Then the answer dawned on me. “Lance Rathbone might have one. If Selene asks he’d probably let us use it. Actually, if she asks he might go out and get a new one just to make her happy. His dad’s rich enough for him to do crazy stuff like that.” So long as he hasn’t been disinherited yet, I reminded myself.
“All right,” Paul said. “Talk to him and let me know.”
“How can I do that with your phone being monitored?”
“The old-fashioned way.” A delighted expression lit Paul’s face. “Write me a note. I’ll be sure to be near when you’re in biology tomorrow.”
I wrinkled my nose. I supposed that would work. With the chaos that was biology, slipping him a note would be simple enough. But it was a slow way to communicate. “We can do that for now, but we should come up with a code so we can use the phones.”
“Agreed.” He inclined his head. “I’ll put something together that Brackenberry, or whoever is watching, won’t be able to figure out.”
“It’s a plan. But you’ve got to go.” I glanced at the door, convinced I’d heard a noise. But several seconds passed, and the door remained shut.
“All right.” Paul slid the necklace around his neck, locking it into place. The second he did, the magic in the thing kicked on. That same blurriness obscured his features for a second before clearing again. The creepy bearded man stood in the room with me. I suppressed a shiver.
Paul peered down at me with a stranger’s eyes. “I’ll talk to you soon. Be careful. Especially with that sword.”
I nodded, lacking the nerve to speak. It was just too weird with him in that disguise.
He turned toward the door, but then stopped just short of opening it. He glanced back. “One more thing. Are you going to tell Eli I was here?”
“I…” I hesitated, the answer not forthcoming. “I don’t know. Probably. Why do you ask?”
“He won’t like it,” Paul said, a warning look in his eyes. “He hates me.”
I scoffed. “Eli doesn’t hate you. You’re just not his favorite person. Like ever.”
Paul chortled. “That’s an understatement. Do what you want, but please remember that nobody is supposed to know I’m here.”
“Eli wouldn’t out you,” I said, annoyed.
“No, I suppose not. But please promise to keep it secret. Selene and Lance are okay. But that’s it. All right?”
“Sure,” I said, understanding all too well. Paul had made a lot of enemies the last few months. He’d been one of Marrow’s most important followers once, and now he’d openly turned against him. Every person on that destroyed list might be out to get him.
“Thanks,” Paul said. “I’ll be seeing you.” Then he disappeared out the door, closing it silently behind him.
Alone again, I leaned back on the pillow and closed my eyes, eager for Eli’s arrival. Even though having Paul back in my life wasn’t something I wanted, I had to admit he’d raised my spirits. The situation with my mom looked less bleak than it had just an hour before. Less bleak enough that I thought I’d be able to enjoy the private time with Eli without too much guilt or worry.
About time, I thought, yawning.
But as the seconds gave way to minutes, and finally an hour, I succumbed to sleep once more.
Eli never showed up.
11
Bad Luck
“Where were you?”
Eli chewed the last bit of his bacon and swallowed. Around us the cafeteria was chaotic with breakfast activity, chattering voices, tired laughter, and the click and clack of silverware against plates. Selene and Lance were still going through the food line, giving Eli and me a rare moment to talk in private. Minus the couple dozen of our fellow students, of course.
“I got caught by Bollinger,” he said, rubbing his eyes. Two dark circles rimmed his cheeks. “She was patrolling right outside the infirmary. I think I would’ve made it in to see you if it had been anybody else, but she knew exactly why I was there.”
My eyebrows climbed my forehead. “You think she was guarding me?”
“Yeah, maybe. At least she knew you were in there. It was rotten bad luck.”
“No kidding.” I smiled, ruefully. “That’s certainly how it’s been running for us lately though, right?”
“So it seems.” He pushed his tray to the side, the food half-eaten. I frowned, dismayed by his reaction. I’d expected the opposite. He was usually my bright-side boy.
Deciding it was my turn to take the sunny view, I leaned toward him, lowering my voice. “In the better news department, I might have a way to get a copy of the case files Valentine has on my mom.”
“You do?” Eli sat up straighter. “How?”
“Paul’s back. He’s here at Arkwell, but it’s a secret. He’s in disguise for his own protection. But he’s willing to try to hack into Valentine’s computer for us.”
Eli’s body went rigid. “When did you start talking to Paul?”
I swallowed, remembering Paul’s warning. “He’s been e-mailing me all summer. I’ve been ignoring them, but last night … he came to see me in the infirmary. Not long after I texted you.”
Eli dug his fingers against the table. “You were alone with him? In the middle of the night?”
I slowly nodded. “I thought it was you at first. You can imagine my shock.”
The sound of his teeth grinding sent a shiver down my back. “Not really.”
“Well, trust me, I wasn’t happy about it. Until he told me that he knows my mother is innocent.”
I watched as Eli visibly unclenched his jaw. “What did he say?”
Quickly, I relayed the story. “And so I ended up asking if he could hack into the police computer network for us,” I said, as I finished, “and he agreed.”
Eli drew a deep breath, and I could see the struggle waging inside him. “That’s good news. And I’m … I’m glad he’s willing to help. We need those files for sure.”
“Right,” I said, my voice breathless with relief.
Eli reached across the table and took my hand. “Just make sure you don’t go anywhere alone with him again. Ever. Okay?”
I pressed my lips together, fighting back a smile at his protectiveness. “I’ll try not to.”
“I mean it, Dusty.” He locked his eyes on my face, his gaze intense. “He can’t be trusted, and … and I’m worried about you.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Don’t be. It’s like you said. Dreams are symbolic. It was my dead body but it wasn’t me.” Just don’t let it be my mother either, I silently added.
Eli shook his head. “It’s not that. Well, not only that.”
“Then what?” My pulse quickened as I realized the depth of his concern went far beyond mere protectiveness.
“I’m terrified that you’re going to get hurt. And Paul coming back into the picture just makes it worse.”
Blood rushed in my ears. One dream containing my dead body couldn’t be enough to make him this spooked. “Why are you so worried about me?”
He sighed. “It’s stupid. But I keep having a lot of bad dreams about you. Really bad.”
The bad dream I’d had about him rose in vivid details inside my mind, all those bones crushing down on me. I stifled a shiver.
“I’ve always had them since Lady Elaine first told me about the curse, but they faded some over the summer. Now they’re back full force. Sometimes I dream about us arguing, you telling me that you don’t want to be with me anymore.” He laughed, the sound hollow, like the tinny ping of a cheap bell. “Sometimes you even tell me that you’d rather be with Paul. But often, I just dream about you getting hurt.” A shudder went through his body.
I didn’t press him for details. I knew well enough how vivid and relentless dreams could be and with a thousand ways to die in them.
“And the worst thing is,” Eli went on, “I’m the one who keeps doing it. I hurt you over and over again.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It was hard to dismiss his wo
rry when I’d had the same sorts of dreams. There was no such thing as coincidence in the magical world. “Do you think it’s the curse?”
“I don’t know, but it’s definitely something.”
My heart did a hard stutter in my chest. Around my wrist, Bellanax felt cold, lifeless. All at once the certainty I’d been harboring that the dream-seer curse was a made-up thing, as powerless to hurt us as the boogeyman in children’s stories, came crashing down. There was no denying what happened to Marrow and Nimue, after all. They’d been dream-seers just like Eli and me. By all accounts they had once loved each other, but the feeling had turned to hate. Nimue imprisoned Marrow in a dream, meaning to keep him there for all eternity. And when he awoke, he killed her.
With the very sword glamoured around my wrist.
This truth made me flinch. It was a terrible, wondrous thing to realize that Bellanax had killed people.
No, I thought. The sword is just a sword. Marrow did the killing.
Eli squeezed my fingers again. “It’s probably nothing. Don’t worry about it. Goodness knows we’ve got enough on our plate right now.”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him about my own dream, but Selene and Lance arrived at the table, trays in hand.
We never have enough time, I thought, my spirits sinking. Bad luck indeed.
“Hey,” Lance said, sliding into his chair. “And yes.” He picked up a unicorn skewer and pulled off the first piece, egg with onion, tomato, and spinach all wrapped in bacon.
I narrowed my gaze at him, immediately suspicious. “Yes what?”
He grinned up at me, forcibly chewing. He gulped the food down and said, “You can borrow my laptop.”
“Your laptop?” Eli said, looking puzzled.
“Yeah, she needs it for her ex to hack into the police department’s computers.”
“Shhh.” Selene slapped his arm. “Keep your voice down.”
Lance winced. “Opps. Sorry.”
I turned to Eli and explained the rest of the plan.
He nodded his agreement, his earlier worry hidden behind an aloof mask—one he wore for my benefit.
We made plans to meet up in room 013 after dinner, then we headed off to class.
Out of respect for Eli, I waited until after homeroom to write the note to Paul—out of sight, out of mind. But it proved challenging to focus on during English and history. We were still studying Beowulf, a story I was familiar with thanks to various movies and TV shows. Only, like so many other ordinary myths, Beowulf was a true story. And the magickind version was a little more interesting.
“When Beowulf’s slave stole the golden cup from the dragon,” Mr. Corvus was saying, “the poor fool did not know there was a curse upon the gold. It was this curse that was responsible for all the destruction that came later. The dragon was bound by the laws of the curse to destroy the lives and property of whoever had committed the theft for seven generations on.”
I set down my pencil, my note to Paul only half composed. The idea of the curse had caught my attention. Curses came in two types: minor and major. Minor ones were those you could cast with an incantation, like the asunder curse. But major ones were a different beast all together. A beast like the dream-seer curse.
I raised my hand.
“Yes, Dusty.” Mr. Corvus motioned toward me.
“If the curse was supposed to be for seven generations, does that mean Beowulf broke the curse by slaying the dragon?”
“Yes,” Corvus said, scratching his neatly trimmed goatee. “But only because the dragon had cast the curse to begin with.” Corvus paused and swept his one-eyed gaze over the room, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “Beowulf was very lucky in this. The dragon was extremely old. If it had died a natural death, the curse would have continued, only instead of the dragon causing the destruction it would’ve been the elements—storms, earthquakes, famine. That is the nature of major curses. Often, they grow more powerful over time.”
I leaned back in my chair, heavy with disappointment, and yet—“Is there no way to break a curse once the creator has died?”
Corvus stared at me a long time before answering. I resisted the urge to squirm beneath the scrutiny. “There are other ways, but none with any guarantee of working.”
With that, he turned away from me, the subject at an end.
* * *
When I arrived at biology, I spotted Paul right away. His creepy bearded-man disguise was slightly less disturbing in broad daylight, but still weird. Especially when he looked at me with such open familiarity. Ignoring my disquiet, I walked past him, slyly holding out my hand with the note tucked between my fingers. Paul plucked the note from me with an ease that suggested we’d been doing this sort of thing for a long time. I was glad Eli wasn’t around to see it.
The rest of the day sped by quickly, mostly thanks to all the homework I was trying to squeeze in between classes. I needed to make some headway, especially with the start of my private lessons with Deverell this afternoon.
Fortunately, when I arrived at Deverell’s room after classes, he told me we would keep it short that first day.
“I know you must be tired,” he said. “And there’s little point in doing a whole lot if your mind isn’t rested.”
I could’ve hugged him, but I refrained.
“I figure we will work on some mind-strengthening exercises, but before we do that, would you mind taking a look at this?” Deverell handed me a piece of paper that at first glance I took to be another nondisclosure agreement.
“Student conduct agreement?” I said, reading the title written across the top.
“Yes,” Deverell said. “The nondisclosure agreement I had to sign in order to help you with the sword gave me the idea.”
I scanned the fine print, which seemed to detail at length all types of bullying. “Does it work the same as the nondisclosure?”
“Indeed, although the range of the spell will be limited to this classroom.” He motioned to the room with its auditorium setup and large open space at the front. “But once every student signs one, they will no longer be able to partake in any bullying behaviors during my classes. The magic will quite literally seal their mouths shut.”
An image of Katarina looking like a cow chewing cud flashed in my mind. “You’re doing this for me?”
Deverell cupped his chin, running long tanned fingers over his angular jaw. “Not just for you, but for all my students. I’ve had the option of implementing one of these agreements from the beginning. Psionics can be such a delicate area of magic. There are risks involved with opening your mind to other people, as you well know. If you’re not skilled at protecting your thoughts, others can glean them.”
I nodded, remembering the way he’d taught me to guard my memories and thoughts I didn’t want him to see during our sessions last year when we had engaged in nousdesmos, a special kind of mind-link.
“And I don’t want a repeat of what happened between you and Katarina,” Deverell went on. “This classroom, if nowhere else on campus, will be a safe haven for any student who enters.”
Once again the urge to hug him came over me. I beat it back, settling for the hugest smile my face would allow. “Thank you, Mr. Deverell. That sounds wonderful.”
He beamed at me. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get started.”
We spent the rest of the time doing basic mind strengthening exercises. By the time we reached the end I was tired, but not nearly as exhausted as I’d been after some of our sessions last year. Before I’d bonded with Bellanax, the sword had haunted my dreams for weeks. But with Mr. Deverell’s help, I finally figured out what it wanted—me. I could only hope it was quicker about telling me this time.
“Make sure you leave the sword unglamoured again tonight, Dusty,” Mr. Deverell said.
I nodded, picking up Bellanax by the hilt. Deverell had suggested we leave the sword in its natural state during the session.
“Also,” Deverell said, “we might want to consider
trying some psychometry on it. That is, if you’re willing.”
I cocked my head, alarmed by the suggestion. The sword had belonged to Marrow for years. “Do you think it might tell us something about him? Like what it’s like when he resurrects?”
Deverell tented his fingers. “Anything is possible.”
The idea was both thrilling and terrifying. I examined the sword, seeing it in a new light. My mom was convinced that finding the person who freed Marrow from the tomb was the best way to stop him, but this could be even better.
As swords go, it wasn’t all that impressive, certainly not as ornate as some of the swords you could buy at a Renaissance festival. The cross guard was made of black steel, narrow in width and perfectly straight except for where the ends lifted sharply upward. Bone as pale as ivory formed the hilt, an engraving of a phoenix covering the rounded pommel. I’d always assumed that Marrow had put it there, a symbol of both his familiar and his mastery of Bellanax. I supposed that was something the psychometry might tell us for sure.
Making up my mind, I pulled my gaze away from the sword and reapplied the glamour. “I’m up for it,” I said, sliding the silver band onto my wrist. “But maybe you should try it first though, since I’m so new at it.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Deverell said, his expression confident. “We will do it together. Besides, I’m not certain the sword would permit me to probe its secrets without you.”
“Permit?” I started to smile, thought better of it, and frowned. “The sword could stop you?”
“Of course. This is not some mere inanimate object. It’s alive, in a manner of speaking. If it does not wish to divulge its history to me it won’t. I mean to say, that is the point of what we’re doing here—for you to learn how to communicate with your numen vessel.”
“Right.” I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder. “Together then.” It was a more reassuring option than going it alone.
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