Ghost Academy: Book One

by E. C. Farrell

  “Not at all.” Haya settles on her bed. “I was distracted. I died of a brain aneurysm in one of my classes and I was right in the middle of this mathematical conundrum I was attempting to work out.”

  Glancing at my mattress, I attempt to sit too. It feels pretty solid under me, so I release my weight and, much to my relief, stay in place. Score! Thank goodness for ghost-friendly spells. “Couldn’t someone, like, show you the way back?”

  Haya adjusts her glasses. “Kaz could have, but I decided I wasn’t ready to pass on quite yet, which became my unfinished business, I suppose. Not to mention the fact that the study of ghosts is extremely interesting. We’re still ourselves without our corporeal bodies. A piece of us is missing.” She taps the end of her nose. “So, I stick around to find out more and help other people. I mean, we all have to help other students at Locklear finish their business, but I’m kind of a special case. I’ll start training to be a Ghost Guide after I’m done with all my classes. And since my body’s already been secured and moved to Locklear, I don’t really have to worry too much about the Xers.”

  “Is that all it takes?” I ask. “I mean, to decide to be a Ghost Guide. Just wanting to be one?”

  Haya pulls her glasses off completely, and cleans the lenses on her shirt. “No. Actually, it’s common for ghosts to get signs. They’ll show a propensity for protective spells, visions, things like that. Usually Ghost Guides were witches with the ability to see ghosts when they were alive — also known as mediums — but this isn’t always the case. I haven’t had any signs yet, but I like to keep a positive attitude. Especially considering the fact that I’ve helped other students pass on. There’s nothing quite so rewarding.”

  “Did you,” I bite my lip, then let it go, “help your roommate, um, Erin, pass on?”

  Haya bumps her heels against the floor. “I need to change for bed. It’s intriguing. We can actually change clothes. I’m still trying to work out the science behind it, but in practice it’s fairly easy. You just think about what you want to wear and... well...” She stands and squeezes her eyes shut. Her blouse ripples, shifting into a white tank, while her jeans soften into a pair of pajama bottoms. “The bathroom’s over there. We don’t actually need to use it or anything. Even though we can eat, we don’t experience typical body functions. But...it’s nice for privacy.”

  I want to push the question but figure she might disappear on me or something if I do. Instead, I try for a much less invasive inquiry. “Can we see ourselves in the mirror in there?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Haya pulls off her glasses, then slides under the sheets.

  “Then I have a weird favor.”

  “Don’t remember what you look like?”

  My eyes widen. “Dang. Good guess.”

  Haya smiles and slides her glasses back on. There’s a small gap between her front teeth I didn’t notice before. “I had enough context clues to form an appropriate theory. You have brown eyes, like, really dark brown, which looks awesome since you’re a blond. Though, your brows are dark, so that color might come from hydrogen peroxide.”

  I chuckle and hold a fist full of my hair in front of my face. It’s not exactly curly, but not straight either. Kind of an in between wave that reaches all the way to my elbows. “That feels right. Think this texture is natural though.”

  “It’s gorgeous. Oh! And you have a little scar on your upper lip.” She touches the spot on her own face. “Almost like you had surgery to correct a cleft palate.”

  I mimic her gesture, feeling the raised surface, trying to pull up a memory. Nothing comes, so I look back up at Haya. “Thanks. Not just for telling me what I look like. You’re a great second-wave welcome crew.”

  “No problem.” She scoots down further under the sheets. “Sorry again about Landon too. He’s not a nice guy, per say,” she yawns and slides off her glasses, “but he’s not the nightmare you met in the hall tonight. He’s had a rough time since...since Erin.”

  I arch a brow at her, unconvinced but also massively curious at another mention of her former roommate. Tall and blond are both my type, but brooding makes me want to punch the pout right off his perfect face. And since we physically ran into each other, I assume I can actually make this happen if he gives me a good enough reason.

  Not that I would ever use violence as an answer. At least I don’t think I would.

  But I’m not losing sleep over a punchable face. I have another mountain to climb. Eyes squinted shut, I focused on changing my clothes the way Haya did. A small breeze brushes across my body and then my arms and legs are entirely bare. I glance down to see pajama shorts and t-shirt.

  Ha! Another victory.

  I crawl carefully under my sheets, grateful for spells that make life, or after-life, easier on ghosts, and settle against the pillows, hoping none of those life flashes come back to haunt me in the night.

  Chapter Four

  If this first night is any indication of how the dead sleep, then death has cured me of my insomnia. Ah! Another revelation. Memories of lying in bed into the early hours of the morning tumble through my mind as consciousness returns the next morning. Healers tried for years to help me sleep, but nothing helped. When over the counter drugs failed too, I resigned myself to crossword puzzles.

  And there another piece fell into place. I loved crossword puzzles and sudoku.

  Stretching, I blink my eyes open. Faded winter sun shines between the half-closed curtains over the windows. It also streams through my hand when I reach out to touch one of the rays. My fingers glitter like fog, but warm slightly as if I still have physical skin and muscle to absorb the heat.

  I sit up and kick my legs through the beams of light. “Wild.”

  Haya’s bed is empty, and I wonder if maybe she already went down to breakfast. Sliding onto my feet, I attempt the clothes changing trick again, managing to flip my wardrobe successfully once more. Pleased with the dark wash jeans and red sweater get up, I fist bump the air. Maybe I’ll ace the afterlife.

  Ghost prodigy, Billie.

  As I giggle at this goofy thought, Haya slides through the bathroom door. “Good morning! Are you ready for your first meal at Locklear?”

  “Think I can handle something as simple as eating. In theory,” I say, following her into the hallway where a handful of other iridescent girls are making their way toward the stairs. “Unless all this has been misleading and mealtime turns into a hideous dystopia where we have to fight for sustenance.”

  Haya laughs as we sweep out of the dorms and toward the main building. “Don’t worry, the only time you should have to fight is in combat. Unless you’re into rap battles. Though we don’t have too many of those here either.”

  “That’s a relief.” I blow a raspberry. “Somehow I doubt I’d be any good at that.”

  We slide through the door of the dining hall and for the second time in twenty-four hours, I bump into another oddly solid, ghostly body. Rafe Warren floats about an inch away before he stops himself, then turns and aims that adorable grin at me. I really should get my mind right and stop ogling him.

  “Hey, you didn’t float through the ceiling of your dorms and into the atmosphere.” He lifts both hands and I meet him with a high five.

  The dorky gesture is insanely cute. “Definitely considering that a win.”

  “She even changed her clothes on the first try,” Haya says. “She is a quick study.”

  Rafe’s eyes bug. “No way. You can change clothes? How?”

  Haya covers her mouth with both hands. “Oh no, what kind of horrible roommate did they stick you with? He is clearly failing his duties.”

  “Oh, he’s fine,” Rafe says, face way more twitchy than one who is actually “fine” with their situation.

  I scrunch my face. “So, he’s a nightmare.”

  Rafe points at me. “For the record, I did not say that. Also, in his defense, he was already asleep when I got there, and left before I woke up.”

  Haya grimaces. “Sorry.
I’m happy to assist. I can even explain my theories on the science behind it. For now, though, just think fashiony thoughts.”

  Rafe laughs. “I’ll try that when I don’t have an audience. With my luck, I’ll attempt it and end up naked in the middle of the cafeteria.”

  Oh yes, that would be such a shame. I literally bite my tongue to keep from saying this insanely inappropriate comment out loud. “Yeah, that would be embarrassing.”

  “Majorly,” Rafe says. “Now let’s drown our sorrows in bacon.”

  I snap my fingers and point at him. “I like the way you think.”

  A funny little rumble moves through my spirit, the memory of feeling hungry. As the three of us make our sweep of the food counters, I wonder what other physical things we can do as ghosts besides eat. Like kissing or…sex. My face burns. I force my brain back to bacon and the process of weaving between all sorts of ghosts. Some students walk with their trays hovering ahead of them, while others don’t even bother touching the floor. Most everyone appears to be either human or supe, but I also catch sight of what I’m pretty sure are vampires and fae as well. Guess the former aren’t so undead after all.

  Haya leads us to her table in the middle of the dining hall. I’m nervous I’m going to fall straight through the bench, but since it doesn’t take much effort to sit, I assume maybe they’re spelled like the furniture in our bedrooms. Guess they decided to have mercy on our souls in here as well.

  Haya is telling Rafe how she got lost on her way to the door to the afterlife, when Landon approaches the table. His face immediately twists into a grimace when he sees me. So naturally I give him my biggest smile. I’m not trying to be a jerk, but grumpy people make something in me rebel. It’s not altruistic. It’s more of a “heap burning coals on their heads” kind of a thing.

  Angry people want a reaction and don’t like it when you don’t give them what they want.

  Landon doesn’t say a word. He just drops his tray on the table with a loud clatter, then sinks into the chair next to Rafe, a scowl darkening his features. The contrast between these two is kind of jarring. Where Rafe is lanky and full of easy smiles, Landon is broad shouldered and stormy. And though both are very attractive, Rafe’s personality intensifies his hotness, while Landon’s detracts from it.

  My imagination shifts into high gear, creating stories about why he’s so angry, but I pump the breaks. Maybe if I listen, I’ll pick up on what’s got his boxers in a twist. Maybe it will help me uncover more of the mystery surrounding Erin.

  Either oblivious to Landon’s dark expression, or just choosing to ignore it, Haya greets him, then leans a little in my direction. “Did you get your schedule yet, Billie?”

  “Yeah, Mr. Qureshi gave them to us last night.” I pull the piece of paper from my pocket — another spelled object — and smooth it out on the table. “Looks like I have...Discovering Your Unfinished Business first.”

  “I have that too,” Rafe says. “Though I think I’ve got a good chunk of that figured out.”

  I grin up at him but feel my stomach dip like a buoy at his expression. A frown tugs on the corners of his mouth and his dark eyes, which he’s now got aimed at the table, are wide with pain. Though I’ve only known him about a day, his general persona has been happy, friendly. Maybe those smiles are hiding deep wounds.

  Sometimes the people who smile most are the ones who have the deepest hurt.

  “That’s good,” Haya says, squeezing his forearm. “That class will help you work out how to finish it too. Some of it is very scientific, even if it is a soft science like Psychology, but even that has its benefits. And you’ll also be partnered up with somebody to help them finish theirs.”

  Rafe tries on a grin that fails to bring up the dimple. “That’s cool. I’m definitely going to need all the help I can get.”

  Landon rolls his eyes, stabbing his eggs with a plastic knife. “Yeah, it’s great. I love being delayed because of somebody else’s unfinished business.”

  I cross my arms and rest them on the table. “You in a hurry to get to the other side?”

  His glare cuts through me, so I lay on the smile a little harder. Maybe it’s slightly bratty, but at the moment, this is my only defense.

  “Let me explain something to you,” Landon says. “The longer we’re stuck in the realm of the living, the more likely it is that we can end up twisted. If some Xer finds our graves, or an object we didn’t realize we were tied to, and torches either one, we don’t get to pass on peacefully. We end up trapped on this plane as ugly shadows of ourselves. The only thing left behind is an angry entity on a rampage to cause all the damage it can. Is that what you want?”

  My mouth dries out and my breath catches in my chest. Haya gives a funny little grunt, almost like she’s clearing her throat. She stands quickly, mumbling something unintelligible, then glides out of the room. Again, I wonder if this is what happened to her former roommate, Erin. If it did, then Landon’s a total jerk for bringing it up.

  In the end though, I have to agree with him. The last thing I want is to lose my sanity because I hang around too long in a plane I no longer belong in. And if I’m going to avoid that, I have to get my memories back.

  The one million questions banging around in my mind rush me to finish breakfast and track down Kaz before class. I find him easily, eating a giant breakfast sandwich in the far corner of the dining hall all by himself. This only adds to my curiosity, but the answer to why he’s sitting alone is going to have to wait until the more pressing questions are out of the way.

  He gives me a little finger wave as I plop down in front of him. “Hey Billie. Settling in?”

  “I don’t know about the settling part. Landon and I just had a conversation that freaked me out a little.”

  Kaz sighs and sets down his sandwich. “He can be a little overly emotional and dramatic. So, don’t put too much stock in what he says.”

  Tracing the scar on my lip, I squint at the Ghost Guide. “So then if the Xers find my body, they’re not going to torch it and turn me into an unthinking rage monster? Like, well, like that ghost I saw in the field?”

  Tears well in my eyes at the memory of that encounter. Something about it was so painfully familiar, I just can’t remember why.

  “Okay, that part’s true,” Kaz says.

  I almost laugh at how direct his statement is. “Well isn’t that just swell. Do I need to be worried about a random forest fire destroying my bones too?”

  Kaz brushes crumbs off his hands. “A few things. First of all, we’re going to do everything we can to find your body as fast as possible. Burning bones can only twist you if it’s done with a very specific ritual and a particular set of spells. Cremation won’t twist any ghosts, and neither will death by fire.”

  This makes me pull up on the panic reins a bit. I hadn’t even thought of cremation or burning to death. I shiver at that thought. What Kaz says still isn’t totally comforting, but at least I don’t have to worry about a stupid accident causing me any problems. Now if I could just find my mortal coil, as it were, I’d feel a lot better.

  “That’s good at least,” I say.

  Kaz crosses an ankle over one of his knees. “I know it’s a lot to handle, especially since you’re also missing your memories. But Mr. Qureshi’s going to get in touch with one of our medium contacts today. He’s the best in the business. If anyone can find your body, Theo can. Trust us. We don’t want you getting twisted any more than you do.”

  Chapter Five

  This dark conversation, barely punctured by hope, follows me like an unhappy little cloud as Rafe and I search out our first class. Discovering Your Unfinished Business is near the front of the building, but I drag my feet a little, dread and worry sitting heavy on me.

  “I have a dumb question,” Rafe says, slowing down to keep pace with me.

  “What’s that?”

  “You okay?”

  I rake my hair away from my face, then let it slide free again. “I’m e
asy breezy. Just missing my memories, which makes finishing unfinished business a little bit hard. And, ya know, also missing my body, which could mean that at any second I become an insane polter-ghost and start a haunty rampage. But I’m fine.”

  Tears sting my eyes and I stop walking completely. It’s a fact I know without question that when I get frustrated or angry or overwhelmed, I cry. There’s no stopping the embarrassing breakdown from coming. I try to swallow past the lump of emotion in my throat, but it doesn’t work. I duck my head. The last thing I want is to cry in front of Rafe.

  But instead of doing the normal, awkward dude thing, he stops and turns to face me head on. “I’m sorry, that’s terrifying. I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll try to help if I can. Maybe twenty questions could jiggle something loose.” A small smile almost brings that dimple onto his cheek.

  I sniff and wipe my cheeks dry. “Thanks, but only if it doesn’t keep you from finishing yours.”

  Pain and panic flicker behind Rafe’s eyes, but he covers them up fast. “Well, let’s get in there and see if they can help us both figure stuff out, huh?”

  So many secrets.

  I lock away another question as we glide into the classroom. Like my dorm, it’s way bigger than I initially expected. One side is full of desks facing a podium, but the other is covered with yoga mats. Each of them is spaced out in pairs with a small pot of incense placed in between them. Winter sunlight streams through floor to ceiling windows along the back wall, yet another aspect to this school that’s killing the spooky-vibe.

  This whole scenario seems slightly less terrifying than combat. At least I’ll have corpse pose nailed already. I snicker at my own, internal joke as Rafe and I find a pair of empty desks in the middle. The second we settle, a line of teachers files into the room. All but one drift toward the mats. They sit cross-legged and light the incense while the lone teacher floats to the podium in front of us.