by Imogen Rose
He shrugged.
Hard as I tried, I couldn’t tell what was being said through the soundproofed walls.
I put my lips to Jagger’s ear and whispered, “Can you hear that? The old woman?”
He shook his head. “In Mason’s room? I can’t hear a thing.”
“Yeah. I can make out three voices—Mason, his father, and an old lady. Like real old.” Really old ladies were a rarity at the Academy, so I couldn’t think of anyone to match the voice to as I went through the library of staff images in my head.
“Any idea who it could be?” Jagger asked. “I can’t think of any elderly ladies. Could it be Mason’s mom? His biological one?”
“You think? Maybe his grandma? I mean, I doubt his dad’s married to someone so old.” I wished I could knock on the door, but we’d been given very strict instructions not to approach Mason, just to let Frau Schmelder know when we found him. I got my cell out of my pocket and called her.
“Did you find Mason?” she asked.
“Yes, in his room with his dad and someone else, an old lady. Do you want us to bring him back to your office?” I asked hopefully.
“No. And what took you so long to get back to me? His room was first on the list.”
“Um…”
“Oh, never mind. Leave the area. If they are in his room, I fully expect them to come back to my office on their own. I suspect Mason is getting a talking to.”
“Certainly sounds like it. There is someone else in the room. Sounds like an old lady,” I said again.
“Oh? Any idea who she is?”
“No.”
“Hmm. Oh, well. Do as I say. I’ll figure this out.”
“What do you want Jagger and me to do now?”
“Go back to your scheduled activities. Check your iPads.”
“What about Faustine?”
“Quinn is with her. The two of you need to just get out of there now. Understood?”
“We have to leave,” I whispered to Jagger when she hung up.
“No way! I want to see who’s in the room.”
“Me too, but we can’t stay.” I pointed at the surveillance cameras and waved. The Smelt was sure to be watching us. In fact, she had probably been watching the room for a while, but I guessed Mason and his father hadn’t used the front door. They must have flown in, but what about the woman? Was she a shifter? I had to know.
“Oh, what the heck.” I walked over and knocked on Mason’s door before Jagger had a chance to stop me. The voices went silent instantly. I knocked again. No reply.
“They’re not going to open the door!” Jagger whispered.
I remembered his skill at unlocking doors from our Enrichment year when he’d even managed to break into The Smelt’s office. “Got your tools?”
He brought out his Victorinox knife and started fiddling with the lock. I heard a click, and in just moments, the door was open. I peered into the room over Jagger’s shoulder. A cold draft blew in through the open window, causing the papers on the desk to flicker. The room was empty of beings—no shifters or anyone else. I walked to the middle of the room and closed my eyes, breathing in all the different smells, gagging at the strong shifter reek. Something else—not a shifter—had been in there, but my olfactory senses weren’t sharp enough to identify the source. “Jagger, can you smell what else was in the room? I mean, apart from Mason and his father.”
He shook his head. “Nope, faeries don’t do the whole sniffer-dog thing. I’m guessing demons suck at it as well?”
“Yes, some more than others. I’m particularly poor at it. Oh well, looks like they took off out the window,” I said, looking out. They were long gone.
“So whoever was in here with them can fly as well or was flown out by them. Either Mason or his father could have handled that. Mason had no problem flying off with you, remember?”
“Not likely to ever forget.” That had been one of the worst experiences of my life—being held in Mason’s claws as he flew me over the St. Moritz peaks…and then dropped me. Ugh.
My phone rang, snapping me out of my reverie. I dreaded answering it, slowly gliding my fingers over the answer tab.
“Cordelia Hammer! Get to my office at once and bring Mr. Deveroux with you!” Frau Schmelder hung up.
I turned to Jagger. “Sorry, I’ll take the blame.”
“No need. Plus she’ll have seen me do the lock.” He grinned.
We walked back to The Smelt’s office in silence, with me mostly wondering if she’d have us turned into rodents. That would suck. I also kept trying to figure out who’d been in the room with Mason and his father. I was still coming up blank when we rapped on The Smelt’s door.
“Come in!”
Jagger opened the door and held it, allowing me to walk past him and into the room. I stopped short and gasped when I noticed Mason—in his male form—and his father sitting on the couch facing Frau Schmelder’s desk.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Come in and sit down,” she said, shaking her head.
I perched on the stool by the door again, and Jagger stood next to me.
“Mason and his father just returned,” The Smelt said.
The office seemed to be back to normal, everything in its place. The books were back in the bookcase, and the desk was neat and tidy. Professor Bern must have helped clean up, using a bit of her magic. I wondered why she wasn’t here.
“Mason has apologized for flying off, and I’m glad that Monsieur Drasco brought him back here.”
I was absolutely dying to ask them who the woman in the room had been, but the firm squeeze from Jagger’s hand on my shoulder warned me to shush.
The Smelt smiled at M. Drasco. “Mason has agreed to cooperate, although he maintains that he had nothing to do with the note.”
Yeah. Right.
“So, I think we’re done here?” M. Drasco boomed. “Please don’t jump to conclusions in the future. Now, I must get back to Paris and some pressing matters over there. I shall walk Mason back to his room and then head off. It was less than the usual pleasure, Frau Schmelder. I hope to meet under more congenial circumstances next time.”
“Monsieur.” The Smelt nodded. Then she turned to Jagger. “Could you walk over with them, and then get Mason to his afternoon class?”
Jagger grimaced, but opened the door for Mason and his dad and followed them out.
Frau Schmelder glared at me. “Well?” she spat.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I had to know who was in the room with them.”
“And did you find out?”
“No. They didn’t answer the door, and by the time we got inside, they’d flown away.”
“And it didn’t occur to you that that’s exactly what would happen?” She raised her eyebrows and flared her nostrils. “I mean, it’s pretty apparent. Don’t you think? Or did you think they’d just stand and wait while you broke in and then offer you some tea?”
“When you put it like that—”
“Like what? I’m just stating the obvious.”
Sheesh—way to make me feel really stupid. And I guessed it had been a moronic move, but had the third person been unable to fly or be transported out that window—I mean, she did sound old—then I’d have found out who she was. I swallowed my pride and apologized again.
“Well, bygones,” The Smelt said. “And no harm done. M. Drasco didn’t know it was you knocking and that I had sent someone out to find Mason. He returned here voluntarily with Mason. And as far as this note is concerned, we have no proof that Mason wrote it or that he’s even involved.”
“I can’t think of anyone else, and considering what happened last year—”
“Yes. I know what you mean. I just said that we don’t have any proof. I still strongly believe that he’s involved. And you said there was someone else in the room?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t make out what kind of being. My sense of smell isn’t that great.”
“And the scent will probably be g
one by now, so there is probably no point in sending any of the Trackers down there.” The Trackers were The Smelt’s crack team of sniffer shifters. “But I will, just to make sure. They can have a sniff around when Mason heads off to his classes.”
“Good. Could it have been Mason’s mother? His biological one?”
“To be honest, I have no idea, Cordelia. There is no mention of her in the files at all. Why do you feel it’s important to know who it was?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s odd. If it was his mother, surely she’d have just come with the father?”
The Smelt shrugged. “Well, there is no surveillance footage of her coming in or out of Mason’s room. So she either made herself invisible or came through the window.”
“Or she could be a Wanderer,” I added.
“Yes, there is that. Professor Bern and I have discussed that possibility in relation to Mason. That is now something you’ll have to figure out through the remaining Initiation sessions with Mason. I hear that you’ve been down to the new dOME lab. Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Yes, very.”
She narrowed her eyes until they were tiny slits and glared at me again. “Then make sure not to do anything else that may impede your use of it and your apprenticeship with Professor Bern. Understood?”
I nodded and got up to leave.
“Wait. Sit down for a moment.” She held up her hand and stared at her phone. “A text. King Sebastian is here. Stay for this meeting.” She tapped her phone keys, and moments later, the door opened.
With movie-star swagger, Faustine’s father lit up the room with his dazzling smile as he walked over to Frau Smelt and took her hand. He kissed the back of it gallantly before sitting down on the couch next to me.
“Cordelia, lovely to see you,” he said. “So what’s up?” he asked The Smelt.
I watched his expression turn from easy charm to dark danger as Frau Schmelder recounted what had happened. He sat still, listening intently to every word, not once interrupting. His silence continued even after she’d stopped speaking. The three of us just sat while he digested the news. He finally stood up, appearing even taller than when he’d entered. Then he put both hands down on the corners of Frau Smelt’s desk and leaned toward her. I was on the ready to transform and intercede if he attacked her, but he just let out one long deep sigh and stepped back from the desk, running his fingers through his hair.
“How? How could you let this happen?” His voice cut through the air like a sharp knife. “What is Mason doing back here after everything that he did?” He sat back down and glared at Frau Smelt as she began to explain the various donations Mason’s father had made to the Academy, and how the trustees had decided that Mason should be allowed back.
He leaned forward, his legs planted wide and his nostrils flaring. That was as angry as I had ever seen him. Although he was obviously fuming, his tone was surprisingly soft when he spoke. “You know that I would have matched those contributions, had I known.”
“I do, and I’m so sorry that the rules prevented me from telling you. Even now, I’m breaking a confidence, but I feel it’s necessary for you to have the whole picture.”
“Thank you. I need you to keep Faustine safe while I try to find out what’s going on,” he said. “Are you able to do that, or shall I take Faustine home with me?”
“Well, that’s up to you. I can’t guarantee her safety under the present circumstances, though we’ll do our very best. I can’t have Mason removed until we have tangible proof. If you do decide to take her, we’ll keep her place open until it’s safe for her to return.”
He nodded. “Is Mason’s father still here? It may be worth talking to him before I make any decisions.”
“He just left.”
“Anything else? Have you told me absolutely everything?”
I coughed.
He looked at me, narrowing his eyes. “Cordelia?”
I glanced sideways at The Smelt. I didn’t know if she’d omitted it on purpose or if she’s just forgotten. Either way, I felt he needed to know before he decided to yank Faustine out of school. The issue might be wider than the confines of the school. It was perhaps even more dangerous to remove her and possibly expose her to even more danger. That woman in the room had felt…ominous. How? I didn’t know, but I felt a strong need to tell King Sebastian. “My apologies, if I’m overstepping,” I murmured to Frau Smelt.
“Carry on,” she said.
“I thought we should mention the old woman in Mason’s room.”
King Sebastian’s face immediately hardened, and his eyes bored into me. “An old woman?”
I told him what I had heard and smelled, watching his expression grow colder. I shuddered at the malevolence pouring out of him. “Do you know who it could have been?” I blurted.
“Think back to the scent, Cordelia. Analyze each nuance of it; try to tease it into individual threads.”
I imagined myself back in Mason’s room, trying to recall everything I had felt and smelled. I scrunched up my useless nose and shook my head, feeling awful for not being able to be more helpful.
Faustine’s father walked over and gently touched my shoulder. “Did you smell a demon? One of us?”
One of us? I hadn’t even considered that possibility. Why would a demon associate with the likes of Mason and his father? “A demon? The thought didn’t even occur to me. I had just assumed it was another shifter. Why would you ask that?”
King Sebastian’s face clouded over in a blank mask, his aura menacing. “Did you smell a demon in there?”
“No, but like I said, I’m pretty useless when it comes to olfactory tracking.”
“Were you by yourself?”
“No, Jagger was with me.”
“The faery? He won’t be much use either.” He turned to The Smelt, clearly frustrated. “What about the Trackers? Did you send them up there?”
“I was just about to,” Frau Smelt hurriedly assured him. “I’ll call them in now, if you wish.”
King Sebastian nodded and sat back down on the couch. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
I was desperate to ask him why he thought there was a possible demon presence, but I didn’t dare make a sound, instinctively knowing that King Sebastian was ready to kill. Plus, I was overcome by a horrendous stench. The Trackers had arrived.
I had never seen the Trackers before, just heard of them. They had attained legendary status at the Academy. They were bloodhound shifters. No one knew how many of them there were, or where they hung out or what they did when they weren’t busy tracking. I had imagined the team to be a pack headed by a fierce bloodhound. I anticipated quite a large group coming into the office, as I had heard Frau Schmelder ask for the team to come up.
So I was a bit disappointed to see just two of them walk into the room. I guessed we didn’t really need more than that. One would have been enough. The two who appeared were obviously shifters, but in their human forms, which were kind of blech, as Faustine would have said.
Both of them looked like strung out ex-rockers, reminding me a bit of Keith Richards. They were covered in black leather, which accentuated their scraggly, thin bodies. Enormous arched noses with flared nostrils dominated their sunken, gaunt faces. The noses were so overpowering that their small, blackened eyes were almost hidden in their tiny sockets. Both had shaped their hair into black, oily-looking Mohawks. They walked right up to Frau Schmelder’s desk, where they came to a halt and stood at attention.
“Thanks for coming up so promptly. Please take a seat for the moment.”
As they walked over to the chairs beside The Smelt’s conference table, she turned to Faustine’s dad. “I need to make sure that Mason is out of his room before I send the Trackers up there. Although I’m happy to send them, their value will be limited. Whoever was in the room is long since gone, but hopefully, the Trackers will be able to tell you at least what kind of paranormal it was. Chances are that Cordelia is mistaken in thinking that the v
oice belonged to an old lady. It could have just been Mason in his female form.”
I shook my head vehemently. “No, it definitely wasn’t Mason’s voice. I’d have recognized it. Besides, I could hear Mason; he was in his male form. I could also hear his father. This was a third voice, definitely a woman, and she sounded old.”
“There’s only one way to find out for sure,” King Sebastian said, rising from the couch. “Let’s go and find out.”
The Smelt gaped at him. “We’ll send the Trackers. There’s no need for you to go, Your Majesty.”
“I’d like to smell it for myself,” he said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. There shouldn’t be anyone around in the dorms at this hour, but entering the shifter wing could be unwise.”
“Unwise?”
“If you go up there, Mason may be able to tell that you’ve been in his room. His olfactory senses are very well developed.”
“So?”
“Well, he already has an issue with Faustine, and knowing you’ve been up there may rankle him into further mischief.”
“Perhaps. Although I highly doubt he’ll know it was me. Cordelia and Jagger have already been in his room, correct?”
I nodded.
“That was unwise,” he said as The Smelt threw me a told-you-so look. “He’ll be able to recognize your scents, no doubt. He’s never met me, so that won’t be an issue. He’ll merely smell an unknown demon.”
“What about Mason’s father?” The Smelt asked. “Do you know Monsieur Drasco? Would he recognize your scent?”
“I have met him on a few occasions,” King Sebastian acknowledged.
“It’s very likely that Mason could ask his father to check out any unusual demon scents in his room, after what’s just happened,” The Smelt warned. “I would really prefer it if you remained uninvolved and let us handle it.”