Then the handle clicked.
And within a blink, morning light filled the dark stairwell, sending life-giving energy to all of our parched souls.
"What in God's name...?" Ms. Harrison's voice boomed around us, generating glee within me.
Without a word, we barreled out of the basement, panting to regain our equilibrium and sanity.
The six of us huddled together, absorbing the fact that we'd escaped the catacombs and made it back to the safety of a new day.
As I panted, attempting to regain my sanity, I glared at Clayton again.
I hadn't fully decided yet if it was betrayal or not, but I knew I was pissed.
He'd conspired against me with Asher, but now that it was done, I had to acknowledge that the outcome wasn't terrible.
Sure, I wanted Hattie and me to have the opportunity to confront the banshee. We had hopes of awakening her to our existence, and maybe even save her.
That was a major loss due to Clayton and Asher's trickery.
But at the same time, maybe their plan had saved us from unfortunate parental disappointment.
As much as my rationale tried to reason things through, I couldn't stop from being fully pissed off. And with that, I couldn't hold back my attack.
"What the hell was that?" I barked into Clayton's face. "I had an opportunity to face my mother, and you stole that from me. I've never felt more betrayed in my life."
My accusations sent ice through my veins. I couldn't imagine what they must have done to Clayton.
But judging from the crushed expression that fell over his face, I realized they'd struck him deep.
"He was only helping me," Asher interjected. "It was my time. Not yours. And Clayton knew it."
I paused in complete shock of Asher's bold words.
"I know you need to confront her," he added. "But it was my job all along to move her to the other side. And I failed." His head hung low. "Clayton was only helping me complete what I was meant to do."
I hovered on his words, panicking that maybe he'd been successful.
If he had been, then I'd lose all opportunity to save my mother from her grisly fate.
"And..." I choked on my words.
"Did you send her to the other side?" Hattie pleaded.
Asher blinked, staring at Hattie with an innocence that only youth could know.
"No," he said. "I failed. Yet again."
And with that, Hattie launched over to him with arms wide.
She threw her arms around him and squeezed.
"Thank you," she whispered.
I closed my eyes in relief.
"Yes, Asher," I said. "Thank you for trying to help our mother cross over. And thank you for failing."
He looked at me in surprise at first, but then grinned.
"I wish I was better at what I did," he murmured.
"You'll figure it out," Clayton added. "It just means it wasn't the right time."
I glanced at Clayton, not too annoyed by his words. He actually might have been right.
Mr. Harrison pulled in closer to us.
"Well, I don't know what the heck is going on here, but I can only imagine you've discovered things you have no idea about," Ms. Harrison chimed, pulling her bulky sweater around her chest. She eyeballed the books in Piper and Noah's hands.
I glanced at the others, then at Ms. Harrison.
"The banshee," I started. "The Dark Witch."
Before I could continue, Ms. Harrison's response sent my mind spinning.
She stiffened and stepped away from us.
Her eyes darted around nervously, as if she feared whatever would be spoken next.
But I couldn't hold back, no matter how much I wanted to protect her from what we'd learned.
"The Dark Witch is our mother," I stated, pulling Hattie close to me.
Ms. Harrison stepped farther back, staring at the door to the catacombs. It was as if she expected the Dark Witch to burst out at any minute, and her fear of it was palpable.
"Oh dear," she murmured, glancing everywhere but at us. "I think we're going to need a meeting."
Chapter 8
Without discussing another word of it, Ms. Harrison ushered us out of the kitchen toward our bedrooms. With our tails between our legs, we hurried toward the stairs, wondering how she could have that kind of affect on us.
We'd just faced a fright-night locked in the catacombs, facing the Dark Witch, and it was now, in the morning light, that we scampered like mice away from Ms. Harrison.
It was because she had knowledge.
The kind that scared the crap out of us.
And she wasn't willing to release even a bit without the presence of the Higher Order.
"Did you see her freeze like that?" I whispered to Piper.
"Yeah, she's not very good at hiding her emotions," she agreed, shaking her head. "I don't even want to know what she's thinking. If it was bad enough to make her recoil like that, then she's got stories up her sleeve."
"Exactly."
I thought back to the morning when Ms. Reed and Ms. Harrison spoke to us in the dining room. Ms. Harrison had said that she'd witnessed the hysteria of the murderous mob in the past. She said she was there, and their intent was to burn witches.
I pressed the bridge of my nose and squinted my eyes.
She and Ms. Reed said they were able to reset the horrors of the past and give my parents another chance at a good life. But now things had turned bad again. Ms. Reed saw it when she was trapped in the abyss of Hell's Gates. She said the witch hunt had returned, but this time, the mob's focus was on the daughters, particularly me.
My stomach twisted in knots.
There was no doubt in my mind that the mob would kill my parents to get to us.
I had to wonder if the angst of the banshee carried these truths.
Keeping pace with the others, I allowed my mind to swim in every direction, hoping at some point, I'd figure out what to do.
The six of us made our way through the foyer and up the sprawling staircase toward the second floor. Asher and Hattie would typically go their separate ways to their rooms in the student wing, but without even a word, they kept pace with us to the next flight.
As we moved to the third floor, we passed through the graduate hallway and went straight for the library at the far end.
The enormous double doors opened into the great room, and I gazed into the massive fireplace at the back wall. As if by command, we flopped into a leather chairs and upholstered chaises, like sacks of potatoes.
Exhaustion was an understatement.
We'd missed an entire night's sleep, and not to mention, spent those hours in heart-pounding terror.
I stretched my legs out on my chaise and pulled a stiff pillow into my shoulder.
"Hey, any room for me?" Clayton inched onto the end by my feet.
I pressed my lips to the side.
I wasn't sure how I felt about him yet. As much as I wanted to be mad at him for derailing my plan at confronting the banshee, I knew he had his reasons.
"Sure," I murmured, moving my legs over.
He sat on the end with shoulders slouched.
Then he looked at me.
"I believed it was the right thing to do," he said. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't help it. You were in danger and I had to react."
My pulled-in eyebrows loosened slightly and I looked away.
"It's just so hard to believe," he continued. "How can she... that thing...?"
"Be my mother?" I finished for him.
He nodded. "It just doesn't make sense."
I glanced at the others, and watched as each one nodded off. First Noah. Then Piper, with her head on his shoulder.
Hattie strained to keep her eyes open while curled into the chair next to me, but I knew she was only two slow blinks away from slumber's bliss.
Asher though, he sat tall on a high-backed wooden chair, showing no attempts at being comfortable or resting. He kept his eyes fixed on Clayton and
me.
"Asher needs us," I whispered.
Clayton glanced over at him and then nodded. "Yup. I'd say he's beyond traumatized."
I reached my hand toward him. "Asher, come on. Come over here."
Before my words were done leaving my mouth, his feet hit the floor and was by our side in a flash. His eager eyes proved he craved an explanation, anything to make him feel normal again.
"We need to learn more about you, Asher," I began. "The Higher Order can help us. Then I'll train you and teach you to how to figure this out, one piece at a time. Okay?"
He nodded slowly.
"I'm sure there's more in the books, too," Clayton added. "Prof Finneas can probably help as well."
Asher's eyes remained wide and fixed on us. He glanced at the stack of archive journals Piper and Noah had piled on the corner table.
"Is there something else bothering you?" I asked, knowing full well his situation was more than enough to put him in this condition. But nevertheless, he was starting to go catatonic and I wondered if there was more to it.
"I remember Master Blake now," he whispered.
"Who?" I pulled back slightly.
"The other Angel of Death mentioned in the small journal. He's the one who taught me."
My face scrunched in confusion.
Asher went on. "It was Master Blake who found me. I remember now. I always wandered to the huge cemetery by my house and hovered at the edge of the funeral services. Blake noticed me one day, as he hovered too."
"You did what?" Clayton pulled back in shock. "You actually attended funerals of strangers?"
I shot wide eyes at Clayton to stop his judgmental tone.
But Asher didn't care. He was too lost in recalling his past memories like a flood.
"It's why they thought I was weird. All the kids. My teachers. My parents." Asher dropped his eyes to the floor. "I spent all my time at the cemetery watching burials."
I rubbed the mop of copper hair on top of his head.
"It's not weird, Asher. It's who you are. Your gift has to do with bringing calm emotion to people. It makes sense you would place yourself around grief and suffering."
He nodded.
"That's true." He smiled. "Blake did the same thing. Only more."
I kept my attention on him, giving him time to finish his jumbled thoughts.
"Master Blake helped the soul of the deceased say goodbye to its loved ones and then cross over. When he discovered me at the funerals, he knew I would be his next apprentice."
I nodded in understanding.
"Blake was the name of one of the original coven members. He was an UMA." I tried to recall the other UMA names as well. I'd just seen them earlier on in the Hell's Gates journal, but at this point, my mind was shot.
"Right," Asher agreed. "He'd only just begun my training when my parents had me sent away. They said I was distracted, heading down the wrong path. I'm sure I overheard words like possessed, drugged, and devil-worshipping, also." He shook his head, trying to recall the details.
But being sent to Hazeldene had that affect on students. They could never quite recall what had them sent there or why. Being torn from families was enough trauma to shut it out, and still, the students kept coming.
"But one thing I remember now, clear as a bell..." He shot up taller in his seat.
I leaned in, unblinking, and Clayton did too.
Asher continued, "I remember seeing Josie. At some of the cemeteries."
My breath stopped in my chest.
"Her face is so familiar to me now." He looked up in thought. "But she cautiously avoided Blake and me, keeping her distance. We were never sure of who she was or what she might need from us."
I coughed from the sound of her name and swallowed hard.
"But now I know," Asher said. "It's so obvious to me now."
Clayton leaned in. "What?"
"She's one of the unusual ones who has escaped crossing over. Her soul was taken, but she remained behind."
My air whooshed out of me in a torrent.
Asher's words had knocked it out of me, leaving me wheezing.
So it was true.
Josie was a ghost.
Maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, but nevertheless, a ghost of a person.
I'd noticed the term jump off the page in the archive ledger the first time Clayton and I had discovered it. Josie's origin story remained a mystery to me, written in strict confidence within the journal. But seeing that one word, while flipping through the pages, was all I needed to know that Asher was right.
"How do you know that, Asher?" I heaved. "How would her soul be gone, and her body be left behind."
Asher scratched the side of his head.
"There's only one way I know of," he murmured.
Clayton and I stared at him, unable to even begin to fathom an answer.
Asher blinked his large, gold-speckled eyes, reminding me of his youth and innocence.
"Someone took her soul from her," he stated.
My hand flew over my mouth.
Even someone like Josie didn't deserve such a fate. My heart pounded in my chest thinking about what it must be like to be so robbed, so betrayed.
I shook my head in disbelief.
"But how?"
Asher shrugged.
"I don't know," he said absentmindedly. "It's usually given away at first. Like in love. But when someone is left in the state she is in, it means it was stolen and never given back."
My jaw fell open, and I stared at Clayton.
My feelings for him suddenly hid in a safe place in my heart, like a fortress.
I'd allowed my heart and soul to become vulnerable to him and it felt so good. But with Asher's description of what happened to Josie, a strange sense of fear ran through me.
Clayton's brow lined with worry as he caught my lost stare.
I shook it off, reminding myself that we were okay. We took care of each other and protected one another. It was a safe space between us.
But then I realized, love is never safe.
And, unfortunately, that was what made it so exciting.
I bit my bottom lip, and turned back to Asher.
"So, what do we do?" I asked.
Asher shook his head like he had no clue.
"We need to learn more about Josie," Clayton interjected. "And to learn about her, we need to find out about Laney Rosco."
I nodded in slow motion, then turned my attention to Piper and Noah. They slept peacefully on their couch with the stack of ancient journals by their side.
"It's all in there," I said, pointing to the books on the corner table by them.
"And within the collective knowledge of the Higher Order," Clayton added.
Asher shimmied closer to us.
"You always said there was a curse hovering over Hazeldene." He studied me. "You said it hid in the forest and that the Higher Order tried to keep it concealed. You said that when I was new here. You said it was awakening."
A chill ran down my spine.
Asher was right. I said those things. And at the time, I meant them.
And now, there was more evidence of my prediction. The Dark Witch had emerged. Something dark still lingered in the forest. I felt it all around us.
"You're right, Asher. I did say those things." I pressed my lips together. "I don't know if the Higher Order will tell us what we need to know. They're very protective of the history of Hazeldene."
Clayton exhaled loudly.
"Almost like they're hiding something," he said.
Asher glanced from Clayton to me, as if hoping we held the solution.
"Well, we're just going to have to tell the Higher Order that it's time to spill all," Clayton stated.
And then with a bang, the doors of the library pushed open. A breeze passed over our faces as the doorway filled with three shadows.
A commanding voice then boomed through the room.
"And that is exactly what we intend to do."
>
Chancellor Kelly's voice resonated through the room commanding our full attention.
She stood tall in her long black coat with Ms. Reed and Ms. Harrison on either side.
Ms. Reed's colorful robe sent bright energy through the room, accentuating her eclectic beauty. But even with her spectacle of jewels, rings on every finger, crystals hanging from her dreads, the formal presence of the chancellor couldn't be softened.
"We intend to pass the history down to your new coven," Chancellor Kelly said, looking directly at me. "It is customary for the stories to move through the covens within the threads that bind us." She reached for the talisman hanging from her neck. "Have you chosen your high priest? It's been weeks now since you hived?"
Her direct question hit me between the eyes.
Of course I'd chosen my High Priest for our new coven. Only, I hadn't told him yet. And now, with Asher's talk of souls-lost-to-love throwing insecurity into the mix, I was all over the place.
Clayton didn't flinch.
He knew he was the clear choice for High Priest. Asher was too young and Noah, well, he wouldn't want it.
So why was it so difficult for me to make it official?
I guessed, in a way, it was like labeling our relationship, taking it to the next level. And I was perfectly content with the way things were.
Was this just another attempt at me protecting my heart, running from anything that got too close?
Probably.
I wished they could just tell us what we needed to know, but at the same time, it made sense that the history of the covens would be strictly protected.
"I have not named the High Priest of our coven yet."
I kept my eyes averted from Clayton.
But it made no difference. I felt his uncertainty radiating off him. It surged through my veins without filter, filling me with his fear of not being enough for me.
I closed my eyes, disgusted in myself.
What the hell was wrong with me?
He didn't deserve to feel that way at all. He was the clear choice. It was obvious.
"I'll see to it right away," I added.
"Very well, then." Chancellor Kelly nodded. "Once the coven is officially set, we will hold a Ritual of Ancestors."
And with that, the Higher Order left the library, closing the large double doors behind them.
Mystic Coven: Winter Wiccan (Supernatural Academy Graduates Book 2) Page 7