Thinking back on their little bubble made her smile. He’d acted so sweet and innocent the whole time. If Duko had been there, his suggestions would have gone from flirtatious to salacious in about five seconds. Heather glanced up to see what Duko was doing. He seemed to be growling it out with Finn in an argument about…biscuit dough?
Heather looked around the room. No one had taken Miss Sunshine up on her offer. Every single person in that class was working on their project whether they liked their partner or not.
And she had started it.
Bellwether, said Effie’s voice. Or maybe it was just the memory of her voice.
Miss Sunshine walked up and down the aisles, monitoring the class’s progress. When she came by Heather’s table, she stopped.
“Where is Mister”—she pretended to check the attendance roster—“Liddell today?”
Heather wanted to punch the Arachne right in her beautiful smug face. Instead, she decided to try a different tactic. “None of your business,” she said, loud enough for the adjacent tables to hear.
“Excuse me?”
The snide air of her mother was all too easy for Heather to adopt. It fueled her onward.
“Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you. That’s privileged information the school is not allowed to give out.”
It wasn’t completely a lie, but it was certainly a stretch. She wanted to test this bellwether power. Would the rest of the class stand with her against a common enemy?
“She’s right, you know,” said Poppy, predictably.
“Completely confidential,” added Oleander.
Then, wonder of all wonders, Kai Xanthopoulos piped up. “You should ask Professor Blake.”
It was working! And it felt really good.
“In fact,” said Heather. “Perhaps we should ask Professor Blake to find out what’s really wrong with Professor Mayfield.”
“What is wrong with Professor Mayfield, anyway?” asked Duko.
“We’d all like to sign a get well card for him,” said Bellamy. “I’ll ask Professor Blake for his address.”
Heather stood. “Perhaps we should drop by his house for a visit. He might appreciate some help.” She could imagine the poor man trapped in some cocoon, waiting to be eaten. If he hadn’t become spider food already.
The rest of the students in class stood as well. Miss Sunshine’s eyes widened as she realized she was surrounded by very curious—and very powerful—students. She hissed loudly in Heather’s face and then fled out the door.
“What kind of beast did she say she was, exactly?” asked Tinker.
“She didn’t,” said Finn.
Heather gathered her things and shoved them into her bat backpack.
“Where are you going?” asked Poppy.
“Lower library,” Heather answered. “You guys good here?”
Oleander nodded. “We’re good.”
“Let us know if you need anything,” said Poppy.
“Yeah,” said Oleander. “Make sure your stupid phone’s on this time.”
“It’s on,” she promised, and then scurried out the door. For the first time ever, Heather felt as though it might be possible to survive in the maelstrom of her life without being torn apart. And in order for that possibility to remain, she needed to stay alive.
She had to get her hands on that feather and destroy it, once and for all.
9
Owen knocked on the door.
When no one answered for a minute, he knocked harder.
He’d been a little surprised that his school badge had let him into the boys’ wing before dawn, but he probably shouldn’t have been. Harmswood was supposed to be a sanctuary for young paranormals, and sanctuary knew no visiting hours.
Owen prayed that Sam would answer the knock and not his flatmate. Ace, also known as “Stoneburner,” was a gargoyle. He was a giant even in human form. Ace wasn’t someone you wanted to meet in a dark alley, and Owen had seen his share of dark alleys.
The door opened to reveal a stone face with half-lidded stone eyes, a wide stone nose, very large stone fangs, and a stone snarl.
Owen winced.
“Cat,” the gargoyle grumbled, “you knock on this door one more time and I will squash you so flat that you’ll be jealous of pancakes.”
That gave Owen an idea. “Ace, if you let me in to talk to Sam, I’ll give you free pancakes at the diner for a week.”
The gargoyle’s eyes narrowed, but the snarl vanished. “A month.”
Ace was the star linebacker of the Harmswood American football team. A solid month’s worth of pancakes would take Owen the better part of a year to work off.
“Every weekend for a month,” said Owen. “That’s the best I can do.”
“Deal.” Ace opened the door a little wider and stepped back. Light from the hallway spilled into the dark room, falling upon Sam’s soundly sleeping form. “Good luck.”
“Sam,” Owen whispered, to no avail. “Sam!” Owen poked him in the shoulder. “Samuel!” Owen had no idea if his full name was Samuel or not, but Sam didn’t answer either way. Owen turned to Ace. “Is he dead?”
“May as well be,” Ace’s deep voice rumbled from beneath his coverlet. “The kid’s a were-sloth, after all. He could sleep through the Panic Parade.”
“Doesn’t he have class this morning?”
“Nope.” Ace yawned. “We both have the morning off. At least…we did.” The yawn ended in something of a growl. Owen chose to ignore it.
“What about the other days? Doesn’t he have an alarm or something? You’re his flatmate. Don’t you know how to wake him up? Ace? Can you help me?”
More rumbling. “You said you wanted to talk to him. Nothing in the deal about him having to answer back.”
“Come on, Ace,” Owen pleaded. “Sam works in the lower library, and I need to use his key to get into the vault down there.”
A large sigh emanated from beneath the lump of bedsheets. “What is it with you goonies and that stupid vault?”
“It’s…a long story. Just trust me. It’s a matter of life and death.”
“Nope.” Ace rolled over. “Don’t trust you.”
Owen took a deep breath and said, as fast as he could, “A hundred years ago I was cursed by a spider woman into the body of a cat until I got her the feather from a Fury’s wing. Well, Kai turned out to be a Fury, and now the spider woman is back and subbing in our Consumer Magics class and still wants me to kill Kai, which I won’t do. And she can’t either, because Kai’s pretty much unkillable. But Heather Hayden got one of Kai’s feathers back when she accidentally cursed Finn and killed his pack-brother, and if the spider woman finds out about it she’s going to get a hold of it and kill a god and maybe Heather too. I have to get to it first and destroy it before that happens and save Heather, so that we can make it to the Zombie Prom. And the feather’s in the vault, which is why I REALLY NEED SAM RIGHT NOW!”
Owen yelled the last part of his speech right into Sam’s face. The were-sloth didn’t so much as move a muscle.
Ace, however, started to laugh. And laugh. And continued laughing so hard he couldn’t seem to stop.
“Did I miss something?” Owen asked. “What was the funny bit?”
“You…and Heather Hayden…at prom…” Ace sat back up in bed, just so he could double over with laughter again. “Cat, that is possibly the most hilarious thing I have heard all year. Thank you for that.”
“You can thank me by helping me—get—Sam—up.” Owen yanked on Sam’s arm until he fell out of bed. Sam curled back up into a ball on the floor, happily snoring away.
Ace threw back his own covers. “How about I thank you by getting you into the vault instead?” He shifted into a more human form and pulled a pair of sweatpants over his boxers.
“You?” Owen asked. “But how…?”
“I work in the library too, fuzzbutt.” Ace pulled a Harmswood Athletics tee down over his massive washboard abs. “What, you think all jocks are too st
upid to read?”
“At this moment, my good fellow, I believe you to be the very opposite of stupid,” said Owen.
Ace opened a drawer in his bedside table and got out a set of keys. “We pull this off and you owe me two months of pancakes.”
Owen prayed José would be merciful. “You got it, Ace.”
The early birds of Harmswood were starting to stir—it was later than Owen thought. He’d miss Consumer Magics class. A shame, because if this went pear-shaped, he would have liked to see Heather one last time. Then again, the timing was probably a good thing, since “Miss Sunshine” would be too busy with students to go poking around in the bowels of Harmswood.
They passed the cafeteria and headed to the back stairwell. Ace’s stomach growled like a feral beast. “You owe me so much for this, Cat.”
“I am well aware,” said Owen.
Ace paused on the stair. “You’re also aware that Heather’s a cheerleader, right? Head cheerleader?”
“Yes, Ace.” Owen skipped right by him. Was the idea of them as a couple really so strange?
Apparently so. “Does she even know you exist?”
“Yes, Ace.”
“Seriously? She’s said more than two words to you?”
Owen sighed. “Yes, Ace.”
Ace thundered down the steps behind him. Owen had no idea how many hundreds of years old this section of the building was, but the fact that there was not so much as a creak beneath Ace’s hulking form spoke volumes for its craftsmanship. “What on earth makes you think you have a shot with her?”
Owen remembered something Kai had said to him. “Witches and cats, my friend,” he said. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Even still.” Ace shook his head. “She is seriously out of your league.”
“I know, Ace. I know.”
The gargoyle fiddled with his key ring. There were two oversized, ancient looking keys there—he used one of them to unlock the door. Owen assumed the other was for the vault.
Unlike Harmswood’s main library, with its opulent stained glass windows and high tech computer system, the basement library in this wing of the school was dank and unremarkable. He had no idea how far underground they were—the lack of windows brought to mind the deep-level air-raid shelters he’d heard about during the blitz. He’d left London long behind by then. There was a card catalog here in lieu of any computers, and the circulation desk communicated with the main library by way of pneumatic tube.
Owen’s old soul felt at home in this library, as did other students whose paranormal natures made them uneasy around technology. Where some students might have felt that working shifts in this library was a punishment, it made sense that a stonebeast and a sloth would be comfortable here. It also made sense for this library to house a vault full of dangerous old magic that no one talked about.
Owen glanced up at Ace. Well, no one outside his circle of goonies, apparently.
Once the library door closed behind them, they were engulfed in darkness.
“I don’t suppose you thought to bring a flashlight,” said Ace.
It probably should have occurred to Owen to grab one of the emergency torches from the diner. “Can’t you just turn on the lights?”
“I don’t exactly want to advertise that we’re open for business while we’re busy breaking into stuff.”
“Fair point,” said Owen. “Well, follow me, then.”
“Follow you?” Ace asked. “Why? I still don’t trust you.”
“Then trust my eyesight,” said Owen. “Cats have marvelous night vision.”
Ace put a large hand on Owen’s shoulder and followed him slowly across the room. In the pitch black, the gargoyle walked into a chair, a table, and one of the stacks almost immediately.
“You trying to put yourself out of commission?” Owen asked.
“Not on purpose,” said Ace.
A moment later, a small, blue orb of light appeared over the circulation desk. “Good job, mate,” said Owen.
“Wasn’t me,” said the gargoyle. “That’s Marisol.”
Owen looked around, but the library was still empty but for him and Ace. “Mari-who?”
Ace sighed. “Marisol. A ghost that apparently only I can see. Thank you, Marisol,” he said into the air.
The blue orb danced a bit, and then settled in beside them.
Owen knew the library had ghosts—all libraries had them. Most lingered in the biography section. But as far as Owen knew, if one person could see a ghost, everyone else could see them, too. He’d never heard of a ghost that only appeared to one person. But it seemed that this Marisol was no stranger to Ace, so Owen assumed her spirit was benevolent, if invisible.
Marisol’s blue light cast strange shadows as they walked through the stacks to the back of the library. Fairy wings and tentacles and flying ships appeared on the wall where there should have been nothing but shelves and books. Owen guessed that these dynamic shades were echoes of the contents of the texts, but in the half-darkness it was difficult not to imagine that monsters lurked around every corner.
Without warning, the library door swung open and shut once more. Owen and Ace both jumped at the sound.
“Dude, I thought you locked the door,” Ace whispered.
“You’re the one with the key!” Owen snapped.
“Chillax, scaredy cats. It’s just me.”
Heather’s beautiful face was suddenly illuminated by ghost light.
“No way,” said Ace.
“What are you doing here?” Owen asked.
Heather shrugged. “Great minds think alike, I guess.”
“We need to destroy the feather,” said Owen.
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Heather. “Now let’s hurry up and do that so we can get back to class.”
Ace’s stone-gray eyes went from Owen to Heather and then back again. “I seriously can’t believe what I’m seeing.” The blue ball of light spun around, as if agitated. “Well, I can see you, so I believe in you, obviously.”
“Who does he believe in?” Heather whispered to Owen.
“A ghost only he can see,” Owen answered.
“That’s a thing?”
“Apparently,” he told her. “So, Ace, are you in or out?”
“Oh, I’m in,” said the gargoyle. “I’m all in. If only to see how this plays out.”
Owen was fairly sure Ace wasn’t referring to the vault.
The gargoyle took up the other ancient key on his ring and shoved it into the lock on the vault door.
Heather was close enough to Owen that he could smell the sugar and chocolate that still lingered on her skin. Had she not showered or slept since last night? Her hair was still a mess, but the choker was back in place around her neck. The ghost light cast dark shadows under her eyes. She looked tired. But she also looked ready to get this over with. Owen knew, because he felt very much the same.
Had she been anyone else, Owen might have reached out in the darkness and taken her hand. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to pressure her one way or another. But it meant the world to him that she was by his side right now.
Ace’s impressive arm muscles tensed as he pulled the massive vault door open. A waft of musty cold air greeted them.
“I’m learning to hate that smell,” said Heather.
“You come here a lot, don’t you?” Ace asked.
“Every time I’m summoned by my mother,” said Heather. “The closer we get to my perfect sister’s wedding, the more often I go.”
This must have been what she’d meant at the diner when she told him she’d “just gotten back.” It also explained why she’d looked as exhausted then as she did now. “Sorry,” was all Owen could think to say.
“It’s all right,” she said as they walked into the vault. “The up side is that I know Professor Blake keeps the feather right…here.”
The spot Heather pointed to was empty. The blue light followed Heather’s finger, running down the vault shelf as if searchi
ng. When the light reached the far wall, something silver glimmered in the shadows.
“There it is!” cried Heather. “But I have no idea why…”
“Don’t you?” Miss Sunshine said as she stepped into the ghost light.
Behind them, the vault door slammed shut.
Ace started to scream.
The blue orb left Miss Sunshine immediately and fled to Ace, who was now covered head to toe in spiders.
“I figured the girl would lead me to you, Owen, but I did not bargain for this.” Miss Sunshine held up the feather in its clear box. “You can imagine my surprise.”
Ace fell to the floor, still screaming and writhing beneath the blanket of spiders.
“Don’t hurt him!” Owen pleaded.
“It’s not me you need to ask,” said Miss Sunshine. “But do not worry. My sisters won’t kill him right away. First he will be paralyzed and wrapped in the finest silk. Then, only then, will we feast upon his liquefied insides.” She looked down at the gargoyle. “He’s quite large. We will be able to sustain ourselves with his flesh for a very long time.”
Ace’s face contorted in pain. He swiped and swatted at the spiders, but as soon as he removed some, more swept in to take their place. Marisol’s blue orb shook and shimmered around in circles before flying into Ace’s wide open, screaming mouth. His chest began to glow a bright blue, and then his entire body. The vault filled with the sound of tearing clothes as Ace turned to stone, his face locked in a paroxysm of fear.
“Pity,” said Miss Sunshine. “I had such high hopes for that one. But no matter. We have you.”
Before Owen could open his mouth, he felt a pinch on the skin between his thumb and forefinger. He raised his hand to find that it, too, was covered in spiders.
“No!” Heather screamed.
Owen could already feel a tingling sensation in his arms and legs. He sat down before he could fall down. “Your sister said you would break my curse.”
Heather turned to scream at Miss Sunshine. “You have the feather! Why are you doing this?”
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