by J. A. White
Cordelia pulled the door shut. It locked automatically. There was no way for Benji and Agnes to get back inside the school without a key.
Her friends ran to the door and pounded on the glass.
“Have you lost your mind?” asked Agnes. “Get out of there!”
“Geist has the boy,” Cordelia said. “I have to help him.”
“Listen to me, Cordelia,” Benji said, placing his palms flat against the glass door. “You can’t fight him. He’ll kill you.”
“Just like he killed David Fisher,” added Agnes. “I know the boy’s important to you, but you have to let him go.”
Cordelia shook her head.
“I can’t do that,” she said, and raced down the hallway until the darkness of Shadow School swallowed her whole.
26
Geist
Cordelia sped around the corner, hoping to find the boy. Instead, she found a ghost box. It was about thirty feet off, sitting in the precise center of a long, locker-lined hallway. Cordelia was thrilled by this sudden stroke of good luck. After all, there was only one ghost box left, and she was going to need it to stop Geist. It was amazingly fortunate that Benji and Mr. Ward had left it here.
Except I just came down this hallway three minutes ago, Cordelia realized, the smile fading from her face. And that box was definitely not here.
She took a few hesitant steps down the hall. Why would Geist leave the box for me? she wondered. The door was closed, the lock bolted shut. Cordelia caught a flash of movement behind the window. Is there something terrible inside? Some kind of new horror that he left just for me?
A few steps later, she saw that it was the boy.
He met her eyes and frantically shook his head: Don’t come any closer! Cordelia figured the boy was trying to protect her, but she continued to approach the box anyway, looking warily from side to side. She didn’t see Geist anywhere.
He must be looking for Whistler and Lenny, Cordelia thought. Geist probably didn’t expect me to return so soon. If I hurry, I might be able to free the boy before he comes back.
The lockers to either side of her began to rumble and shake.
“Uh-oh,” Cordelia said.
Locks burst open and shot across the hall at dangerous speeds. Cordelia heard one whiz past her ear while another clipped her wrist, sending a lightning bolt of pain all the way to her elbow. She broke into a run. The ghost box was only ten feet away, and once she freed the boy, she thought she could use it as shelter until Geist’s attack passed. Before she could reach the box, however, the locker doors flew open and unleashed a tornado of school supplies. Within moments, Cordelia was bombarded by dry-erase boards, notebooks, pencils, calculators, and textbooks. She fought her way against the storm until a dictionary-thick volume smacked her right temple with a sickening thud. Cordelia collapsed, and the offending book landed right in front of her: Algebra II: A Real-World Approach.
I hate math, Cordelia thought.
The world went dark.
When Cordelia opened her eyes, she felt like she was moving. At first, she assumed this was just dizziness, but then she realized that she was inside the ghost box. Someone was pushing it.
The boy was inside the box as well, watching her with a look of concern.
“I’m okay,” Cordelia said. “It’s just a bump.”
She tried to stand, but the world began spinning like a carousel. Cordelia decided to remain seated on the floor of the box until her equilibrium returned.
“Any idea where he’s taking us?” she asked.
The boy shook his head.
Cordelia assumed that knocking her out and putting her in the ghost box had been Geist’s plan all along. Is this his revenge for what I did to Lenny? she wondered. Does he want me to see what it feels like? Cordelia wasn’t completely sold on this theory; Geist didn’t seem the type to seek revenge for his fallen allies. If anything, he probably wanted to punish her for using the ghost boxes in the first place. Maybe he’s taking us to some hidden room in the school, where I’ll be trapped inside the box forever, even after I turn into a ghost.
They stopped moving.
Cordelia heard the bolt lock disengage. She cautiously pushed the door open and stepped out of the box. She was back in the hallway outside room 206. Geist was standing in front of the cart. He wasn’t wearing his tinted goggles. Whatever happened next, he wanted to see it with his own eyes.
The boy started to follow her out of the box, but Geist flicked his wrist and the door slammed shut, locking him inside. Cordelia suddenly rose two feet into the air and drifted toward the cart. She tried to fight it, but Geist was too powerful. He didn’t stop moving her until she was hovering over the garbage can.
Geist removed the lid.
Cordelia found herself looking down a white chute that extended far beyond the physical limits of the can. She couldn’t even see the end of it. So that’s what happened to David Fisher, Cordelia thought, fear building in the pit of her stomach. She felt guilty that her parents would never know what happened to her.
Cordelia fell.
Instead of plummeting headfirst down the chute, as Geist no doubt intended, she landed half in and half out of the can, folded over at her hips. She tried to stand, but her feet didn’t reach the floor, and rocking backward only made her slide farther. Stay calm, she told herself, reaching out her hands to try to gain some purchase on the wall of the chute itself. It was slick to the touch and warmer than she thought it’d be. For a moment, it seemed to undulate beneath her fingers.
Is this thing alive? Cordelia wondered.
Her hands slipped on the wall, and she slid forward six inches. Momentum carried her deeper and deeper into the chute. In just a few moments, she would be past the point of no return and free-falling into its impossible depths. Before that happened, however, hands grabbed her ankles and pulled upward, lifting her out of the chute and back into Shadow School. She and her rescuer fell onto the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.
“Thanks,” Cordelia said to Benji. “I thought I was—”
“Later,” Benji said. “Agnes needs our help.”
Cordelia got to her feet and tried to catch up on all she had missed. Agnes, wearing the tinted glasses that had fallen from the cart, had dug one of the snatching tools into Geist’s back. The ghost kept trying to escape her grasp, but Agnes was able to follow each one of his movements and shift her weight accordingly.
That’s because she can see him, Cordelia thought. Those goggles don’t only help ghosts see the living. They help the living see ghosts!
Even with Agnes’s newfound ability, Geist was proving difficult to capture. He was on the verge of slipping away altogether when Benji clamped a second snatching tool to his left leg and pulled backward.
“Cordelia!” Agnes exclaimed, beads of sweat running down her face. “Help us!”
Cordelia grabbed a tool of her own and got to work, fastening the claw to Geist’s hip. The ghost snatcher spun in her direction, his green eyes glowing with malevolence, but there was nothing he could do: the three friends had triangulated their attack, and he was trapped within it.
“Pull!” Benji exclaimed.
Cordelia set her feet like a tug-of-war player during a championship game and pulled with all her strength. For a few moments, she seemed to make no progress whatsoever, then something within Geist snapped apart, and all three kids fell backward. When Cordelia sat up, she noticed two things. One, Geist was gone. Two, each one of their snatching tools now held a sad, deflated sac of skin.
They threw them in the garbage can.
27
Endings and Beginnings
Cordelia was nervous that Elijah Shadow might jump out and attack her as soon as she re-entered his office, but it turned out that he wasn’t the kind of ghost to hold a grudge. Besides, I’m not stealing something this time, she thought. I’m putting it back.
Cordelia slid open the appropriate drawer and returned the plans for the ghost box.
&nb
sp; “It’s hard to convey what a big deal this is for my family,” Dr. Roqueni said. It was her first time inside the office, and she looked close to tears. “It’s like our own personal holy grail.”
“What did they say when you told them?” Cordelia asked.
Dr. Roqueni scratched beneath the cast on her wrist.
“I called Uncle Darius last week to let him know that the ghost snatchers were no longer an issue at Shadow School. He was very impressed. He gave me his blessing if I wanted to return to Paris. In fact, he told me he could pull some strings and get me a curating job at the Louvre—my lifelong dream.”
“Congratulations,” Cordelia said, forcing a smile. “I’m really happy for you.”
“I told him no,” Dr. Roqueni said. “I have found, quite to my surprise, that I actually enjoy being the principal of Shadow School. For some reason, I needed the option to leave before I understood that.” Dr. Roqueni crossed the room and stood over Elijah’s bones. She bowed her head reverently. “Good morning, Great-Great-Grandfather. I’m sorry you’ve been down here in the dark for such a long time.”
“Should we bury him?” Cordelia asked.
“No,” Dr. Roqueni said, looking past Cordelia. “I think he’s right where he wants to be.” Cordelia spun around and saw Elijah’s ghost nodding with approval. “However,” Dr. Roqueni continued, clapping her hands together, “we can certainly make his stay a good deal more pleasant.” She pointed to the old chandelier, which barely lit the room. “The first thing we’re going to do is replace that thing with something that actually works. Then we’re going to sort through those books and see what we can salvage.”
“We?” Cordelia asked.
“Well, I can’t do it on my own,” she said. “I’m not ready to tell my family about this place. Not until I know what secrets it contains. If Elijah went to such an extent to keep this office hidden, he might have done so for a very good reason. We need to catalog and organize everything.”
“Catalog?” Cordelia asked. “Organize? Agnes is going to be in heaven. Not so sure about Benji.”
“There is one other thing,” Dr. Roqueni said. “I don’t think Uncle Darius believed everything I told him over the phone. He’s planning a visit in the fall. And when he comes, you and Benji need to hide your gifts at all costs.”
“Why?” Cordelia asked.
Dr. Roqueni looked at her with concern.
“Because if you don’t, I’m afraid he’ll make use of you.”
A few days later, Mr. Derleth asked Cordelia to drop by after school. She figured he wanted to talk about her grades. They hadn’t been very good since the business with the ghost boxes began, and she hoped she had enough time to improve them before the year ended.
“Good afternoon, Cordelia,” he said when she entered. “Take a seat.”
Mr. Derleth looked even sadder than usual today. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, as though he had been crying right before she entered. She saw a box of tissues on his usually barren desk.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Right as rain,” he said. Mr. Derleth cleared his throat and rose from his chair. “There’re just a few things I want to ask you. It would be best if you were honest with me, though. I’m a little tired of being lied to.”
He walked over to the door and closed it. Then, after the slightest hesitation, he locked it as well.
“What’s going on?” Cordelia asked.
“You tell me,” Mr. Derleth said, pulling down the shade so no one could see inside the room. There was an uncharacteristic edge to his voice. “You seem to know everything that goes on in this place.”
“I’d like to leave now, Mr. Derleth,” Cordelia said. “You’re scaring me.”
“Well, that makes two of us, Cordelia,” he said. “I’m scaring me too. But you’re not leaving this room until I know one thing. I’ve done the research. I’ve talked to Dr. Roqueni and the other teachers here. I’ve searched the school, time and time again. It’s gotten me nowhere. So that leaves you, Cordelia. My last hope.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A few months ago, you sat in that very chair and told me there were no ghosts in Shadow School. That Elijah Shadow was—your word—‘bonkers.’ In light of recent events, I believe that you were lying. So I’m going to ask you again. And I beg you: please tell me the truth this time, for both our sakes. Is Shadow School haunted?”
It was the sadness in his eyes, more than the anger, that made Cordelia tell the truth. “Yes,” she said.
Mr. Derleth gasped.
“Thank you, Cordelia,” he said, visibly shaken. “Thank you for at last being honest with me. Now another question, even more important than the first. Who haunts Shadow School?”
“It’s not just one person,” Cordelia said. “There’re too many to count.”
Mr. Derleth seemed surprised by this response. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a framed photo.
“How about him?” Mr. Derleth asked. “Does he haunt Shadow School?”
This time it was Cordelia’s turn to gasp.
The photograph was of the boy.
Cordelia stared out the window of her room. She could see the peaks of the White Mountains in the distance. Next year, she wanted to go skiing.
She thought about what she had learned.
The boy’s real name was Owen Tyler Derleth. He’d died two years ago. Cordelia didn’t know how. Mr. Derleth skipped over that part of the story, and Cordelia didn’t ask. After his son’s death, Mr. Derleth had a hard time. He stopped going to work and lost his job. Mrs. Derleth left. On the advice of a friend, he went to a psychic. Mr. Derleth hoped to receive some comforting news about his son being at rest so he could move on with his own life. Instead, the psychic told him that Owen’s spirit was trapped and needed to be rescued. She even told him where. At first, he didn’t believe her, but the more that Mr. Derleth researched the school, the more he feared that there might be something to it. Fortunately, there were always jobs available at Shadow School, which allowed Mr. Derleth to secretly conduct his investigation.
Cordelia had shown him her drawing of the boy, and Mr. Derleth had sobbed for a long time. Afterward, Cordelia had explained about Brightkeys, and how the boy’s appearance should provide them with the clues they needed to set him free. Mr. Derleth identified the boy’s Brightkey immediately. Cordelia didn’t feel bad about not being able to figure it out herself. It was something only his father would know.
Now there’s just one thing left to do, Cordelia thought.
She walked into the living room. Her parents were on the couch, watching a young couple on HGTV decide if an old Victorian was worth the price.
“Hey,” Cordelia said. “Can I sit with you guys for a while?”
“Always,” Mrs. Liu said, holding out her arms.
Cordelia snuggled between her parents. It was like old times. It was also something new.
They gathered in the gym after school. This was where it had all begun, so Cordelia thought it should end there as well. Agnes was still limping a little after her collision with the ghost cart, but according to the doctor she would be walking just fine by summer. Benji was wearing his soccer uniform. He had rejoined the team that week—much to the delight of Mr. Bruce—and had his first game later that afternoon. Cordelia and Agnes were going to watch him play, and then all three of them were planning to head into town for ice cream.
Mr. Derleth was there as well. He had dressed up for the occasion in a suit and tie. He held a small jewelry box in his hands.
“Are you sure you don’t want these?” Agnes asked, holding out a slim black case. Inside were the goggles that would allow even those without the Sight to see ghosts.
“I’m tempted,” Mr. Derleth said. “But I think I’d rather remember Owen the way he was, full of life and joy.” He scanned the gym. “Is he here?”
Owen was standing right next to Cordelia. He squinted up at Mr. Derleth without a hin
t of recognition. Cordelia wasn’t surprised. The boy hadn’t recognized his name when she told it to him, either. Agnes called it “spectral amnesia.”
“He’s so happy to see you,” Cordelia told Mr. Derleth. “You should see the smile on his face!”
Owen gave her a strange look.
“What do I do?” Mr. Derleth asked.
“Just open the box and put it on the floor,” Benji said. “That’s all there is to it.”
Mr. Derleth followed Benji’s directions. Inside the box was a single stamp of a green-and-blue locomotive. It said JERSEY at the top and was worth three pence. A postmark had marred the stamp with straight black lines.
“Look, Owen,” he said. “Your favorite stamp. Just like the one on your shirt.”
The boy looked down at his pajamas. He saw the match and smiled in wonder.
“Do you remember how you used to curl up in bed next to me and we would look through my collection together?” Mr. Derleth asked. “The train stamps were always your favorites.”
Owen picked up the stamp. Unlike the other potential Brightkeys that Cordelia had tried over the past months, he had no problem holding it. Mr. Derleth’s mouth fell open as the stamp floated before his eyes.
“Is that Owen doing that?” he asked. “Is that my boy?”
“Yes, Mr. Derleth,” Benji said. “It’s working. He’ll be at peace soon.”
A black triangle appeared above the boy. It slid open. Sunlight filled the gym. Cordelia could hear children playing and the squeaking sound of a swing going back and forth. The boy began to the rise into the air.
Instead of welcoming his Bright, however, he looked back at Cordelia and held out his arms.
No, he mouthed, shaking his head. Stay!
The boy stopped rising.
“He’s fighting it,” Benji whispered, placing a hand on Cordelia’s shoulder. “You have to stop him. I don’t think you get another chance at this kind of thing.”
The boy dropped to the ground. Above him, the black triangle began to slide shut.
“I know you’re scared,” Cordelia said, tears obscuring her vision. “But it’s going to be wonderful. Listen! Do you hear that?”