Ritual of Magic (Academy of the Damned Book 2)
Page 5
“Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming,” I chant to myself.
Finally, I see light at the other end of the tunnel. I kick hard, desperate to reach it. When I get to the end of the tunnel, it opens up into a large pool, but not a swimming pool like La Voisin. This is a natural pool. The floor is rocky, and the water here is murky.
“Ivy!” I call out. I look left and right, but I don’t see her. I wonder if this is the hot spring Jaxon was talking about or just a large pool on the way there.
It’s getting harder to breathe, and I realize I’m running out of oxygen. I turn to head back to the tunnel, but as I do, someone swims past my arm.
Ivy!
“Hey!” I call out to her. “We need to go!”
But as she turns toward me, I realize it’s not Ivy at all.
The creature has Ivy’s hair, her face, her body, but her eyes are pale and her skin is green. She opens her mouth and reveals sharp teeth.
I scream, and the creature lunges at me. I grab her wrists and hold her back, but she is stronger than me, especially in the water. She jerks her arm back and bites my wrist, red blood floating up into the water like ink.
I scream again. Another creature moves water as it comes up behind me. I twist around, and there is another Ivy clone. In the distance, I see another one as well. I’m surrounded.
What are these creatures? Why are they trying to hurt me? Why do they look like Ivy?
I’m still struggling with the first one, my wrist throbbing in pain. I try to kick her away, but another creature grabs my leg. I’m flailing and panicking now. I need to get away. These monsters are going to kill me if my lack of oxygen doesn’t do the job first.
I try to summon a current of air to knock them away or something, but I can’t. Not here. Not so deep. All water has some air in the molecules, but I’m not strong enough to harness them.
I exhale as hard as I can to make my air bubble bigger, then I kick and scratch as much as I can. Eventually, the creatures release their hold on me, and the air bubble starts to lift me toward the surface. I can’t see it, but if the bubble is floating this way, it must be the way up.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I put distance between myself and the monsters, but then I hit something. I run my hands along whatever is in front of me, and it feels like a cave wall.
I’m in an underwater cavern! I’m trapped!
I scream again, and I can hear the creatures laughing at me, their voices ricocheting through the water as they give chase.
There is nowhere for me to go, no way for me to defend myself. I’m going to die.
The creatures grab my arms and legs and drag me back down, deeper into the cave. I close my eyes. I don’t want to see them eat me.
I hear a shriek, and one of my arms is freed. I open my eyes and see Ivy—the real Ivy—throw a strong current of water at the creatures, knocking them away from me. She then shoots toward me as if she were wearing some kind of underwater boosters, but she’s not. She’s just that good of a swimmer.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I can hear her voice clearly in the water. I’m too shaken to reply, so I just shake my head.
“I’ll get you out of here.”
She grabs my arm and drags me through the water so quickly, it’s like we are flying. When we reach the tunnel, she makes me go first.
“I’ll be right behind you,” she says.
I enter the tunnel, but I’m so weak and scared, I’m not sure I can swim through. Thankfully, I don’t have to. Ivy sends a current to propel me through the tunnel. I cover my head and let the current carry me back to the La Voisin pool. Once I’m through the tunnel, I kick my feet to take me back to the surface.
“There she is!” Krista says.
Then strong arms wrap around me. Jaxon. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he carries me to the edge of the pool. My air bubble pops, and I take a deep breath, nearly choking on air. I’d been drowning in carbon dioxide.
Krista pulls me up onto the edge of the pool as I cough and sputter. Zoey is leaning over me, her face wracked with worry.
“What happened?” Krista asks. “Are you all right?”
“Where…” I try to talk, but my voice is raspy. “Ivy?”
Jaxon dives back into the pool.
“Wait!” I try to tell him about the monsters, that it’s too dangerous, but it’s too late. He’s already underwater. I grab Krista’s arm. “You…you have to stop him!”
Krista looks at the pool, but I can see the fear in her eyes. I’ve never known Krista to be afraid of anything, but we’ve never been near a dangerous pool of water before.
“There they are!” someone else says, pointing to the pool.
I sit up and see Jaxon and Ivy surface. It’s hard for me to tell who is carrying who, though. They seem to be helping each other. They get to the edge of the pool, and everyone helps them out of the water.
“What’s going on?” Ivy asks as she pulls her long, sodden hair out of her face. “What were you doing down there, Madison?”
“I…I didn’t know what happened to you,” I say. “I was worried.”
“I was fine,” she says. “You shouldn’t have been down there. It’s too dangerous for any witch that isn’t water clan.”
“It’s dangerous for you too!” I say. “The grate is there for a reason! What were those creatures?”
“Creatures?” Jaxon asks. “What creatures? I didn’t see anything.”
“At the other end of the tunnel, in the cavern,” I say. “There were these…things. They looked like Ivy, but they were evil!”
“Evil Ivys?” Jaxon scoffs. “I think you ran out of air and were hallucinating.”
“No!” I say, holding up my arm.
Everyone winces, and one girl puts her hand to her mouth. I look down.
“Shit!” I didn’t realize how bad it is. No wonder I still feel woozy. The monster nearly ripped my arm open, and blood is pooling around me, dripping back into the pool.
“Oh my god,” Ivy says when she sees the blood.
“What?” Jaxon asks.
“Run!” she screams.
Everyone panics as the monsters enter the pool from the tunnel and swim toward us. Jaxon practically throws me over his shoulder as he heads for the door, which Ivy is holding open for everyone.
There’s a flash of light; Krista blasts the beasts with balls of fire as she backs to the door. Once she is through, Jaxon uses a nearby potted plant to coil strong roots around the door handles, securing them. The creatures slam into the glass doors, snarling and thrashing about.
“What the hell?” I ask between pants.
“Selkies!” Krista says. “Ivy! You never said there were selkies down there. Are you out of your damn mind?”
“I didn’t tell you because then I’d never hear the end of it,” Ivy says, crossing her arms. “But they’re no match for me.”
“What’s a selkie?” I ask.
“Underwater shapeshifters,” Krista says. Her gaze roves over Ivy as if looking for any signs of injury. “Scottish fae. Nasty brutes.”
I want to hear more, but I’m suddenly sick. I push away from Jaxon and fall to the ground. I just want to pass out if it will make my head stop spinning.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Jaxon says. He grabs some leaves from a nearby pot and puts them on my wound, using the leaves to staunch the bleeding and seal the wound. “That will hold for a few minutes, until we can get you to the infirmary.”
He lifts me in his arms and carries me. I can’t help but notice how easily he does so. He’s really strong, like even stronger than he looks—and he looks pretty strong, so that’s saying a lot. He has perfect abs and muscular arms. I wouldn’t have known he had such a body under the casual clothes he usually wears. I close my eyes and try to stop thinking about him before I slip and say something stupid in my light-headed state.
Jaxon laughs.
“What?” I ask.
“You haven’
t said anything stupid yet,” he says.
Wait…did I say some of that out loud? Can I please just pass out now?
I have no idea where the infirmary is, but Jaxon must find it because he lays me on a hard bed like you’d find at a hospital.
“What’s going on here?” Ms. Laurent asks.
I can’t see her. Everything is dark or blurry. But I can hear her terse voice.
“Oh, great,” I mumble. Of all the people who could be the school nurse, why did it have to be her?
“Selkie attack,” Ivy says. “In the pool.”
“Selkie?” Ms. Laurent asks. “Are you children daft? How in Hecate’s name did selkies get in the pool?”
“It’s a long story,” Ivy says.
“I doubt that,” Ms. Laurent says. “You water witches are nothing but trouble. Go to your room this instant while I talk with Ms. Brewster about your punishment.”
“But Madison—” Ivy starts.
“Will be fine now, no thanks to you.” Ms. Laurent ties something around my arm, and I wince. “Don’t be a baby. It’s only going to get worse.”
I try to make a quip, but it only comes out, “Bed…side…manner… I’m sick!”
She holds up a trash bin for me to lose my lunch in.
“Yes, that’s common with so much blood loss,” she says as she pats my back. “All right, all of you, out!”
“Will she be okay, Ms. Laurent?” Zoey asks.
“Of course, dear,” she says, using the kindest voice I’ve ever heard come from the woman. “Now, run along.”
Once my friends are all gone, I stop fighting and pass out.
Chapter 6
As I prod at my injured arm, I wince. I can’t see the wound. It was wrapped in gauze while I slept. But Ms. Laurent said it would heal nicely thanks to Jaxon’s intervention.
That was a few days ago. I’ve kind of been avoiding my friends since then. I was stupid. I never should have gone into the tunnel. I’m not even sure why I did. What was pulling me to go? I just…had a feeling.
Of course, the feeling proved wrong. Ivy wasn’t in danger. She knew what she was doing, I suppose. I was the only person who ended up in danger. Nearly getting both myself and Ivy killed.
I’m lucky Ms. Brewster didn’t expel us both. I have no idea how she cleared the pool of the selkies, but she’s powerful; I sure wouldn’t want to cross her.
When I haven’t been in class, I’ve been here, in the grotto. Hiding.
I mean studying.
Actually, studying isn’t entirely inaccurate. I’ve been researching the North Wind Flute. One of the professors I talked to gave me some resources for translating the ancient Greek on the page. It ended up being a song or a poem written to Hecate.
Unfortunately, the song-poem didn’t help me learn anything about where the flute might be now. When I updated Ms. Brewster on my progress, she gave me a small nod and said she had followed the same path to try and find the flute. Then she said she hoped our paths would diverge soon.
I’m kind of stuck. I’ve taken pictures of the image and searched all over Google with no leads. I talked to Mr. Hamilton, the school librarian, and all he could tell me was that the flute was missing and no one knew what happened to it. I’m just not sure what I am supposed to do next.
I lean my head back against the pedestal of my statue and let out a sigh. I’m just sitting here, not doing anything, which isn’t the greatest use of my time. I still have a full class load and should be focusing on my regular homework.
I’m about to pack it in and do just that when a piece of paper floats down and lands on my lap.
I look up, but I don’t see anyone here. The statue looks the same as he did the last time I was here.
“Okay, that was freaky,” I mumble to myself. I pick up the paper. Written in the strange runic writing, it says, “Peabody Essex.”
I jump to my feet and face the statue. “Okay, this is getting really weird! Did you write this? Did you give this to me? What’s going on?”
The statue doesn’t move. I look behind him and then rush outside, running around the grotto. There has to be someone here. Someone playing a trick on me. But I see no one.
I pause and listen to the wind, but I don’t hear anything either. The nearest sounds are coming all the way from the house. I’m all alone out here.
I step back into the grotto, the paper still clutched in my hand. I approach the statue and stare at it for a long time.
“If you can move, why are you hiding from me?” I ask.
Nothing.
I hold up the paper. “Did you write this? Peabody Essex. What is that?”
The statue still doesn’t respond.
I sigh and gather up my stuff. “If you keep freaking me out like this, I’m going to stop coming here.”
I hear something like the grinding of stone on stone, but when I look up, nothing is moving. Nothing looks different. I grab my bag and jacket and rush out of the grotto. There is something weird going on in there, and I’m not sure I like it.
I hurry to my room and abandon my stuff. Zoey isn’t around; she’s probably in the library or something, but I don’t really feel much like being alone anymore after what just happened in the grotto, so I head down one floor to Krista’s room, where I find Ivy also.
“Hey, how’s the arm?” Krista asks.
“Healing,” I say, holding it up. “Slowly but surely.”
“We should go see my gran,” she says. “She’s a belter with herbal remedies.”
Funny how Krista slips into her Scottish slang whenever she talks about her family.
“I’d like that. Your gran is amazing,” I say. “But I feel like I need to apologize again for, you know, almost getting us all killed by selkies.”
“You were just curious,” Ivy says. “We all want to explore things that are beyond our abilities at some point.”
“And endanger the lives of everyone you know?” I ask.
“Let that be a lesson for air witches to avoid watery situations,” Ivy says with a smirk.
“Duly noted.”
“So, what’s up?” Krista asks. “What brings you to my lair?”
“This.” I hand her the drawing of the flute and the cryptic note.
“Ah, Hecate’s flute.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Sure, but that’s about it,” Krista says. “It’s a legendary item. Don’t know what happened to it or if it ever existed at all.”
“The story says that Hecate used the flute to lead the demons to hell,” Ivy says. “Then she and her acolytes sealed the gate.”
“So, she was like a Pied Piper of demons?” I say.
“Something like that.” Krista hands back the page. Then she looks at the runic message. “What does this say?”
“Peabody Essex.” I shrug. “I came across it…in my research. But I don’t know what it means.”
“It’s a museum,” Krista says. “Not far from here.”
I snort. “Are you joking?”
“Joking?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not that lame. Seriously, it’s like just downtown.”
“Do you think the flute is at the museum?” Ivy asks me. “Right under our very noses?”
I spread my hands. “I don’t know. Has anyone ever checked?”
Ten minutes later, we’re falling through a mirror from Krista’s room into the museum. Swords and plate armor line the walls around the large gilded mirror we stepped through.
My eyes widen. “Looks like some historical British exhibit.”
Ivy lifts a velvet rope, and we step out of the exhibit and onto the visitor’s trail.
“It’s an international arts and culture museum,” she says, “so they have exhibits from all over.”
“This is so cool.” I snatch up a museum brochure from a nearby stand. They have collections from all over the world, including a large section on Native American art and history. They also have a library and a research lab. I would love to s
pend more time here. I stuff the brochure into my pocket, despite the poor fit, hoping to return in the future when I have more time to explore on my own.
“The classical world,” Krista reads on a large, lighted map. “I bet that’s where they keep anything Greco-Roman.”
We all smile at a guard as we make our way out of the European wing and head for the classical world on the next floor up.
“It can’t be this easy,” I say. “There’s no way we are going to just pop over here and find what we are looking for.”
“Weirder things have happened,” Ivy says.
“Maybe there’s something else called Peabody Essex,” I say as we walk. “Like a person, or a museum in another country. Or maybe I’ll find information on the flute in the library—”
“Let’s just have a gander,” Krista says. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and be back at La Voisin in time for dinner.”
We enter the classical world wing. It’s enormous. My breath catches in my chest from the sheer awe of it all. This wing takes up several rooms, each with dozens of display cases, with many of the cases containing countless items of every size and use. And yet despite the massive amount of artifacts here, everything is spaced out as if each display is a feature of the museum.
“Check out these swords used by Amazon women,” Krista says. “I’d cut off one of my breasts if it meant I could wield one of those.”
Ivy cringes. “Too bad they were warriors and not seafarers,” she says. “Can you imagine what the world would have been like if matriarchy would have spread instead of patriarchy.”
I rub my finger along the edge of the display glass. “Did the Amazons worship Hecate?”
“Probably,” Krista says as we move on to another display. “But a lot of Amazonian history was lost.”
“They were warriors, not poets,” Ivy says.
As Ivy looks at one of the displays, Krista’s gaze follows. When she notices me watching, though, her cheeks turn red and she looks away. I quickly avert my gaze also, feeling like I’ve somehow intruded on Krista. I get the feeling she has feelings for Ivy, but that’s none of my business.
“They didn’t record much of their history,” Ivy goes on, oblivious. “And it’s suspected that, as they were slowly defeated by other tribes, what few records they had were destroyed.”