by K M Charron
Slipping her phone out of her back pocket, she snapped a few pictures from the Wyatt family grimoire––specifically protection, binding, and curse spells. Each bloodline passed their family’s spells down to the next generation. Most families had unique magic crafted by them. This meant you could ask ten witches do perform a protection spell and get ten different incantations.
Now at least, she’d know what to prepare for if she went against him in the testing. Half of the other apprentices weren’t concerned with being the best witch they could. They focused on which Ashcroft party they were going to next or who was dating whom. Sydney didn’t have that luxury. Not if she would be able to hold her head up as a Lockwood. It wasn’t enough to be a witch. She needed to be a great witch, a powerful witch, a witch that commanded respect, reverence, and fear.
As she took the last photograph, she heard the squeaking sound of Oswald’s cart in the distance.
She gasped and fumbled to close the grimoire before realizing it was the lit candle that would get her caught. She blew it out, smoke trailing off the extinguished wick. She closed her eyes, cursing it. There was a slight chance Oswald wouldn’t smell the smoke. He was pretty old, after all.
The sound grew closer.
There was no time to put the grimoire back with the robe and everything else neatly replaced on top. He was coming, and by her estimate, he was only seconds away.
She had nowhere to hide; the room was an exposed and open cavern. Sydney flipped through the grimoire, pretending to study it. He wouldn’t know it wasn’t hers.
Oswald walked into the room, the squeaking stopping abruptly. She eyed him in her periphery but didn’t look up. She knew he was staring at her.
There was no more pretending. “Oh. Hi, Oswald, how are you this morning?" The chirpiness to her voice nearly convinced her that she wasn’t completely freaking out. What if he turned her into her mother for this infraction? Her legs quivered behind the table.
"Miss Lockwood, I’m surprised to see you. What are you doing here so early?" Leaving his cart, he shuffled toward her, slightly dragging his bad leg as he moved.
She straightened, squaring her shoulders. "I wanted to write something down before I forgot it. I can be quite absentminded, and you know I can’t be putting it on a piece of paper. What if I dropped it? Any middling could see it." She winced at her words. He was a middling.
Great insult him, what a wonderful way to not get turned in.
"I didn’t mean it like that. I thought I’d come down here and take care of it before Ashcroft school starts."
"I see." He made it to her table, and put a hand on the edge, steadying himself. "You’re not supposed to be in the Nest or tunnels unsupervised before hours." He ran his tongue over his yellowed teeth making a sucking sound. "I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that."
Sydney smiled instead of cringing like she wanted to. "I know, Oswald, I should’ve waited. But I’m really nervous about forgetting this. It could help me with the upcoming test, and well, I’ve been struggling a little bit, and the pressure is pretty intense. Do you think you could cut me a break and not tell my mother?" She batted her eyelashes, though his night vision probably sucked, too.
A slow forming smile developed. "I am sympathetic to your predicament, Miss Lockwood. I remember your brother quite well. It must be difficult to please your mother with that kind of competition in your own family. Growing up, I felt that way about my father. He was a very tough man. Unrelenting and unforgiving." He narrowed his gaze on her. She clenched her fists behind her back. "Your secret is safe with me," he said.
"Oh, Oswald, thank you!"
He put his hand up in warning. “Unless…"
Her smile disappeared, heart fluttering. "Unless what?"
He tried to straighten, to appear more commanding, she suspected. "Unless I see you down here again when you’re not supposed to be. Then you’ll leave me no choice."
"Got it. Don’t worry about me."
As he turned to go, she scrambled to put the Wyatt grimoire back before sprinting for the winding stone staircase that led up to Ashcroft’s grounds. It had been a long time since someone had protected her. An image of her father in his hospital bed came to mind. She stopped halfway up, turned, and said, "And Oswald, Thank you.”
"My pleasure, Ms. Lockwood."
Ainsley
Chapter 19
Ainsley hadn’t let Darren Angelo out of her sight for weeks. Today, she lingered at her locker, pretending to text but secretly watching him as he leaned against the wall, joking and talking to his friends. She told herself that there had to be some clue that would indicate he was guilty of something, that he was at least partly responsible for Daphne Whitmore’s disappearance. She wasn’t sure what she’d been searching for—a bad temper, creepy secrecy, sneaking away to do horrible things, how he treated the girls he hung around with. She hadn’t noticed anything off about the guy. She’d observed him eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, watched him wrestle around with his friends on the lawn, study in the library, pick up toiletries from a little shop in the village, and talk to a professor in the hallway. She’d even spied on him during soccer practice. Nothing about him stood out.
Watching him could only accomplish so much, she decided. Squaring her shoulders, Ainsley gritted her teeth and stalked over to him before she lost her nerve.
"Hi, are you Darren? I was hoping to talk to you for a minute." Ugh, she felt so awkward. If only she could flip her hair, bat her eyelashes, and flirt. It would be easier if she had an actual reason for approaching him. The way she’d come at him, she might as well have been a cop. She needed to soften her stance.
The three friends he was with leered openly at her.
"Uh, yeah, and you are?"
His question was refreshing—someone who didn't recognize her.
"Oh, right, sorry. I’m Ainsley."
Shit. This wasn’t going to work once he had heard her name. With how much Ashcroft students gossiped, he must’ve heard of her by now. How could she explain her friendship with Daphne when she’d only recently moved here from Maine?
He stared blankly at her, his eyes narrow with cold assessment. His friends high-fived him and walked off, leaving the two of them alone. Darren tilted his head. "And?" he said roughly. She didn’t blame him. If she’d been under half as much scrutiny, Ainsley wouldn’t trust strangers either.
She needed a lie here. It was clear by Darren’s body language that he had no time for pleasantries.
"I wanted to introduce myself." Might as well go for it, she decided. "I was friends with Daphne."
His face softened instantly, his stiff body uncoiling in front of her. "Oh. Really? What’s your name again?"
"Ainsley."
"She never mentioned you."
"Maybe you just don’t remember." She smiled reassuringly.
"Ainsley’s not that common of a name.” All his wariness had returned. “I’m sure I’d remember. How did you know Daph?" His gaze moved from the top of Ainsley’s hair, down her blazer and skirt, to her converse sneakers.
Did know. Not do know. Did that mean Darren knew Daphne was dead?
"We went to summer camp together. When we were kids. I think we were nine or ten." Didn’t most kids go to camp? Ainsley hadn’t, but the chances of Daphne having gone were decent. Holding her breath, she waited for Darren to respond, to call her out as the liar she was.
His cold eyes lighted up again. "Eaglewood? Oh man, Daph talked about how much she loved it there. It was her escape from her crazy family, you know?"
She didn’t know, but she’d sure as hell play along. "Yeah, for both of us. It was only the one year, but we really bonded there, sharing stories around the campfire, eating s’mores…” God, could she be more generic?
Darren laughed, and it changed his whole face for a moment before he turned serious again. "I miss her."
Ainsley didn’t know what to do. Pretend she hadn’t heard about Daphne being missing, or sympathize
with him about it. No, there was no way he’d believe she hadn’t heard. There might not be any more missing posters around, but gossip—especially of this caliber— still traveled, especially here. "I was so devastated when I heard. It’s so unfair."
"It’s fucking bullshit." The coldness was back in addition to a newfound fury that put Ainsley on alert. "If the cops hadn’t wasted so much fucking time talking to me, they might’ve been able to find her."
She had to tread lightly. "I’m sorry they came after you. They always look at the people closest to the…" How could she finish that sentence?
"To the what? To the victim? It’s okay, you can say it. I know she’s gone."
Ainsley’s insides liquified. Was it an admission that Darren knew something? "Um, how? How could you know that?"
"We loved each other. Spent every moment together. Daph might’ve hated her home life, but we had a plan to move away after graduating. There was no way she’s just take off on me, and even if she did, she would’ve called to let me know she was okay."
"Were you with her the day it happened—the day she went missing?" She swallowed so hard it was audible.
"No, I was here. I had a soccer game. I was supposed to meet up with her afterward, but the cops showed up at the game. Coach pulled me out, and I sat in a fucking interrogation room for the next three hours. The first of many."
"I’m sorry. That must’ve been awful."
He sneered. "What’s awful is not knowing where your girlfriend is, who has her, what they could be doing to her. What’s awful is having Daphne’s parents beg me to tell them what I did with her. Having people stop talking to me." He paused, looking past her as if collecting himself. "I looked for her for months, Ainsley. When everyone else gave up, I was out there, but there was nothing to find. How can someone disappear with no trace?"
The bell rang, and they both snapped to attention. The abrupt shock pulled Darren out of his reverie. "Man, I didn’t mean to get into all that." He straightened, seemingly embarrassed. She knew that vulnerability. "See you around, Ainsley," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading down the hallway.
He knew she’d seen the pain he tried to push down day after day. She recognized that closing up expression all too well. And she knew he’d do everything in his power to avoid her from that point on.
She had no experience with interrogation or investigations, but as far as she could tell, the guy was innocent. Or he completely lacked a conscience, but she doubted that. The look on his face, in his eyes, was real. Her dad used to tell her she had good instincts about people and to listen to them, and her gut said Darren wasn’t responsible for Daphnes’ disappearance or whatever had led to her disappearance.
It was one thing to check off her list, but it left her with even fewer leads.
Other Ashcroft students must’ve known Daphne. She dated a popular student here. Darren probably took her to parties, maybe to sporting events, or the caf. What if someone saw her around here and targeted her? Why was Ainsley's dad so sure Daphne’s disappearance had a connection to Ashcroft? If Darren was the only direct link, then she needed to expand the search. It could’ve been someone from her school—a student or staff member—or a stranger looking for a crime of opportunity.
She had spoken to Darren, not to mention lightly stalked the guy. There wasn’t anything that indicated he was involved with anything so much as cheating on a math test, let alone kidnapping or murder. Her biggest lead until now was bogus. How was she supposed to put this together? This was more involved than she’d ever anticipated. God, she wished she could talk to her dad more than ever.
Sydney
Chapter 20
October
Willow nickered when Sydney walked into the stable. Syd had ridden her exclusively all last year and unofficially claimed her. No one even went near Willow when Sydney was around. They knew better. She let her hand move down Willow’s soft speckled gray cheek and under the black mane draped over her strong neck. "Did you miss me, girl?" She’d come to ride her over the summer a few times, one of the benefits of living nearby. "Sorry I’ve neglected you. I should’ve come sooner." Syd couldn’t believe it was already the middle of October and this was the first time they were going riding for PE.
The other riders flooded the stable, dressed in their tan and brown riding gear. Everyone at Ashcroft rode; it was part of growing up with money. Ballet, piano, violin, and swimming were all popular, but nearly everyone rode. Many even competed. Sydney, however, had been too preoccupied practicing her magic proficiencies to master anything outside of the coven. She rode for the pure pleasure of it.
Grabbing Willow by the reins, she opened the gate and led her out. The smell of autumn hung in the air. "You want to go for a ride, sweet girl?" She cooed. Willow was a generous spirit who was always happy to see her and was never disappointed in her.
A tentative, hesitant voice behind her asked, ”Are any of the horses a bit slow?"
Syd turned around. Who in their right mind would want a slow horse? And then she saw the deer-like stare. Her pulse quickened, and Willow started, feeling the sudden change in her mood. Horses were sensitive to outside emotion, Syd remembered, which was why she and willow understood each other so well.
Sydney watched a classmate and fellow witch bring Phoenix, a small, older bay, over to Ainsley.
"Phoenix is the gentlest horse at Ashcroft. He’ll take good care of you," Cara said, smiling.
White-hot fury blistered inside Sydney. How dare one of her own play nice with this middling?
"What’s the matter, Ainsley? Scared to ride?" She set her stare, first on the witch, then on the frightened eyes of her least favorite brunette.
"Don’t worry about me. I’m fine." Ainsley smiled, although it seemed forced. She took Phoenix’s reins and walked the horse outside the stable doors.
Sydney had backed off after the first few weeks, hoping to draw Ainsley out a bit. She’d put the word out to her friends to report back if they saw anything unusual—and Ava had spotted her talking to one of the Ashcroft custodians once, all hushed and secretive—but so far it had come to nothing. She’d put the word out to her friends to report back if they saw anything unusual, but so far it had come to nothing.
Sydney’s attention refocused on Cara. "She’s not worthy of your attention. Save it for another pet."
Cara looked down, black curls obscuring her face.
"Look at me," Syd commanded.
Cara lifted her head. "I was only being nice."
Sydney stalked to Cara, scowling. "Not. To. Her,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “You don’t want to get on my bad side, trust me. I have very little patience left for that middling, and if you don’t want to share her misery, I suggest you let her fend for herself. Do I make myself clear?"
Cara straightened, almost defiant. "Crystal." Grabbing her own horse’s reins, Cara headed out of the stables with her glare set straight ahead.
Whatever. So, she’d pissed off another witch. What else was new? Syd hated to be so snappy with Cara, but Ainsley’s poor-me pout made her so mad. Closing her eyes, Sydney lifted her face to the ceiling and inhaled. Scents of hay, horse, and earth filled her nostrils. At once, she felt herself steady. Willow nuzzled her hair, pulling her out of her meditation.
"Okay, girl. You ready?" She patted Willow’s neck and walked her outside to where the others were gathering.
Riding was her favorite sport because she didn’t have to contend with anyone else. She could be free, the wind in her face, and nothing but rolling earth beneath her. In control of a great beast who only wanted to please her, it was a far cry from the rest of her life.
Their equestrian coach gave them free rein through the woods for the first twenty minutes before they regrouped to practice in the arenas. Most of her classmates had already set off into the forest that surrounded Ashcroft. The woods circled the west and north areas of campus and stretched to nearly a thousand acres.
Scanning
the area, there was no sight of Ainsley. With how frightened she’d seemed, she was certain the girl would still be attempting to mount Phoenix, not off riding in the forest. This middling continued to surprise Syd, and it made her mad. Her jaw throbbed from clenching her teeth.
"Come on, Willow, we have someone to track. I think a little scare is in order, don’t you?"
The shade of the forest’s canopy was welcome. It eased the strain from the sun on her eyes. It was also a few degrees cooler. If she’d had anything of Ainsley’s, she’d have been able to track her easily, but she was forced to do it the middling way, riding and scanning the area around her.
"You won’t get too far," Syd whispered, nudging Willow’s sides. What was the easiest trail? she wondered. Directing Willow down the novice path, she picked up a brisk trot. None of the other students would bother to come down here, but it would be perfect for the likes of Ainsley.
Sending a gentle kick into Willow’s side, they cantered along, Sydney’s heart quickening at the thought that she was on a real hunt.
Minutes later she rounded a large grouping of Eastern White Pines, and as the area cleared, she spotted Ainsley and Phoenix a football field’s length away. The rookie hadn’t gotten far. Giving a bit on the reins, she increased speed, her target in sight.
The noise of Willow’s hooves hitting the ground gave her away, and Ainsley looked over her shoulder.
Their eyes locked. Sydney was sure Ainsley’s face dropped. She watched as Ainsley gave Phoenix a small kick. The bay stretched into an extended trot.