Hawthorn Academy- Year Two

by D. R. Perry

  But there wasn't much time to worry about him. I worked hard, modifying lights in response to the shinier costumes. Everyone looked amazing, too. Grace had found an entire closet of forgotten costumes from Bubbe's school days and managed to alter them to fit everyone in record time.

  I lingered in the cafeteria all through dinner, but Crow was conspicuously absent, along with Grace. I got a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Was this how Izzy felt when she had a premonition? Grace had never mentioned a date for the dance. I asked all our mutual friends, but they were clueless.

  When I finally got the chance to ask, Grace said she hadn't decided yet.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  I read through some of Great Uncle Noah's letters in my free time. Almost all of them were love letters addressed to his boyfriend, a guy named Bert. They were cozily romantic, something I hadn't seen in fact or fiction before. My great uncle's love story was sweet and emotional, without any mention of sex. For some strange reason, it gave me hope that I might live my own someday.

  I haunted the cafeteria and the lounge by the café, still trying to make good on my promise about Crow. Dorian dragged me away on Thursday night, insisting now was the time to tell his story. When I walked toward the empty academic wing, he paled.

  "Anywhere but there."

  "Okay." I steered him toward the stairs. "Why?"

  "You'll know soon enough."

  He knocked on his own door, which puzzled me at first, but when Eston emerged with Kitty, I understood. They giggled, and Eston's glasses were a little foggy.

  "Hmm." Kitty glanced at us, then giggled again. "We have good timing."

  "Oh yeah, we do." Eston grinned, pushing the door open wider and stepping into the hall so we could get through. "Have fun."

  "Thanks." Dorian caught the door. "But we're studying, hardly fun."

  The pair laughed, leaning on each other as they headed down the hall. Kitty looked back at my empty hands and called, "Don't forget your books, then!"

  "It's not like that." I hung my head, hiding in my hair.

  "Maybe we shouldn't go in there." Dorian sighed. "We don't want to start rumors."

  "Too late. You already said we're studying, and this conversation is long overdue." I stepped across the threshold. "Anyway, you're courting Logan. Maybe they think this is for advice or a pep talk."

  "Maybe."

  He closed the door, waited for me to have a seat, and told me everything he'd overheard. When he finished, he sat. I got up and paced.

  "So, there's good news and bad news, Dorian."

  "Good first."

  "We know who one of those people was."

  "What's the bad news?"

  "Confronting her won't work. She's a chronic liar, and you can't believe a word she says."

  "Who is she?" Dorian shrugged. "I've got nothing."

  "Temperance Fairbanks."

  "How do you know?"

  "Something she said to Faith about having a secret boyfriend, who she, um, likes better than Alex."

  "That part fits." Dorian nodded. "And the guy wasn't Alex because everyone talked about how you fought in the lobby that day."

  "It has to be a Bishop's Row player,” I said. “Because of the point-set-match thing."

  "Yeah, and a magus because of all the bigotry. So, how do we find him?"

  "Process of elimination, and maybe a little research. He's a jock and he's straight, so it isn't Noah, but more than half the school tried out for our team. How do we narrow it down more without Tempe noticing?"

  "Coach Pickman has me on filing duty because of my medical thing." Dorian grinned. "I could peek at the student files."

  I stopped my pacing, turning to face him. He tugged on his collar and cleared his throat. Was he paler than usual? Bonier? More tired?

  "You haven't mentioned that for a while. Are you okay? You look pale."

  "Uh, it's only life-threatening without treatment. Basically, I have to wear, um, things that make it harder to do sports."

  "That doesn't sound good. Can I help?"

  "You already do every day." He let out a robotic-sounding laugh and tugged his collar again. “I’m only pale from skipping my veggies.”

  Go on. Ask again. Pry like he’s an oyster.

  I didn't. This was Dorian's circus and his monkeys. I'd give him the same respect I'd given Hal and let him talk about it when and if he wanted to.

  "Thanks for the chat and the help, Dorian."

  "Don't mention it. Literally." His shoulders eased. "And now I'm exhausted."

  "See you tomorrow, then."

  "Yeah. See you."

  I left and headed toward my room to get ready for bed, refocusing my mind on finding Temperance's secret boyfriend. But I still said a prayer for Dorian Spanos, hoping he didn't have a debilitating condition like Hal's. He'd seen enough tragedy in his life.

  I had the best seat in the house for the talent show, an unexpected benefit of the light booth. Everybody was amazing. I could hardly believe those were my friends and family. Yes, I said family because of Noah’s band, Piercing Whispers.

  The first act was Dorian's stand-up comedy. His routine lampooned ice, snow, and made popular culture references. I giggled through the entire thing, but not because the jokes were particularly innovative. Dorian had amazing comedic timing, and his delivery was spot on.

  Next the curtain opened on Bar and Crow, dressed in garb that would fit right in at King Richard’s Faire. Their stage combat routine had the audience gasping, whistling, and applauding. Bar threw glamour in there, but only to make sparks when their weapons clashed. I didn't know much about that particular performance art, but the routine made me want to give it a try.

  After that came Izzy’s and Jonah's ballroom dance routine. I expected a cha-cha, or maybe merengue, Izzy's favorite. Instead, they walked out dressed like Gomez and Morticia Adams and danced to Vampire Club by Voltaire, a Boston local musician who'd performed in Goth clubs and fan conventions since before I was born.

  The fourth act was Piercing Whispers. I knew every one of the band's members. Elanor played keyboards and shared vocals with Noah, who played bass. Dylan rocked out on a brand new guitar in his favorite color, blue.

  Where did he get the money for that? Even the Lyceum can’t pay that well.

  Behind them at the drum set sat the last person I expected. Arick Magnuson. His bookwyrm Skinner was coiled on his head like a beanie that bounced to the beat.

  The other familiars all had some part in the performance. Gale swooped back and forth over the band, dropping glittering bits of ice. Elanor's phoenix FiFi backlit them. Noah's serpent Lotan sat atop Elanor's keyboard, swaying like a metronome. They played one of my favorite classic rock songs ever.

  I'm talking about The Chain by Fleetwood Mac. Its music and lyrics had always hooked me because it reminded me of those moments right before disaster, like when a plate tilts against the edge of the table and you move to grab it. Will you catch it in time? Will it break to bits on the floor?

  It had played in my room the summer before middle school when Cadence almost ran away from home. She came to me first, insisting I had to help her get to Boston Harbor. She planned to catch a transatlantic liner so she could jump off in open water and meet the undersea family her parents had left behind.

  I called Izzy immediately and we'd talked her out of it, promising to stay friends forever. Since then, The Chain reminded me that our connections had real power. We could make a difference to the people in our lives and keep them from shattering on the floor just by loving them before they fell.

  It doesn't make a difference to Dylan.

  "I didn't ask you." I didn't have to suppress my outside voice alone inside the lighting booth.

  Peace is practically a foreign country for you right now.

  "This too shall pass. Along with you, hopefully."

  You're arguing with me now?

  "No, but maybe it's time we had a little chat." I brought the house ligh
ts up for intermission.

  The moment this show is over, you'll be back in that mess with them. If I were you, I'd leave campus and never look back.

  "I'm not leaving with a mystery poisoner on campus. You're just a voice in my head. What do you know?"

  Plenty. And don't make assumptions about me or what I know.

  I chewed on that, not daring to utter a response. If the voice's implication was true, it either had its own sentience or an origin outside my own mind. In the case of the former, a mental health crisis was imminent. In the latter, I'd been invaded by something incorporeal with an unknown agenda. Either way, I couldn't handle it on my own. How many of my friends had I sent to get professional help? Why couldn't I take my own advice?

  You like having me around. I'm not all bad.

  "Okay, fine. You're helpful sometimes. Broken clocks are right twice a day."

  That's just incredibly rude. Perhaps I'll shut my figurative mouth indefinitely.

  "Wait."

  The voice made no response. Intermission had ended, so I dimmed the house lights. Backstage, the twins pulled the curtains, and I turned on the spotlight at center stage. Hal Hawkins wore a red satin tuxedo jacket with a white shirt and black tie. Faith stood behind him, smiling and waving, wearing a green and gold sequined gown slit to the knee. There was a box behind them on its side atop some sort of rolling frame. They began their magic show, not the extrahuman kind, but the illusionist type.

  Hal and Faith had an entire routine where he did most of the prestidigitation and she assisted. Scarves flowed endlessly from one of his pockets and then her hair, and linked rings joined and separated. He even pulled Seth and Nin out of a hat.

  Their finale involved the box, of course. Everyone expected him to make Faith disappear, and he did, for a moment. He opened the box the second time, but somehow they'd switched places, so she stood holding the lid while he climbed out of the box. After that, the pair bowed. I brought the lights down when the applause ended, which took a good bit of time. People had loved the twist ending.

  I looked down at my list, seeing there was only one act left to go: Cadence, with a vocal performance. At the dress rehearsal, she hadn't played the music or revealed the title of her selection, just gotten up on the stage in a majorette outfit and done a mic check.

  At first, I didn't recognize the opening bars of the music Elanor played. And yes, she was up there, a Hawthorn student providing backing music for one of the Gallows Hill students. We weren't supposed to collaborate since this was one event where the schools competed against each other, but that didn't matter because everyone forgot who was playing a moment later.

  When Cadence opened her mouth, singing about how she can't make him stay, I understood immediately what she was doing: using Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance to win the talent show and provoke her flaky ex-boyfriend, Crow. I saw him in the wings, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

  When she finished, even I stood up and applauded. The power of her performance lifted me from my seat, an unseen force but absolutely real. Cadence's voice worked a bit like psychic empathy when she sang but was a rare magical mermaid gift that mimicked mind magic when spoken. I moved under my own power. A mermaid's singing voice worked by inspiring latent emotions into action, like the ultimate motivational speaker. She'd affected the entire audience because they all stood to cheer.

  Other students joined Crow in the wings, and almost every one of them applauded. Bar stood there scratching his head. Changelings with strong enough glamour could resist Cadence's mojo. Something didn't sit well with him about her performance, but because I was affected, I had no idea what it was.

  I kept the stage lights up, and the rest of the performers came back on the stage. The judges in the front row, who consisted of performers from town, stepped up on the apron and handed a scorecard to Nurse Smith, who'd been the MC. He read each one, then held the tally sheet out in front of him.

  "Third place, The Chain by Piercing Whisper." A round of applause from the audience broke out, strong enough to demonstrate our home-team enthusiasm.

  "Second place, Vampire Club by Izzy and Jonah."

  More applause followed, heavier this time. It subsided as everyone waited to hear who won.

  "And the winner, Famous Last Words by Cadence."

  Had the Gallows Hill kids used megaphones? When I opened the door to check, the crowd was so loud I had to cover my ears. I guess Cadence's performance was its own kind of magic.

  Let's just hope no one accuses her of cheating.

  "Thought you were shutting your mouth?"

  "What's that?"

  I stepped back into the booth, hands covering my mouth and eyes widening as I stared into Alex Onassis's face. The skin under his eyes looked puffy and dark like he hadn't slept well in weeks, and he wore a full face of makeup. I almost mistook the bruise on his left cheekbone for a contouring effect. He stood in the doorway of my light booth, pulling a set of clunky noise-canceling headphones off. They weren't turned on.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Running the sound." He rolled his eyes. "And overhearing you talk to yourself."

  "Fine. But you hate me, so why are you here?" I gestured at the space between us.

  "Everyone's still whammied like she said they'd be." He gestured at the headphones. "Except me. I don't have much time. Watch out for Temperance. She's planning something horrible."

  "What is she going to do, Alex?"

  He reached toward the breast pocket in his blazer where his basilisk usually stayed, but she wasn't there. His eyes widened for a moment, but he caught himself and smoothed his expression.

  "She's been writing things down, stuff about where you and your friends go every day. Who’s on what team, which competition. And all the upcoming events."

  "How do we prepare?"

  He opened his mouth, but it closed almost immediately after. When he tried again, his lips moved, but no sound came out.

  "I can't say it." He bared his teeth, clenching his fists. "Dammit. Damn her."

  His eyes widened and he stepped back, pressing his hand against his left ear and sagging against his booth's doorway. Had something hurt him? Nothing and no one was present in the room except us and Ember, who still slept. Unless, somewhere, someone was hurting his familiar.

  "How did she do this to you?"

  "I can't say." He sucked in a breath. "I can't do this. Shouldn't have done any of it." He straightened shakily, then staggered out of my light booth, slamming the door behind him.

  I opened the door, intending to go after him, but by the time I did, the hallway was empty. I opened the sound booth and looked inside, but he wasn't there. When I went downstairs from the tech floor, the crowd was too thick. I'd lost him.

  "What did he mean?" I asked Ember, who'd woken up and was peeping insistently in my ear.

  She tugged my hair on my left side. I turned in that direction, only to find Temperance in the corner, grinning at me. Her grundylow peered out from behind her hair, eyes gleaming in the darkness.

  She doesn't even have to touch that boy to harm him. I told you to leave campus.

  In my head, I replied, My friends need me. I'm not going anywhere. I can't save anyone by abandoning them.

  That girl's got the look of a killer. Act soon.

  I hadn't feared her until that moment despite everything I heard Faith accuse her of over the orb, but now, Temperance Fairbanks terrified me.

  Chapter Forty

  I walked into the bathroom the night after the talent show. Faith swam laps in the pool, while Seth relaxed on a folded towel nearby. Ember glided down from my shoulder and sat beside him, curling her tail around her feet like a cat. I wasn't there to swim, so I stood where Faith could see me and waited.

  At the end of her next lap, she crossed her arms on the edge of the pool and stared up at me.

  "Is Temperance an extramagus? Specifically with mind magic?"

  "That's a lead-pipe level of blunt." Faith shook
water off her hand, then dragged it through her hair. "I don’t think so. Her water came in early, but that’s all I’ve seen her conjure."

  "How early?" I put my hands on my hips. "Uncle Richard's fire came in grade school. Mom says he got water the year after that."

  Faith sighed. "What gave you this idea?"

  I paced along the side of the pool, telling her what had happened in the light booth and right afterward.

  "Look, she’s terrifying, but you can't go around accusing a Fairbanks of being an unregistered extramagus. My parents are horrible too."

  "I don't want to poke the hornet's nest, but how else do you explain someone literally unable to talk like that?"

  "Tell me again what Alex said."

  "First he couldn't make a sound, and then it was 'I can't say it, I can't say' and he damned her. After that, he grabbed his ear and almost fell over."

  "Yeah, that sounds like magic.” She gripped the side of the pool, knuckles pale.

  "And his familiar wasn't with him."

  "That’s why he doesn’t dump her. If she's threatening his basilisk..." Faith slapped the water. "She's a monster."

  "That explains a lot, but not everything. It looked like compulsion."

  "I have one idea, but it’s out there. We should check other possibilities first, like faerie stuff. A vow or something."

  "I'll ask Cadence. She might not know, but she’ll know who does." I sighed. "Sorry for ruining your swim, Faith."

  "It's okay. It was important." Faith prepared to launch into a backstroke, but she stopped. "So's this. Tempe got her own room."

  "How do you know?"

  "Lena thanked me."

  I gave her a grin. "You rescued her."

  "Yeah, but I probably doomed Alex. When Temperance loses a victim, whoever's left suffers more."

  I shivered. "I'm sorry. Enjoy the rest of your swim, and try to have a good night."

  "You too."

  I left the bathroom and went to find Cadence. She was in the fourth-floor hall, headed for the restroom with a bucket of toiletries. We went in together, and she took a minute to wash and dry her face. Afterward, Cadence glanced at me in the mirror while unscrewing a jar of moisturizer.