by Rain Oxford
“Overextending yourself will not get the results you seek,” Hunt said. “Do you need help?”
“I miss the libraries of Quintessence.”
“You need to do research?”
“Out of books? God no. That’s Darwin’s part of the job. Speaking of which, I should pay him. I can’t really talk to you about it because Remy doesn’t want you involved.”
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“Well, do you know Eugene Cecil Greenwood?”
I didn’t have to read his mind; I could see the answer on his face. “No,” he lied.
“Okay. Let’s get started then.”
“Like last time, you need to relax and put yourself into a meditative state. Today, you will acknowledge what is holding you back.”
“That sounds like fun. I thought that was what we already did.”
“Focus on what you believe your weaknesses are. Do exactly like you did the first time. Instead of your magic, however, you are going to see all that is inside you.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“You will figure it out.”
I sat on my bed, closed my eyes, and tried to relax. I felt my magic easily, and I felt the connection to Rocky. I pushed those aside and focused on my weaknesses. Nothing popped into mind, so I had to come up with it on my own. I started with anger. I used to hate vampires because of what Astrid did.
Then Rocky pushed memories into my mind of the last few years. I saw how I responded to arguments between my friends and other people as well as between myself and enemies. Even when the council attacked the school, I wasn’t overwhelmed with anger.
I realized that although I held grudges, my anger was never inappropriate since I forgave Astrid. Anger wasn’t my problem. I was, however, too quick to jump into a situation to help someone. I needed to think more. Regarding an investigation, I planned everything out and only veered from the plan when I was following my instincts. On the other hand, when I saw a chance to help my friends, I was impulsive.
Rocky wasn’t done, though. She showed me the magic I had used over the years. From that, I learned that I didn’t believe in wizardry like others did. I used potions, but other than that, I rarely did magic that wasn’t my mind control, visions, or instincts. Furthermore, when I did use wizard magic, it was usually fire or magically unlocking something. That made me very predictable to anyone who could counter my psychic magic.
Jamie and Jason could become a dangerous threat to me in a few years if they tried, because they wouldn’t rely solely on those abilities. I needed to use the magic I learned at Quintessence.
* * *
I was having a vision/dream that was especially disorienting because I was traveling with impaired visibility. After a few minutes, I realized I was seeing through another person’s eyes as he reached up to lower his hood.
He was in a hallway of the Center. It wasn’t until he stopped at a door and I saw the name plate that I knew exactly where he was; he was in front of Remington’s room. He pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and crept inside. Only the barest sliver of moonlight from the gap in the curtain illuminated the room.
He shut the door behind him. Remy’s eyes popped open and she reached for the gun under her pillow, but it was too late. A dagger shot through the air and stopped a hair’s breadth from her throat. She froze.
“Who are you?” she asked.
The man approached, stopping close enough to hit her. “You don’t even recognize a member of your own staff?” Irritation dripped from his voice and the blade touched her throat.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Your father killed my brother.”
* * *
Tuesday, August 30
At breakfast, I sat with Darwin and Amelia. Henry, Scott, and Addison were sitting elsewhere. I was surprised to see Darwin soaking wet from a shower. “Did you get up late?” I asked.
“Haven’t been to bed. The library was locked, so I ran over to a town about a hundred and twenty-five kilometers west, where a packmate of mine lives. I used his computer to do some research.”
“I thought your pack all live at your father’s mansion.”
“No, we’re more like Stephen’s coven; the core members of the pack live on our homeland, but Dad’s territory is massive. Those outside the homeland are still loyal to my dad and have his protection. They’re the first line of defense and the alarm system if any outsider wolves enter our grounds.”
“But other shifters are allowed.”
“Sure. Cat shifters and such aren’t a problem as long as they don’t challenge us. Amy, can you leave us alone to talk?”
“Sure,” she said easily. She grabbed her plate and cup, kissed Darwin’s cheek, and walked away. It would never occur to her not to trust Darwin, because that was the kind of woman she was.
“So, are we in the presence of the living-and-breathing-challenged?” Darwin asked.
“I’m pretty sure that’s rude.”
“Have you met me?”
“Yes, there is a ghost over by Marian. I know that because she keeps berating her and no one is paying her any attention. Other than that, I can’t really tell. A few of them I don’t recognize from orientation, but that doesn’t mean they’re ghosts. I kind of wish I could sense them again, so I know who’s alive and who isn’t.”
“That’s disturbing. I’d hate to get in an argument with someone in front of everyone only to realize they’re just a bag of boo. That being said, ghosts can’t put a student in a sleep curse.”
“They can’t? You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. In fact, regular ghosts can’t do magic at all. They can influence people, move things, and such, but even wizards lose their magic when they die. Now, there are a few creatures that feed on the life-force of children, but it takes place over a matter of months, and the kids die in the end, so I don’t think that fits either.”
“Maybe this is an extreme form of that.”
“There would be signs, just like magic. One such creature bites the neck, like vampires, so there would be a mark. It’s circular with ten needle-like punctures and leaves a rash. It can be mistaken for Lyme disease. They feed on the child ten times, and each time, the child gets weaker and weaker. There is another creature that doesn’t leave a mark on the child but on the child’s bed to warn others of his kind that he’s already taken. He returns every month on the full moon for a year. Again, each time, the child gets weaker. On the twelfth month, the kid dies. Most of these creatures either take months or they steal the child altogether.”
“That’s pretty disturbing.”
“Yeah, you’ve only really seen the glittery, rainbow side of the paranormal world.”
“I’ve killed people and fought demons.”
“That’s what I said. We’re teachers now; get ready for some real bloodshed. You know why the classic horror flicks always involve children?”
“Because people are more afraid of their children being in danger than themselves.”
“No, bro, it’s because the really creepy shit always involves children. For example, most magical monsters can’t make an adult commit murder unless he was already prone to it, but they can make a child do it.”
“That doesn’t help solve the case.”
“Well, if Eugene is a regular ghost, I don’t think he could have done this, at least not alone. That being said, if he were alive, I would say it was very possible that he was behind it.”
“You found out about him?”
“Yes. He died almost a century ago, but he was a real shit. He kidnapped and killed more than fifty people. At least forty of them were children. A wizard killed him, but nobody knew the name. Records weren’t as good then as they are now. A hundred years ago, there were still issues between paranormals. Interspecies marriage wasn’t even legal until 1949. But that’s just history. Her-story is much more interesting. Anyway, you can’t trust anything older than a few decades writte
n about a wizard from a different paranormal or vice versa.”
* * *
I went to the infirmary and found Dr. Martin reading out of a book while mixing a substance in a metal can. He wasn’t touching the book or the metal can, though; they were floating in midair.
Aside from the three students in comas, there was also a student sitting on a chair beside him. Franklin was a fourteen-year-old whose father was a wizard teacher at the school and whose mother was a wolf shifter. His knees were covered in mud, his hands were scraped, and he had a black eye.
“Did you get in a fight?” I asked.
“I accidentally told my girlfriend she was getting fat.”
“Ah. Dr. Martin, has there been any change?”
“Not yet, and I still haven’t found a cause. I know it wasn’t anything they ingested. Yes, they did take the healing potions, and Kat took a sleeping potion, but I have determined that none of them have anything to do with the comas. Turner is pretty good at making potions, but the potions he made weren’t great. If he ever wakes up, he should learn new ones.”
“He’s going to wake up. Have you examined them for any marks?”
“I have, and I’m a little surprised you are just asking now.”
“I’ve been in the paranormal community for two years. I’m still learning. I expect you to tell me if you see anything strange.”
“I have found something, but I don’t know that it’s a clue.” He walked over to Kat and lifted her left hand to show me her palm. “This explains why she needed the healing potion.”
On her palm was a long, nasty scar. “I see what you mean about the healing potion not being great. That was self-inflicted, but not meant to kill.”
“Impressive that you can tell,” he said. “It doesn’t show hesitation like what someone would normally see in a child’s self-inflicted injury. It was like it didn’t hurt her at all.”
“Doesn’t that indicate some kind of ritual?”
“It could.”
“What kind of ritual requires blood or cutting like that?”
“There are many. Numerous, really.”
I checked Turner’s and Patience’s hands. Turner had the same scar on his left hand, but Patience had one on her right hand. It also wasn’t angled the same. “It looks like someone else made this cut, but it could be that she’s left-handed.”
* * *
I was heading back to the library to talk to Eugene when I was intercepted by Mr. Grant, followed by Willow. I could tell by Grant’s glare and Willows wobbling chin that she was in trouble. “Mr. Sanders, just who I was looking for. I left my classroom to get coffee in between classes and returned to find Willow in my classroom and it destroyed.”
“Destroyed how?”
“All of the desks were smashed, the windows were smashed, and my walls were full of holes!”
“How did a sixteen-year-old girl manage that?” I asked.
“Ask her!”
“I didn’t do it,” she said.
“You were the only one there.” He turned his back to her. “She has caused thousands of dollars of damage. I recommend she be expelled.”
“I can’t go to school with humans,” she cried.
“If you didn’t do it, did you see who did?” I asked.
She nodded, but didn’t speak.
I released my power. I sensed Mr. Grant’s mind and learned that he was high-strung and unforgiving, but he honestly wanted to help kids. He felt betrayed and violated by the destruction of his “territory.” Willow’s mind was much gentler and kinder. She was scared and upset, but there was no malice or anger. There was no motive for destroying a classroom.
It was possible that a ghost made her do it, though.
“Who?” I asked.
“It was a kobold. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t respond.”
As she recalled the scene, I saw it clearly in her mind. The creature resembled an elf at first glance. It was super thin, forty-inches tall, and gray-skinned, with massive Yoda-ears and a long, pointed nose. I saw it cackle in a high-pitched voice and shoot energy-balls at the walls and windows.
“You should at least learn to lie better,” Mr. Grant said.
“Can you prove that she did it?” I asked.
He gaped. “She was the only one in the room. No one else could have.”
“I don’t see how a sixteen-year-old girl without magic could do that. She’s innocent until proven guilty, so I’m not authorizing expulsion.”
“It’s your job to authorize it.”
“I know what my job is, and it’s not to expel a student based on suspicion. You can try Ms. Hunt, but she’s not going to be any quicker to jump to conclusions.”
“Willow is not coming back to my class!”
“Take it up with Ms. Hunt.” He grabbed Willow by the arm and stomped away. I opened the link to Darwin’s mind. “What’s a kobold?”
“That depends. There’s a Dungeons and Dragons kobold and a German folklore goblin called a kobold.”
I sent him the mental image of it.
“Ah. That’s the German version; the real deal. It looks like the household variety. They’re usually helpful unless someone pisses them off, but that’s normal for German household sprites.”
“Any relation to the goblin or imp that were seen by students?”
“Yeah; none of them have ever been proven to exist, even by paranormals. You hear about wizards living in their secluded cabins with helpful creatures, but there’s no documented proof of them.”
“Thanks.” I continued on the way to the library. When I got there, it was empty. “Ms. Sommerfeld?” I called. No answer. I walked over to the history section and called Eugene. After a few minutes, when he didn’t appear, I left.
I needed to learn more about ghosts.
I went to Mr. Grant’s classroom and saw that it was destroyed, just as the teacher said. Even the science and potion equipment was smashed. Eleven students were waiting in the hallway, confused. “Do you know where Mr. Grant is?” Sam asked.
“He’s having an issue with his classroom. Somebody get out a sheet of paper and write that I’ve taken you to the library.”
One of the students wrote the note and another had tape to put it on the door. I took them to the library and stayed with them, since Ms. Sommerfeld was still gone. I wouldn’t leave them alone with Eugene.
I was starting to get worried about the librarian. If I had identified her mind when I was near her, it would have been easy to find it in the school, but there were a lot of minds in the school I didn’t know and didn’t have time to shuffle through.
Ten minutes later, Mr. Grant arrived with Willow, and neither of them looked happy. I left without saying anything to him. I dropped in on Darwin’s class and saw the kids in three groups of four, playing math games with dice and score cards that looked like Sudoku.
Darwin was busy explaining something to one of the groups. I closed my eyes, inhaled slowly, and released the breath. As I did, I decided to see everything there was. In order to have control over myself and my powers, I had to know what was around me. I could get information from ghosts.
I opened my eyes. Everyone and everything was the same. “You okay?” Darwin asked, joining me.
“Yes. I was just hoping to see a dead person.”
“That’s quite a change.”
“I want to learn about them. I still think Eugene probably has something to do with the kids being in comas.”
“Ghosts can’t attach themselves to places or things unless those places or things are magical. You’ll find most of them following students or teachers around. This is a rare group of well-adjusted kids with no major deaths in the family.”
“What about Jack Michaels?”
“Wasn’t he angry about Baumwirt?”
“Yes, but she wasn’t in the classroom.”
“No. However, it is her place. It’s probably the closest thing she has to a home and where she spends most of her ti
me.”
“Does everyone become a ghost when they die?”
“No. At least, not likely. Most people who believe in ghosts believe that they only become ghosts when they die if they have unfinished business. There are also rituals in order to make someone a ghost when they die. It’s not a science, though; there are no definite answers. I hate that.”
“I agree. My job counts on definite answers. I was hoping that talking to a ghost would give me those answers.”
“They probably won’t have as many answers as you want. You can learn the extent of their powers, but asking them why they’re a ghost is the same as asking someone why they’re alive. Start with Cassie Love. I think she’s in Health right now. Weird things happen around her all the time.”
I went to the Health class. It was a beginner class, and they were learning to bandage wounds. To my surprise, there were not one but three ghosts. One was standing over a student, critiquing his work, one was arguing one-sidedly with Ms. Bounds, and one was sitting quietly with Cassie. The quiet one was only five or six, and she was soaked.
I waved to the little girl and she looked up at me. When I gestured for her to come to me, her eyes widened. After a moment, she stood and made her way around the tables to stand in front of me. “You can see me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Why? No one else can?”
“Do you know why you’re here?”
She nodded. “I’m dead.”
“Is there something you need to do or tell someone?”
“My sister…” She turned to stare at Cassie. “She blames herself for my death. It wasn’t her fault, though. Please tell her it wasn’t her fault.”
I nodded. “Her name is Cassie, right?” The ghost nodded. “Ms. Bounds, I need to talk to Cassie in the hallway for a minute.”
“Sure.”
Cassie got up and followed me out, confused. When I shut the door, she asked, “Am I in trouble?”
“No. I want to talk to you about your sister.”
She gasped.