Ghost Academy: Book One

by E. C. Farrell

  Swatting his shoulder, I cut off his laughter with another kiss. One thing is for absolute certain, this adorable fox shifter is making the idea of passing on less and less attractive every day. I might be in more trouble than I initially realized.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The weekend passes somewhat peacefully, mainly filled with sleeping, eating, and yeah, a little kissing. It’s nice to rest outside of the Healing Ward where I was under constant surveillance. Rafe and I fall into major cliché category, taking long walks in the woods, holding hands, and ducking our friends.

  We encase ourselves in a relationship bubble, ignoring the threats pressing in around us, at least for a few days. Sometimes it’s easier to pretend the hard stuff doesn’t exist, to block out the rest of the world. Besides, I’d rather contemplate exactly what’s going on between Rafe and me.

  Even though lots of other academy students have a loose attitude about sex, what with the zero percent chance of pregnancy or disease and the whole supposed-to-move-on thing, I'm not like that. This is not that.

  It's already something more.

  I don't know what I was like in my life. Apart from that flash of a memory of what might have been a romantic encounter, at least for now, I'm not a casual hookup kind of girl. Not a friends with benefits person either.

  But what promises can we make? What future is there for me and Rafe? That thought is too depressing to voice aloud.

  So we don't say much. We don't ever have a DTR, a discussion about our commitment. All of our promises come through our lips, through our touches. Silent, yet somehow just as serious, just as strong as if we'd spoken them.

  It scares me a little. Not as much as the Twisted, but then again, I was fine taking one of them on. This thing between me and Rafe? Not even a little bit.

  I’m even able to force myself not to think about the conversation I overheard between Mr. Qureshi and Ms. Alvarez. Every so often when it tries to dip back into my brain I simply shove it away. After all, I deserve a few days off after everything I went through, right? Prolonged stress will only make it harder to recover.

  But reality had to crash back in at some point, and that wrecking ball comes in the form of Kaz Sunday night. Rafe and I sit across from each other on a couch in the common room, a stack of cards splayed out between us, a pile of my chips on his side.

  I glare at him over my cards. “I knew I was dating a fox, but I didn’t realize you were also a shark.”

  Wiggling his brows, Rafe lays down his hand and I groan. Yet again he has completely smoked me. It’s a very good thing we’re not actually playing for money. Not that I’d have anywhere to spend it in the afterlife, but still. I toss my own cards and shove the pile in his direction.

  As Kaz walks up, I point my last, single chip at him. “Save yourself a headache and never play poker with this guy. He will take you for everything you’re worth and then some.”

  Kaz chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind. But if you’re done losing to him, do you have a second to talk?”

  I glance at Rafe, then narrow my eyes at Kaz. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  Rafe gasps dramatically. “Uh, have you been dating both of us? I’m not necessarily saying I have a problem with reverse polygamy, but I’d like full disclosure beforehand.”

  I swat him with the back of my hand and he grabs a pillow, using it like a shield.

  Shaking his head, Kaz drops into the closest chair, tipping forward onto his elbows. “I mean, what we had was special but I think if we’re going to train together we need to keep it professional.”

  I splutter a laugh, more surprised that the ever serious Kaz is keeping up with the joke than his suggestion that we train together. He hasn’t exactly been stoic, but since our encounter in the woods, and subsequent intense conversations, I expected him to be a bit more solemn. It’s kind of nice to have my expectations subverted.

  “You’re right. Though I might need some more information. What are we training for? Do ghosts have an Olympics?”

  “You should do stand up,” Kaz says.

  He has dimples when he smiles too, but they’re not quite as cute as Rafe’s. Whereas Rafe has one single, adorable indent, Kaz’s are almost too perfect. Xer perfect. They do, however, make him look much younger than usual. I realize that in spite of my original perceptions, I have no idea how old he actually is.

  I have seriously got to start asking more questions.

  “Anyway, I thought you and I could train with our medium magic,” Kaz continues. “Obviously we have no idea the extent of your skills from when you were alive, so maybe training together could help you figure some things out, trigger some life flashes. Not to mention the added benefit of giving you more protection the next time you and Rafe go out into the field.”

  Spinning a chip between my fingers, I considered the offer. It would definitely give me more time to bug him with questions about The Twisted and maybe find a way to pump him for information about how the Healers suggested “taking care of” me. Besides, I can use all the practice I can get, and anything that might trigger another life flash would be helpful. Lifting my chin, I reach out to Kaz and he squeezes my hand.

  “I don’t have to call your Master Kaz, do I?” I purse my lips to fight off a grin.

  “I mean, I assumed you would,” Kaz says with a wink. “But if that’s a deal breaker, I’ll accept Lord Kaz as well.”

  I chuck a poker chip at him. “When do we start?”

  “Tomorrow after classes if you’re ready.”

  I glance at Rafe, who gives me the cheesiest thumbs up in history, then back at the Ghost Guide. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  We agree to meet in the combat building, then Kaz gets ballsy and challenges Rafe to a card game. I’m still thinking about how badly my fox shifter beat him when we meet up the next day. I even giggle a little when I waltz up to Kaz in the middle of the mats. Mostly because my new combat partner started off looking so confident when he first got his cards.

  Then it all fell apart. He’s horrific at bluffing. Rafe let him win a few rounds, building his confidence, then went in for the kill.

  “Yeah, yeah I know,” Kaz says at the look on my face. “Believe me, I’m never betting on anything with that kid ever again.”

  “You learn faster than I did.” I grin, crossing my arms. “It took me a few rounds before I realized it wasn’t just dumb luck. Rafe’s got a pretty amazing poker face.”

  “Makes sense those wolf shifters nabbed him.” Kaz winces and shuts his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that, it’s not fair.”

  The oxygen thins out of the room and even though I don’t need it, the effect leaves me feeling the urge to gasp. I want to ask what he means. But at the same time, I also kind of already know. Rafe holds up a mask of calm or happy so well it’s difficult to see the turmoil underneath. Which means he lies easily, a fact that the wolf shifters exploited when they kidnapped him and his sister.

  It shouldn’t bother me, but it does a little.

  I shake off these ugly thoughts and focus in on my own crap. “So how do we do this? These spells keep coming to me in the moment, but I don’t think I can remember them with any consistency. Also, will I learn ghost travel?”

  Kaz pulls his staff from behind his back. It glows with that same blue light and he grins. “It’ll come to you when you need it, but obviously we can practice what you already know, and I can teach you some more. And we’ll get to that a little later. It’s a pretty complicated spell.” He tilts his head to the weapons against the wall. “Grab one.”

  “Does it matter which?” I lift a brow.

  “Take the first one that speaks to you.”

  “Should I expect a particular language? French? Portuguese?” I lean toward the staffs. “Hablas español?”

  “Cute.”

  Snickering, I shut my eyes and reach out, grabbing the first weapon my fingers touch. It’s similar to the one Kaz uses, only shorter. I spin it over my knuckles. Someh
ow, it feels like it’s connected to me, like it belongs in my hand.

  Kaz grins. “Nice choice. A Jo staff doesn’t give you a ton of range, but it can be a little faster because of its size. Now, do you remember the spell you used on that Twisted Ghost in the woods?”

  “Maybe…” I tap the tip of the staff against my chin, finding the sounds before the words solidify, speaking them a second later as I hold the weapon out in front of me.

  Light crawls across it and spreads out into a circle similar to the shield from the woods. Relief floods me, because until this point, I really couldn’t tell if that defense had been actual skill or just dumb luck. It’s more than enough to help me ignore the lingering pain in my shoulder.

  “Perfect,” Kaz says. “You can also use these shields to deflect the Xers’ bullets. The next one’s not as easy, but like I said before, you might already know how to do it and just not remember. Watch and see.”

  He murmurs the same spell I had with a small alteration in the middle, then spins the staff around his body so it creates a full globe encasing him. Its surface ripples with power and fills the room with a musical hum. Kaz taps the ground and the orb dissipates.

  “Tug any memories?”

  I shift my lips to one side, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe I should just repeat what he said and hope for the best. When I try, the words get tangled, and even worse, when I spin the staff, it whacks me square in the forehead.

  “Ow.” I rub the sore spot. “That could have gone better.”

  With a laugh, Kaz rests his staff against the wall, and pulls a small black pad out of his pocket. “It might help if you look at it.”

  I study the phrase. The only real difference between it and the first spell is a single accent mark. Before I try again, I mumble the words a few times until they feel comfortable, then set the pad on a workout bench and step back.

  “Show me that spin again?” The throbbing spot on my head is a painful reminder that the words weren’t my only problem on the last try. “Next time I might blind myself.”

  Kaz obliges, his movements so fluid they almost look more like a dance than a defense. Just watching him I can tell he barely has to think about the next twist or turn. Did I know this as well when I was alive? Even if I’d lost my magic for a few years, I know I’d had them for a while. Will the spells and movements come back to me? The more I remember, the easier it will be not only to protect myself and Rafe, but possibly talk to the Twisted.

  It takes me a few more spins to get the orb to form. Even when I get the words right, my arms do not get the technique fast at all. My very first full shield flickers and breaks almost immediately.

  I let out a growl. “Guess I didn’t learn this one when I was alive. Which seems weird.”

  “Not necessarily,” Kaz says. “There’s no well-defined order to the progression. Apart from learning that first shield, you mainly follow whatever your teacher feels will help you most. With how much you want to help the Twisted, that might mean you focused more on other spells and hadn’t gotten too into the defensive ones.”

  I knead the back of my neck. The headache I’ve had since we got back from Blacksburg is showing no signs of easing up. Maybe I can blame my inability to do this particular move well on that. Not to mention the small problem of that bullet wound in my shoulder.

  By the end of the training session, I have a better handle on it, but I’m still not awesome.

  As Kaz and I walk out of the combat building, I realize there’s a part of our conversation that might have given me a new goal to chase. “You said there were other spells I might have concentrated on when I was alive. Would the Locklear library have any spell books with that kind of thing in it?”

  “For sure,” Kaz says. “I can help you find them. You can start studying the traveling spell too. That one’s pretty complicated like I said, so it’s good to learn the phraseology early on.”

  “Thanks.” I crack my knuckles with a thumb. “Speaking of spells, has anyone thought to look for one that, I don’t know, protects graves or bodies or whatever from the Xers?”

  It’s probably a dumb question. More than likely this was one of the first things they thought about doing. But it doesn’t hurt to ask.

  Kaz pauses a few feet from the doors to the main building, then turns back to me. “That’s also complicated.”

  “Shocker.” I grin.

  Sitting on one of the stone benches by the door, Kaz ruffles his hair with a hand, then fixes it immediately and leans against the wall. “There are obviously protection spells we can use, but most of them require continual concentration. It’s like with your shield. As long as you’re focused on keeping it up, you’re fine, but the second your concentration breaks, the shield does too. Like when you fell. There are stronger spells that don’t need this, but most are extremely difficult and wear off after a while. Which is why we don’t even have the graveyard at Locklear spelled. The wards protect it for now, but there’s always the danger of Xers showing up the way my brother and I did.”

  I remember him telling me this when I first came to Ghost Academy. There has to be a way to fix that, a way to better guard the bodies of the dead from the Xers. I’ll add it to the list of goals for Team Untwist the Mystery, along with researching a way to untwist the Twisted.

  Pressing the bottom of my shoe into the bench Kaz is sitting on, I decide to push my luck. “Has anyone ever looked into curing the Twisted?”

  Kaz sighs and shuts his eyes. “You can’t fix something if you don’t know what the root problem is. As Xers, we were told the spells we used sent ghosts to the other side. Clearly that’s not the case. And so far, my research into what they actually do hasn’t gotten me anywhere.” He rolls his staff between his palms. “And even though our shields allow us to get close to them, no one I know has ever been able to communicate with them. I’m not saying you didn’t hear what you thought you heard, I’m just saying that as far as I know, no one else ever has.”

  Immediately, this phrase pokes the rebel I have living somewhere inside of me. It also stokes curiosity. Maybe my weird ability has something to do with whatever the Healers are concerned about. If I can figure it out before that solution is necessary, even better. Then no one will have to make a decision they don’t want to.

  I grin and lift my chin. “Just because it hasn’t been done before doesn’t mean it’s impossible. I’m going to figure it out.”

  “Mr. Qureshi won’t let you anywhere near those Twisted students.”

  “So I’ll go find the one I keep running into.” I cross my arms. “Or just wait for him to come to me. Because that’s definitely a thing.”

  Kaz leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Then he rubs his chin and drags a hand over his face. “I’ll help.”

  I’m so shocked I lose my balance a little. “No way, seriously?”

  With a nod, Kaz stands. “I know there’s no way I can talk you out of it, and this isn’t something you should do alone. And since I know you probably won’t ask anyone else because they can’t defend themselves, like Rafe,” he lifts a brow, “I’m your best option.”

  I trace the scar on my upper lip and consider his offer. In spite of his honesty a few nights ago, and the fact that he saved my butt from getting sucked into the Twisted Ghost’s orbit, I still don’t know that I trust him. That’s not fair — as far as I know I could have a very similar past to his — but I’d be dumb not to keep my guard up.

  Still, he is right, I do need help.

  Extending a hand, I shake his. “Okay, you got yourself a deal. Let’s go find this ghost haunting ghost.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Inspired by the insane goal of attempting to track down an unruly and very dangerous polter-ghost, I train extra hard in combat class. After our make out session in the woods, physical contact with Rafe — or whatever we call it in ghost form — is much more intense. I’m relieved whenever Coach Richards has us practicing with pads today rather than chokeholds
.

  I level a punch at the black tomb-shaped pad. Rafe, who’s holding his arms out to the side, lets it swing backward and grunts. “All that training with Kaz is beefing you up.” He winks and I giggle.

  Flexing a little, I pretend to brush off my shoulders. “Yeah, I am pretty tough.” I snort and throw another punch. “After that incident in the woods I figured I needed to step things up a little.”

  Rafe resets, aligning the pad with his shoulder. “Who would’ve thought we’d be scared for our lives, or uh, safety after dying, right?”

  “It’s weird.” I shake out my hand, then attack again. “And has me thinking about what actually happens to ghosts when their bones are burned. Everyone’s describing them as getting twisted because they’re not able to communicate anymore. Well, apart from screaming. But what if it’s more complicated than that?”

  “How do you mean?”

  I purse my lips, mulling my theory over for a few more punches. “What if it’s like they’re locked in their pain and can’t get out of it? So they’re still in there but hurting so bad that they can’t think. I don’t know, I don’t have the theory fully fleshed out.”

  “No, that makes sense.” Rafe rotates his shoulder a little, then lifts the pad again. “Which might mean that if we could take the pain away they might go back to the way they were.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You’d think a Healer would have tried that.”

  “Maybe they have, but it hasn’t worked because they can’t find the main source of...hurt.” I snicker. “That sounded super eloquent.”

  Rafe smirks. “Sounded better than how I would have put it. And it makes sense, especially if they can only communicate in screams.”

  “So the question is,” I grunt when the pad buckles and pinches my knuckles, “how do we figure out how to ease their pain enough for them to be able to communicate?”