by Kasi Blake
Bay-Lee stepped into the glass elevator with Tessa a step behind her. She kept her mouth shut while the other girl told the computer they were headed for the seventh floor. The tube ascended with a slow and smooth flow, no sudden jerks. It glided, if that was possible. Did elevators glide?
Bay-Lee gasped at the sight of the first rotating level above them. She’d forgotten the top floors moved at regular intervals. The level above stopped moving with the same sound a semi makes when it breaks. For a moment they were caught in the space between levels. She pressed closer to the glass and stared at the floor above them. There were dark spaces between the narrow intersecting hallways. It reminded her of her second grade art class, the day they’d been asked to cut out snowflakes. The hallways above her head looked like snowflake cut-outs against a black velvet sky, luminous white and glowing.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
Tessa pointed at the odd shapes that seemed to float in the air. “Those are the classrooms. When students are inside the whole thing turns to lock us in. The doors disappear, Bertram Van Helsing’s idea. I read one of his journals for extra credit in Ancient History last year. He wanted to make sure enemies couldn’t attack students while they were busy learning. The man was brilliant, centuries ahead of technology.”
Instead of being square or rectangular, the rooms were strange shapes that didn’t have a name, at least not ones that Bay-Lee knew. They reminded her of shapes she’d seen in a Geometry book once. She placed the flat of her hand against the cool glass as they rose through the ceiling. Several hallways presented themselves. The elevator asked, “Destination?”
Tessa replied, “Room 613.”
The elevator turned, passing three openings before settling on one. Tessa immediately disembarked while humming a tuneless melody and Bay-Lee followed, mesmerized by everything she saw. The hallway was a long chute with a single room on the end, painted beige and too narrow for people to walk beside each other. Bay-Lee dragged her hands along the walls, feeling claustrophobic. Neither of them spoke until they were in the classroom.
They stopped just inside the open doorway, and Bay-Lee cringed at the strong smell of incense. The octagon-shaped room was huge with stairs descending to a small space at the bottom where a podium waited for the teacher. A whiteboard hung on the wall behind the podium, taking up most of the wall. There were weapon displays, swords and daggers on the sides of the board. Rows of tables on each side of the classroom were separated by stairs, one on each level. Several students were in their seats, waiting for class to begin.
“You are going to love Maxx, the instructor,” Tessa said. “Everyone does. He is part magician and part clown. He teaches a lot of classes like Mythology, Poisons, Magical Spells, and Survival Training, but he doesn’t just lecture. There are cool demonstrations and we do hands-on stuff a lot. Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it.”
Tessa went down two steps before choosing an empty table on the left. She sat on the far end so Bay-Lee took the seat next to her. There was an open notebook, three pens, and a glass of water at each place. Bay-Lee said, “I still don’t understand how this works. At Orientation they told us we’d be doing an Independent Study. This is the only class I have on my list for the whole day. What am I supposed to do with the rest of my time?”
Her insides twisted into painful knots, hating the feeling of being out of control. If she at least knew what was going on, what was expected of her, she could get her act together.
“Don’t sweat it,” Tessa said. “You haven’t gotten your books yet. They should arrive later today. Van has them sent to our dorm rooms. Then it’s up to you to study. Read the first chapter in each textbook, do the exercises, and take the test.”
“Who gives me the test?”
“No one.” Tessa grinned. “You just take it. We’re on the honor system here. No one cheats because the instructors can tell when you go to them for finals. The teachers can ask you anything out of the whole book on your final exams. They might give you a thirty page written test, or they might just ask you some questions, or they could have you do an extensive ten page summary on what you learned. Some of them even ask you to do a demonstration.”
Sounded complicated.
A student at the table above them shouted, “Boo!”
Tessa jumped in her seat, and laughter rippled throughout the classroom. Bay-Lee turned to glare at the jerk, but his eyes were on Tessa. He asked, “Hey, do you see dead people?”
Tessa’s cheeks flamed to life. Jaw tight, she didn’t respond. More laughter skittered across the room, and the girl’s eyes watered. Bay-Lee silently prayed Tessa wouldn’t break down in front of everyone. She reached out and placed a hand on the other girl’s arm.
“Ignore them,” Bay-Lee said. “My uncle told me bullies will leave you alone if you don’t play their game. And if that doesn’t work, you can always beat the crap out of them.” She frowned, rethinking the advice. It was probably against the rules to fight another student. Because her mentor wasn’t doing his job, she was in the dark when it came to the rules. “Or... can we get kicked out for punching another student?”
Tessa shook her head. “Van Helsing expects a certain amount of fighting. We’re trained to kill monsters. He understands what comes with the territory, the anger, the fear, the depression. We need a way to unload so Van allows us to fight, but he only wants to see it happen his way. If you want to kick someone’s butt, you have to challenge them. A time is set for you to meet at the lake, and Van likes to have a referee there so he can make sure no one gets seriously hurt.”
“What if someone gets pissed off?” Bay-Lee had seen her share of fights over the years and none of them were planned in advance. “Do you get kicked out if you lose your cool and punch someone in the face?”
Keisha plopped down on the other side of her and said, “Why do I have the feeling you got somebody in mind already? Did I apologize for kicking you that first night?” She grinned. “It wasn’t my idea, you know. I was following orders.”
A trapdoor at the bottom of the room fell open and an eccentric looking man popped out, shooting a few feet in the air. The trapdoor snapped shut, and he landed safely on top of it. The classroom exploded in cheers and applause. Tessa leaned close to Bay-Lee and whispered, “I told you you’d love him. Isn’t he amazing? He never enters the class the same way twice.”
Maxx was tall and lean with a pale face and piercing blue eyes that glowed. This man had clocked a lot of time on the other side. His longish brown hair flipped this way and that, looking like it hadn’t seen a comb in at least a decade. Scraggly facial hair added to his homeless-person appearance. You couldn’t call it a beard or a moustache. There wasn’t enough hair to qualify for either.
He wore a flowing black cape over a white dress shirt and black trousers. The shirt was unbuttoned on top. In a theatrical move he performed a wide sweeping bow. The applause faded.
“Welcome, ravenous students!” He leaped onto the nearest table as he shouted with glee. “Are we ready to learn?” He paused, allowing time for them to cheer, but Bay-Lee sat still, feeling awkward. Maxx added, “Today we are going to ponder the question, how can we defeat a ghost when it is already dead?”
Tessa’s smile evaporated. The color drained from her face, and the pen shook in her trembling fingers. Had someone told Maxx about the ghost Tessa claimed to have seen or was it merely an unhappy coincidence?
The teacher went on to say, “Did you know there are a variety of ghosts on the other side? Get ready to make a list. Some names you will be familiar with, but others will shock you. Now, who wants to start us off? Can anyone name a type of ghost?”
“Poltergeist,” a girl yelled from the room’s center.
Maxx nodded. He jumped off the table and went to the whiteboard, blue marker in hand. He scrawled the word in big, flowing letters. Then he moved to the podium. “A poltergeist is
the ghost of a child, usually a murdered one, but that isn’t always the case. Unlike other creatures in the Spirit Realm, ghosts can cross over whenever they please. Strong emotions from our side seep into their side and draw them here, opening a doorway. A poltergeist will cross over for an angry, bitter, or deeply disturbed child. Now, can anyone tell me what powers a poltergeist possesses?”
Bay-Lee wrote fast, trying to keep up with the instructor. She was already learning new stuff. So far this was the most interesting class she’d ever attended.
A boy behind her answered the teacher. “They can move things.”
“Gold star for Mr. Brevis.” Maxx wrote telekinesis on the board. “They feed off the child’s anger or sadness, whichever the case, and they use the power to move things. Destruction is their primary goal. Poltergeists love to smash and break things. Usually the child gets blamed for it. Then the kid grows angrier. The poltergeist gets more power. More things are broken. It’s a vicious cycle.”
Bay-Lee raised her hand. Keisha looked startled, and Tessa’s jaw dropped. Tessa grabbed Bay-Lee’s hand and pushed it down to the table as she shook her head and whispered, “We don’t raise our hands at this school. If you have something to say, say it.”
That went against everything Bay-Lee had been taught. Teachers didn’t like it when you spoke without permission. Tessa gestured for her to do it, and Keisha nodded in agreement. What if they were trying to get her into trouble?
Bay-Lee took a deep breath and a leap of faith. After clearing her throat she spoke in a loud, clear voice. “How does a person get rid of a poltergeist?”
Several pairs of eyes swung in her direction, and she feared she’d made a horrible mistake. The instructor stared at her in silence. For a long, dormant moment she was trapped in a waking nightmare. Her cheeks caught fire. She wished a hole would open up beneath her and swallow her.
A slow smile stretched Maxx’s lips. “Before I tell you what you want to know, I would like to welcome you to the school, Ms. Van Helsing. I’ve been looking forward to your arrival for years. Now to answer your question, poltergeists go away as soon as the child is dealt with. Therapy is a good start. Or a parent could deal with the issues bothering the child. Once the child’s anger or sadness disappears, so does the ghost.”
Maxx returned to the whiteboard and all eyes followed him. Bay-Lee realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it out in a slow quiet stream, and her cheeks stopped burning.
“Who can name another type of ghost?” Maxx asked.
Keisha spoke with a triumphant smile on her face. “Vengeful spirit.”
“Ah yes, one of my favorites. Thank you, Ms. Townsend.” He wrote it on the board. “A vengeful spirit is born when someone is brutally murdered or dies in an accident because of someone else’s carelessness. They want vengeance, hence the name. Their powers are much the same as a poltergeist, only they don’t need someone else to feed them. Their power comes from their own anger. They want to kill the person or persons responsible for their death. After they get what they want they cross back over to the Realm.”
Bay-Lee filled her first sheet of paper with knowledge and eagerly flipped to the second page.
Maxx shouted in excitement, “Give me another!”
“Wraith,” a student called out.
“Good. Good.” Maxx swept a hand at the board and the word appeared as if by magic. Students cheered. “Can anyone tell me about wraiths?” he asked.
A disturbing quiet fell on the room. No one said a word. Bay-Lee wished she knew the answer. She had no idea what a wraith was or what they were capable of doing. The instructor enlightened them all with a knowing smirk.
“A wraith is a ghostly slave.” He paused for effect. “They are extremely rare, even in stories, because only someone with great power can create them. You see, a powerful witch would have to do a spell that brings the wraith to this side. Usually someone would do this because they want revenge. They can send the thing after anyone they want. The trick is to make sure you have enough power. Above all else the wraith wants to kill its master. These things are as angry as vengeful spirits, but they don’t have the control. They are dead assassins.”
Bay-Lee considered her plan for revenge. Training would take years. It would be so much faster if she could send a wraith after the wolf pack. Too bad she didn’t have the power to do it.
Maxx admitted, “I’ve never seen a wraith, nor have I heard of anyone else spotting one. It is entirely possible they are myth. Not everything you hear about is real. But if the rumors are true they are easy to dispatch. They have to become solid to attack so they can be beheaded or smashed or a multitude of other things. Once they fail to kill their target they return to the other side. No harm, no foul.”
He asked for another type of ghost.
“Banshee,” Tessa said in a loud voice.
Keisha grinned.
Bay-Lee looked at Tessa and noticed the color in her cheeks. She’d scribbled a few notes, filling half a page. Perhaps she’d even put aside her plan to leave school. Bay-Lee smiled and returned her attention to the teacher.
After adding the word to the growing list Maxx asked, “Can anyone tell me about Banshees?”
The boy who’d made fun of Tessa earlier said, “I can. They are smoking hot.” Some of the kids laughed. He grinned and high-fived one of his buddies. “They have long hair and huge eyes and hard bodies. I’d love to take one of them on, if you know what I mean.”
Maxx gestured for him to stop talking. “Yes, Mr. Markham, we get it. You like the ladies.”
More laughter.
“But there’s more to them than their legendary beauty.” Maxx paced the short length of available floor behind the podium. Clasping hands behind his back, he said, “Banshees are beautiful women as Mr. Markham pointed out, but what he didn’t tell you is how they became Banshees in the first place. These women were in love with death. They courted it.”
“How do you court death?” someone asked.
“Simple. You read about it, think about it, fantasize about it. These women were unhappy with their lot in life, so they killed themselves because they believed death would be a soothing place. Unfortunately, it is not. Some say you can hear a Banshee crying in the distance when someone is about to die. These women often return to haunt their own families. They refuse to go on to their final reward, choosing instead to wander the Spirit Realm forever. Unlike the other ghosts we’ve talked about, they prefer to stay in the Realm. When they return to our side, it is only in passing. They make brief visits when someone from their past is going to die, usually a family member.” He smacked his hands together once. “Name another.”
Bay-Lee hadn’t known there were so many types of ghosts. Her mind went blank. For the millionth time she wished Van had taught her more than just combat.
“Death omen,” someone said.
“They are also called death apparitions. These people usually return to warn a loved one of impending doom. For the most part they are ignored. A person sees them, gets scared, and runs away. They are not taken as seriously as other spirits because they are not dangerous. You don’t have to get rid of them. They don’t come back after their warning is either heeded or ignored. We have one more ghost to name. Can anyone tell me what it is?”
Silence.
Maxx did a quick spin in the center of the floor, showing off. He lifted his hands. Small sparks of fire ignited from the tips of his fingers. Applause thundered in the room. When the tiny flames died, he gave them the answer. “Reapers. I know no one considers them to be ghosts, but they are. They were human once, most of them. Then they died and were employed to cross over the souls of others.”
Anxious, Bay-Lee almost raised her hand again. It lifted off the table a few inches. She quickly put it down and asked, “Is there any way to destroy a reaper?”
“Ms. Van Helsing, you d
o ask the hard questions.” He shook his head at her in awe. “Why would anyone want to kill such a magnificent creature, child?”
Bay-Lee stiffened at the condescending tone and the insulting endearment. She was sick of people talking to her like she was a five-year-old. Because he was a teacher and she wasn’t allowed to be disrespectful, she tightened her jaw until it hurt instead of mouthing off to him.
Maxx added, “They do, after all, serve the greater purpose. Without their help I dare say most of the souls would be torn apart by werewolves while trying to cross the Realm.”
Werewolves? An icy shiver shook her spine. The very word made her sick to her stomach.
“They can only be destroyed by another reaper,” Maxx added. “Problem is reapers have their own territory, so it’s quite rare for more than one to be in the same place at the same time. Reapers can also banish each other to the Realm if they meet up and don’t like each other, but like I said that almost never happens.”
Tessa whispered in Bay-Lee’s ear. “Do you think my mom was here to warn me? Could she be a death omen?”
Good question.
Chapter Nine
THE DEAL