind. Possibly on all of our minds.
“Did they, though?” he asks. “I never saw them like...take a body bag away.”
“Me neither,” Ivy says.
“Same,” Krista adds.
I had hidden away in my room while Giselle’s parents were here, so I didn’t see anything. But I assume everyone else was watching the grieving parents pretty closely. Like slowing down for a car wreck. You can’t help but look.
“There never was an announcement for a funeral,” Krista adds. “I mean, we all would have gone if there had been a funeral.”
We look at each other again and then pull out our phones. I Google Giselle’s name, but Ivy beats me to a conclusion.
“There’s nothing,” Ivy says. “Nothing about her death. No memorial service. No mention of a funeral. Nothing."
“That’s weird.” I keep scrolling the search results, but it looks like Ivy is right. “Do witches have funerals like in the mortal world? Would there be an announcement?”
“There should have been a regular announcement,” Krista says. “Because we are still part of human communities. There also should have been a pagan funeral ceremony of some sort. Giselle’s family are Grier witches, like you, Madison. They probably would have cremated the body and then scattered the ashes on the wind in a sacred location.”
“Krista’s right,” Ivy says. “Deceased fire witches are usually burned in a pyre, their essence going up in smoke. We water witches are either buried at sea or set to fire on a raft on a sacred body of water. Only earth witches are buried in a casket.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “This has gotten really morbid. But I guess the important takeaway is that Giselle should have had a funeral. Do family ever have private services?”
Jaxon practically jumps at this. “Many do, actually. Death can be a very private, personal experience.”
I look at him, deflated. There goes our lead.
Jaxon continues, however. “But a family like Giselle’s? They never do anything quietly. They would have wanted as many people present as possible to show how loved Giselle was. To emphasize their great loss.”
“So...if her family didn’t have a funeral, where is Giselle’s body?"
We all look at each other, and the others shrug.
“So, how do we find her?” I ask.
Krista sighs. “I’ll have to do a scrying spell.”
“Why you?”
“Unless you are secretly great at scrying, I’m the best out of the three of us.”
“Oh, well, that makes sense,” I say. “What do you need?”
“A map, a pendulum, and four candles,” Krista says. “I have everything but the map. But we can just print one in the library.”
“Then let’s get to work.”
We traipse our way to the library, to one of the shared computers, and Krista takes a seat with the three of us behind her. She calls up Google Maps.
“Are you going to print the whole world?” I ask her in a whisper.
“I mean, I guess she could be anywhere,” Krista says. “But her family was from LA. We could just print a map of California.”
“Print the whole US,” Jaxon suggests. “Just to be safe. The
n when we get a specific state or city, we can print a new one.”
“Fine,” Krista says as she clicks print and takes the map from the printer tray.
“Anything I can help you kids with?” Mr. Hamilton asks us as we walk back out.
“Got it!” Krista says with a wave as we pass.
We follow Krista up to her room. I can’t help but look around since this is my first time here. The room is so cozy and...spiritual. There are plants and crystals along the windowsills, a smoldering stick of sage in a bowl on a table, classic paintings of women by artists like John Waterhouse. On her desk, there is a large book of shadows. She’s probably been using it for as long as she could write.
“Who is your roommate?” I ask.
“Celine Daughtry,” Krista says. “Fourth year Craig witch.” She lays the map on the floor in the middle of the room, then she sets a candle on each corner and kneels over it with a crystal pendulum she takes from a drawer. “Which way is perfect north?”
Jaxon closes his eyes and exhales. He turns to his right, then his left, then farther left. He raises his arm. “This way.”
Krista turns the map so that the center of the United States is lined up with perfect north. Then she lights the candles and dangles the pendulum over it.
“North, South, East, and West,
Oh, great Goddess, light my path.
Giselle is lost to me,
But all things, you can see.
Show me the way,
So mote it be.”
We all hold our breath as the pendulum swings in a huge circle over the map. Then, Krista starts moving the pendulum toward the West.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“If the pendulum swings widely, she’s in the wrong place,” Ivy says. “The closer she gets, the smaller the swing until it finally stops over the right location.”
Krista moves the pendulum to California, right over LA. But the crystal swings as widely as ever. She grunts, then moves back across the map, much more slowly.
“Come on,” she grumbles when she ends up back in the middle.
“Maybe go north or south?” I suggest.
“It will show me if I need to,” Krista says, and I decide to stop helping. She knows what she’s doing.
She finally ends up all the way back at the eastern seaboard, over the Carolinas, and even I can see the swing of the pendulum is arching north.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Krista says as she moves up the coast, toward Massachusetts. The pendulum stops swinging once she reaches our state.
“She’s here,” I say. “Giselle’s body is still here at La Voisin.”
Chapter 24
“But...how?” Krista asks as she looks up from the map. “She should have been sent home, right? How could she still be here?”
“Maybe she’s just in Danvers,” Ivy offers. “It’s a small town, but there’s a hospital. There must be a mortuary. Or maybe a funeral home. She can’t be here here.”
My skin breaks out into goose bumps, and the hairs on the back of my neck tingle. I look around the room. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. No ghost or anything. But I just know Giselle—her body—is close. Still, the girls are right. It’s crazy to think that Giselle’s body might still be here in the house.
“I don’t think she would be at a human hospital or funeral home,” Jaxon offers. “We take care of our own, remember?”
The girls sigh and shift their weight.
“That’s true,” Krista admits. “I mean, I haven’t been involved in many witch funerals, but from what I remember when my grandpa died, he was sent home, and the body and memorial were prepared by a Craig elder.”
“That sounds about right,” Jaxon says. “So it makes more sense for Giselle’s body to be here than in town.”
“But where?” Ivy asks. “And why? Why isn’t she home?”
“I am sure we will find the answers to ‘why’ when we find her,” I say. “But we need to focus on the ‘where’ first.”
“Well, if we had a map of La Voisin, I could try to pinpoint the right area of the house.”
We all look at each other and shrug. None of us have a blueprint of the school.
“What if we draw a map of the house?” I ask. “Would that work?”
“In most cases, that would be sufficient,” Krista says. “But in a house like this, with so many secrets and so much history, I have a feeling there are lots of hidden rooms we wouldn’t be able to draw in ourselves. I doubt she’s easy to find."
I rub my forehead. “This is bizarre. I can’t believe someone is hiding a body here in the school.”
“Okay, well, we need to put our heads together and think,” Ivy says. “How do we find her? Can our powers help?”
“Well, a dead body might...smell,” Jaxon says. “Don’t air witches have heightened smell?”
I open my mouth to protest when I realize he’s probably right. Similarly to how I have heightened hearing because sounds carry on the breeze, I should probably be able to smell things better than most people because scents carry on the air too.
“Umm...maybe if I was a better witch, that would work,” I say. “But I’ve not worked on that skill. I’ll have to talk to Ms. Boucher about it at some point.”
“Okay,” Jaxon says. “What else could help us find a body?”
“The cold,” Krista offers. “To prevent decay, the body would have to be kept cold.”
Ivy pats Krista on the shoulder. “Smart! Can you sense strong cold?”
“I should be able to,” Krista says. “But it depends on how well the cold is insulated. Like, I can’t usually feel the cold from a deep freezer because the doors are so thick and they have seals.”
“So, if Giselle is in a freezer, you probably can’t find her?” I ask.
Krista nods.
The thought of someone stuffing Giselle’s body into a freezer makes me nearly sick. “We have to find her. We can’t let whoever did this to her get away with it.”
Jaxon tucks his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his feet. “Let’s just head down to the first floor and have a look around. Maybe one of us will sense something.”
“We need to act casual,” I say as we all pile out of the room. “We don’t want to tip someone off that we are looking for a body.”
The others nod, and we traipse down the hall single file, then head down the back stairs to the first floor.
Thankfully, there aren’t many people milling about. I check the time and see that we actually should all be in classes right now. We’re going to have to come up with some excuse for why we are all missing classes at the same time. But that’s a worry for later.
We turn left and walk down the hall. I assume Krista is trying to sense cold air. I’m taking deep, concentrated breaths, trying to see if I can find anything that stinks of decay. It’s a strange sensation. I’ve never done this before, but it’s as if I suddenly don’t just have sensitive smelling, but a whole new sense. Ivy is in front of me, and not only can I smell her lavender shampoo, but I can almost...see a light purple haze—even when I close my eyes. I can see the shadow of the scent wave right and left as she takes slow, deliberate steps, and I realize that, if I wanted to, I could follow her based solely on the smell of her shampoo. Is this how scent dogs follow smells so well? This could be a useful skill. I’ll have to ask Ms. Boucher for tips on developing it.
Of course, not only do I smell Ivy’s delicious shampoo, I can also tell that Jaxon had pizza bagels recently because his breath smells of garlic and oregano. I can also sense that Krista is perspiring, as though she is nervous about something. Perhaps having to use her power to look for a dead body is stressing her out.
“Hey, Krista,” I say, reaching for her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure you are doing great. Don’t worry.”
“What?” she asks, a surprised note in her voice.
“I can tell you’re nervous.”
“Really?” she
says, and I can hear her heart beat faster. I guess I shouldn’t have said anything. It just made her more self-conscious.
“Sorry,” I said. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”
“Sure thing, weirdo,” she says with a playful wink that seems forced. “You just focus on smelling a dead body.”
I nod and look ahead of me. We are still walking single file, slowly, each of us using our hands or cocking our heads in a way that would show we are obviously using our powers.
“Hey, guys,” I whisper. “Maybe we should—”
“What’s going on out here?” Mr. Hamilton asks, coming out of the library.
I grumble to myself. I was about to suggest we break up and look less conspicuous, but we’ve already been caught.
“Nothing,” Krista says.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Mr. Hamilton says, stepping down the hall, closer to us. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“We...are,” I say. “We were looking for something for...Ms. Boucher.”
“Oh?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in a challenging way. “What are you looking for? Perhaps I can help.”
I look back to the others with a “help me!” expression.
“The cold room,” Ivy says. “She needs some herbs from the cold room, but I’ve never been there. Can you help?”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Hamilton asks, looking a little wary. I glance at Ivy with a questioning look, but she doesn’t look back. She holds Mr. Hamilton’s gaze, nothing but confidence on her face.
“I’m sure,” Ivy says. “It’s urgent.”
Mr. Hamilton clears his throat and nods in the other direction. “Third door. The basement. The cold herb storage is clearly marked. Don’t go poking around anywhere else, though. It’s not safe for students.”
“Sure,” Ivy says. “Of course. In and out.”
She glides past him, cool as a cucumber, and we follow her, mumbling our thanks to Mr. Hamilton as we go. Ivy opens the door he indicated, and we all slip past her down the stairs as she closes the door behind us. I let out a breath I had been holding for quite some time.
Curse of Stone (Academy of the Damned Book 1) Page 22