The Truth Spell (Werewolf High Book 1)

by Anita Oh

  A noise had woken me up. I’d thought maybe it was my youngest brother, Hamish. He’d only been two years old then and full of trouble. I got up to see what he was into, but when I looked in on him, he’d been asleep. Everyone was asleep, everything was fine, so I headed back to bed.

  Sam’s bedroom window had faced mine. We were such a cliché, childhood best friends with their windows opposite. I never closed my curtains at night because Sam liked to leave messages for me when he woke up. Anyone could text, he said, but this was special, from him to me. But there was no message there that night. There was only blood.

  I rushed to the window, not sure what I was seeing. Was Sam playing a joke? If so, it was not funny. Something moved in Sam’s room, but everything was darkness and shadow and I couldn’t make it out.

  Then I heard the scream.

  It sounded like nothing on this earth. Nothing human. It made my blood run cold.

  I stood, unable to move, unable to do anything but look helplessly into the darkness. I felt as if my entire world was fading right before my eyes, and I didn’t know how or why.

  Out of the darkness, something flashed. A light, but no type of light I’d ever seen, a light that seemed somehow darker than the shadows. It sucked in the light around it, absorbing it, feeding on it. At the center of the light was a person. A massive person. Too big to be real.

  Something smashed within the depths of Sam’s house, and it spurred me to action. I ran. Out of my room, out of my house. To Sam. I was always running to Sam – running to get him out of trouble. Running to save him. Running to be saved.

  But this time it was too late.

  Sam’s house had always been so warm, so homey and welcoming. But that night it was something else, something frightening. The front door hung off its hinges, huge gouges splintering the wood. I looked around for a weapon and picked up a garden fork from the porch steps, wondering if that’s what had made the marks on the door, the long scratches.

  I’ll never forget the way my heart pounded in my throat as I approached that door. It pounded so hard, it seemed to rise up in my throat. I thought I would choke on it. I entered the house, sure that something would jump out and attack me at any moment. But what I found was so much worse.

  There was nothing. Nothing but blood. I wandered through the house in shock, but there was only blood. Tracks of blood on the carpet, splatters on the wall, a trail leading out the back door and into the night.

  The police didn’t find anything more than I had. The trail was more than cold, they said, it was nonexistent. There was nothing to go on. All the DNA, all the blood was from Sam’s family. There was no motive. Nobody would want to hurt Sam’s family; his father was a grade school teacher and his mother ran the best bakery in town. Everyone liked them. His little sister had been the same age as Hamish.

  They didn’t believe me about the person I’d seen. They said it was trauma and I had to talk to a counselor, and after a while I almost believed it. But someone had been there. Someone had taken Sam and his family from me.

  Sam was gone. He was dead, no matter what my stupid brain wanted to believe. I could conjure him up all over the place, it didn’t make it less true, it didn’t mean he was really there. But it looked like I’d have to prove it to myself beyond a doubt if I ever wanted to get any peace.

  I sighed and rolled out of bed. I’d seen the Golden Garden earlier and it hadn’t seemed that far, I could probably find it in the moonlight. The Golden were probably all asleep and even if they weren’t, the security was no doubt too tight for me to discover anything, but I had to do something to shut my stupid brain up. Hannah hadn’t seen a fourth person, but the sun had been so bright. There might have been someone, someone who just looked a bit like Sam from a certain angle, in the right light. If I met that person, I’d know for sure. There was no point trying to make a fresh start at a new school if I was stuck in the past.

  I didn’t want to wake Hannah, so I carried my shoes to the door and slipped out as quietly as I could, making sure I had my student card to get back in. I had no clue what the time was, but the house was silent and the lights were dimmed as I crept down the hall and into the elevator, then out the front door.

  The school had a completely different atmosphere at night, less like a quaint village and more like the secluded island that it actually was. The path was edged with tiny lights and the school brochure had gone into great detail about security measures, so it wasn’t as creepy as it could’ve been, but it was still obviously in the wilderness. The air was fresh and crisp, and I wished I’d thought to grab a jacket. At home, summer had lingered, but here it was well past.

  Every noise seemed amplified in the quiet, the distant crash of the ocean and the wind in the trees. Again, I heard a wolf howl and I wondered what other animals might be in the forest. Bears? Judging from the coolness of the weather, we seemed quite far north, maybe there were even moose. Moose were cool. I’d like to see a moose. Probably not while wandering around alone in the middle of the night though.

  I followed the path around to the right instead of into the Zen garden, toward the school. From what I remembered, the Golden Garden had been at the far edge of the forest, so if I kept to the path right to the end, I’d probably find it. Hopefully.

  The path branched off in different directions in a few places but I figured if I went to the right each time it would be easier to find my way back if I got turned around. I wondered what the Golden House was like, would it be some sort of palace, or maybe a weird ultra-modern kind of thing. I hoped that whatever it was, it had a sign at the front that said, “hey, Lucy’s brain, please stop thinking about Sam Spencer”, because that would be super convenient.

  Gradually, the lights at the edge of the path became further and further apart until they stopped completely. That didn’t seem right. You’d think there’d be extra lights for extra special people. Still, the path kept going, so I followed it.

  “You can’t be here.”

  I stopped in my tracks, my heart pounding as I looked up to see who was talking to me from out of the darkness. I’d been so intent on the path that I hadn’t realized I’d ventured just inside the forest, into a woodland glade that was filled with wildflowers. Beyond the glade, the trees grew thickly and the forest was dark. To the left, I could see a high stone wall, continuing on into the trees.

  Althea Wilde sat on a white bench under a trellis in the middle of the glade, staring at me disdainfully. She seemed luminescent in the moonlight, glowing and otherworldly. Like a fairy princess. I felt like Godzilla in comparison.

  “You have to leave,” she said. Although she gave off this fey, floaty impression, she actually seemed a little agitated. Her whole face was pinched and hard, her lips thin. Her eyes darted around as if she didn’t want to look directly at me, as if poverty was catching via eye contact or something.

  “Okay,” I said. “But are you all right? I mean, you’re sitting in the forest in the middle of the night, wearing only your nightgown, is everything okay? You should be careful you don’t catch a cold.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Can you please just go?”

  “What’s going on here?” said a sharp voice.

  Tennyson Wilde emerged from the forest as if he’d been transported from the netherworld by shadow and moonlight. He moved like a dancer, each motion fluid and calculated, and as he stepped into the glade, his eyes flashed with menace.

  “Althea, who is this person?” he asked, looking between the two of us.

  “I don’t know,” said Althea, sounding both exasperated and bored. “She forced her way in here and now she won’t leave.”

  “I didn’t force my way anywhere!” I said. “This is a public area and I have just as much right to be here as you.”

  I had no idea whether or not that was true. There might have been big signs saying “no Lucys allowed” or “super rich people only”. It was dark and I hadn’t been paying that much attention, so it was possible. But th
at wasn’t the point. The point was that they were rude jerks. And that Tennyson Wilde was a bit creepy. Why was he even in the forest with his sister in the middle of the night? That wasn’t normal. Creepy jerk.

  “If he’s making you be here or something, I can help you,” I said to Althea. “I’m not scared of him.”

  Althea rolled her eyes. “I’m acting completely of my own free will.”

  Sure, she thought that, but so did people in cults just before they committed mass murder and got married to crusty old hippie guys who had fifteen other wives. Tennyson Wilde definitely looked capable of brainwashing the masses. Not so crusty though.

  He took a step closer to me, narrowing his eyes. I was hit with that same feeling as the day before, of wanting to prove my worth to him, but I was onto him now. There would be no washing of my brain. He could try as hard as he liked to intimidate me with his piercing blue eyes and his artfully messy hair and his broad shoulders, I was having none of it. I didn’t even care why they were frolicking around the forest in the middle of the night. Rich people were weird, everyone knew that. I’d come out to find answers and that’s exactly what I intended to do.

  “Hey, so do you guys know someone called Sam Spencer who died around three years ago? Brown hair? Kind of goofy? Cries if you talk about sad puppies?” I tried to keep my voice casual, as if I was just making conversation and none of this was incredibly weird.

  The two of them exchanged a look. It was the kind of look that meant something but I had no way to read it. Most likely they were thinking it was a strange question, but it wasn’t as if they were in any position to judge. Althea shrugged and stood up.

  “I’m going to bed,” she said to her brother. “You can deal with this.”

  She stepped lightly as she walked over to the stone wall, and I winced as I noticed she wore nothing on her feet. Didn’t she realize she could step on something sharp or be bitten by any number of things? Maybe she was so rich and special that nothing would dare hurt her. She passed through a small golden door in the wall, and I was left alone with Tennyson Wilde.

  He didn’t say anything, not for the longest time, just tried to stare me down. I wanted to leave. It was late and I wasn’t interested in playing his reindeer games. But I just didn’t have it in me to back down, either. Once you backed down to a jerk like that, it was all over. So we were stuck there forever, it seemed, trying to glare each other into submission.

  “You ask too many questions,” he said, finally.

  I bit down on my triumphant grin. I was the winner and he was a total loser. Tennyson Wilde was in for a nasty shock if he thought he could bully me.

  “And you don’t answer any of them,” I said, folding my arms over my chest. “You know that makes you seem highly suspicious, right?”

  “I am under no obligation to you,” he said, turning to leave.

  “Who was the other person with you?” I said quickly, desperately, needing to know for sure. “There are four of you, right? Is it him? Is it Sam? You have to tell me.” I knew I sounded irrational, illogical, but I couldn’t even help it.

  He paused, his face turned away and in shadow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “I don’t know anyone with that name. Go back to your house and don’t come here again. It is not safe for you to be in the forest.”

  He swept away, and a cloud passed over the moon, leaving me in darkness.

  As I turned back to the path, I once again heard a wolf howl in the distance.

  Chapter 4

  “Lucy? Lucy? Didn’t you hear me calling you? Come on, you’re late!”

  I jumped up, flailing around for my books, my clothes, my laptop, before even realizing where I was. Hannah stood by my bed, a dark outline against the bright morning sun.

  “Everything you need for classes is on here,” Hannah said, placing a brand new tablet by my bed. “You’re going to miss breakfast, but if you hurry you can still get to morning assembly on time. Will you be okay to get there, or do you want me to wait for you?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I told her. I actually had no clue what I was doing, but I didn’t want to inconvenience her. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  She waved goodbye and left as I scurried around getting ready. I opened my bag, which was filled mostly with spare computer parts, and found my Amaris uniform at the bottom, then took the fastest shower ever. I was fairly sure my uniform wasn’t authentic, because the authentic ones had cost around the same as a year’s worth of my mother’s medication. I’d bought my uniform from eBay. The skirt was shorter than I was really comfortable with and the vest was super tight. I was fairly sure it was actually a cosplay outfit, but the blazer looked okay, so I buttoned it up, grabbed my stuff, and headed out.

  A clock tower chimed as I hurried through the gardens and up to the school. The class schedule on my tablet said that morning assembly was in the main hall, which was off from the fancy foyer we’d passed through the day before. It was easy enough to find, but once I was actually there, facing down the heavy wooden doors, I hesitated. Part of me felt like once I actually went in, I’d be an Amaris student for real, whatever that meant. Also, it was super awkward to burst in late to a hall full of people that you didn’t know. All those eyes turning toward you, thinking thoughts about you that you couldn’t control. But there was nothing for it. I was already late, and I didn’t want to miss out on anything. What if the assembly was full of important information that I needed to know to function at Amaris, but could never access again after this? The thought was enough to make me open those doors.

  It wasn’t actually that bad. The doors didn’t make a noise as I pulled them open and I snuck in quietly without anyone noticing. There were no spare seats, but I figured it would be fine to stand at the back near the door. There were a small group of adults standing as well — the fly-in teachers, I assumed, from all the tweed and elbow patches.

  I had not been at risk of missing anything important. Assistant Head Noel was reading out a list of sports teams and when tryouts were open for them. Sports teams cost money. Uniforms, equipment, none of that was cheap and extra-curriculars weren’t covered by my scholarship. I tuned him out and looked around the hall.

  It was a long room with a stage at the front and stained glass windows all around. The air was heavy and Assistant Head Noel’s deep voice reverberated off the walls. It made me wonder if the hall hadn’t been some sort of chapel once, it had a distinctly church-like feel. The students sat in rows of long bench seats, like pews. In their uniforms, they looked like cardboard cutouts, all made from the same pattern, identical haircuts and pedigrees and futures. I tried to find Hannah but she was lost in the sea of rich kids. I couldn’t see the Wildes either but maybe they got a special dispensation to skip boring stuff.

  As Assistant Head Noel moved on from sports tryouts to general school rules, I thought about the night before. That had been strange. I mean, sure I’d also been in the forest in the middle of the night but I’d had a legitimate reason for it, not just to hang out like a weirdo. And the way they’d acted after I mentioned Sam, something was definitely up with them. I ran through the possibilities in my head, amusing myself as I came up with more and more preposterous scenarios, and before I knew it, assembly was over.

  “Hey, Lucy!” Hannah waved at me, pushing her way through the crowd. “You made it! Do you have English first? I think it’s in the east wing, do you want to walk together?”

  The halls were crowded as everyone was making their way to class, so we fell into the general flow and let it sweep us along.

  “What did you do to Tennyson Wilde?” Hannah asked me as we walked down the grand staircase to the main foyer. “He’s ranked you as the number one most annoying thing about freshman year on his blog.”

  There was really no good way to explain how you were looking for your dead best friend in the forest, so I just shrugged.

  “I think we can cut down here,” I said, pointing to a less busy hallw
ay, though I had no idea where it went.

  “When did you even meet him?” Hannah asked, following me down the hall. “The Golden have never gone to morning assembly, most of the time they don’t even come to morning classes.”

  “I ran into him by accident while I was walking around,” I said. “He seems like a jerk.”

  “He is,” she said, then stopped walking. “I think this is the wrong way.”

  We made it to class just as the bell rang. Everyone else was still filtering in anyway, not really hurrying, so Hannah and I got the good seats by the window, overlooking the courtyard. The hipster beard teacher I’d seen at the welcome ceremony stood at the front of the room, leaning back on the desk as if waiting for us to come to attention in our own time. The name “Sebastian Porter,” an email address and a room number were scribbled up on the board in barely legible handwriting, along with “9th Grade English.” Mr. Porter looked very stern as he stared down at the class, waiting. His eyes seemed cold.

  When everyone had taken their seats, stopped chatting and turned to the front, he crossed his legs at the ankles and held up a book. Heart of Darkness, I saw.

  “Can anyone tell me what all the books on this semester’s reading list have in common?” he asked.

  “They’re all boring?” the beefy guy sitting next to me muttered.

  A few people laughed.

  “Mr.… Astor?” Mr. Porter asked, glancing over the class list, which I could see from the angle he held it had not only little photos of each student but what also looked like a short description as well. Again with the creepy and invasive.

  Astor nodded.

  “If you can give me a valid reason for your opinion that exhibits you’ve actually read the books on the reading list, I’ll give you an automatic A for the whole semester and you can spend every Monday morning tucked up in bed.”

  Astor stared at him blankly. Mr. Porter stared back with eyes that sparkled as if he had trouble containing all the mirth he held inside himself and it was straining to burst forth. I took back my initial impression of him as a bit of a douche. This guy was awesome.