“That sucks,” I say. “I bet if the Amazons had survived, we’d have more than just one school for witches.”
Krista nods. “That’s for sure.”
As we explore the exhibits, I read all about ancient wars, exploration, the gods and goddesses, poets and politicians, money and trade. I get so wrapped up in reading about the founding of the first academy I completely forget we’re supposed to be looking for Hecate’s flute until Ivy calls us over excitedly.
“What?” I ask, rushing to her side. She’s looking at a display on ancient instruments.
“Is that it?” she asks, pointing to what looks suspiciously like a modern-day flute.
“No,” I say, disappointed. “That one is too simple. Hecate’s has two stems and is carved with leaves and vines and stuff.”
“You mean like that one?” Krista says breathlessly.
Ivy and I crowd around her and press our noses to the glass.
“Oh my Goddess,” I say. I pull the paper out of my pocket, my hands shaking. “That…that’s the North Wind Flute! The flute of Hecate!”
“Ladies,” a voice calls out to us, and we all turn to face the guard. “Please, step back from the glass.”
“Yeah, of course, sure,” I stammer with an awkward smile.
We back away from the glass and huddle in a corner that’s still in eyesight of the flute.
“No way!” Krista says. “It can’t be. It must just look like the flute or be a replica. It can’t really be the really real flute.”
“It is!” I say as I keep looking from the paper to the flute in the case. “Look. They are exactly the same!”
Ivy frowns. “It just seems too good to be true.”
“Didn’t you say weirder things have happened?” I ask.
She shrugs.
“Don’t back out on me now! I need you guys. We have to get the flute to Ms. Brewster.”
Krista’s eyebrows pull together, and her expression goes strange. “Wait, what are you saying?” she asks. “Are you suggesting we—” She looks around and then continues in a harsh whisper. “—steal the flute? Are you crazy?”
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. But we found it. We can’t just leave it behind!”
Ivy grabs my hand and pulls me farther away from the display, but I don’t take my eyes off of it for a second, turning my head to look over my shoulder as she guides me.
“I think we should go get Ms. Brewster,” she says, continuing to tug me along. “Come on.”
“No!” I pull away and pace back toward the flute. “I’m not letting it out of my sight.”
“It’s been here for…who knows how many years?” Ivy says, taking my hand coaxingly. “I’m sure it will still be here an hour from now.”
“You can’t know that,” I say. “Now that we found it, someone else could, too.”
“What, you think we’re being watched?” Krista asks, spreading her hands and laughing as she looks around the museum. It’s pretty empty here, outside of the guards, artifacts, and ourselves.
I hold up the paper with the runic writing. “Someone sent me here. Someone else knows the flute is here.”
Krista and Ivy go quiet, looking at each other for a minute. Krista says, “Someone? I thought you found out about this while researching?”
“I-I did,” I stammer. “But I mean, someone must have left it as a clue on purpose, right? That can’t be a coincidence.”
Finally, Ivy sighs. “Fine, we’ll help you get the flute,” she says. “But you’re gonna owe us big time.”
“Whatever you want, I promise!” I grip their arms. “Thank you! Thank you!”
The guard has wandered off. He’s the only one I’ve seen, and the museum is big. He must have a lot of ground to cover. Those aren’t the only eyes we have to worry about though. Several big dark domes are attached to the ceiling. Security cameras, probably.
“So…what are we going to do?” I ask.
Ivy shakes her head as she walks to another display case. “Follow me.”
“To where?” I ask, keeping one eye on the flute.
“Stop being so obvious.” She rolls her eyes. “If the flute goes missing, you can be sure they’re going to check the tapes and see us acting like idiots.”
“Then how are we going to get the flute?”
“I’ll disable the cameras,” she says. “I’m just trying to figure out which ones are pointed at the flute.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “Krista, you will melt the glass in front of the flute.”
“On it,” she says, cracking her knuckles.
“Why don’t we just break the lock to the case?” I ask.
“Because that will trigger an alarm,” Ivy says. “And it’d be loud. But going directly through the glass should buy us some time.”
It’s a Friday afternoon, and I’ve barely seen any other museum visitors. There are none here in the classical world wing. I suppose she’s right. It will be several minutes, if not longer, before anyone figures out something is missing.
“Once the hole in the glass is big enough,” Ivy continues, “use wind to bring the flute to you.”
I nod, practically hopping from foot to foot. I can’t believe we are about to pull off a museum heist.
“Then what?” I ask.
“Then we get the hell outta Dodge!” Krista whispers harshly. “We hoof it back to the mirror and get home before anyone knows what happened.”
“And Goddess help us if we are identified by the cameras,” Ivy adds.
My stomach sinks like a stone, and suddenly, this isn’t so fun anymore. It’s criminal. My face has been on TV enough in recent months, after Beau’s death.
“Maybe this is a mistake,” I say.
Ivy shoots me a sharp look. “Too late now,” she says, pointing up. Above us is a rainshower she’s summoned over one of the cameras, causing it to short out. The red light stops blinking. “That was the only one aimed at the case. Go!”
Krista grabs my arm, and we rush to the display case. She places her hand on the glass, and within seconds, her hand is so hot, the glass starts to melt. I can feel the heat on my face. She makes the hole big enough for me to put my hand through, but when I start to reach toward it, she grabs my wrist.
“Use wind to cool it,” she says. “That molten glass will melt your arm if any of it drips on you.”
I gulp and then blow a cool breeze on the glass. As soon as it’s hard again, it’s almost difficult to see that there is a hole at all.
“Hurry!” Krista says.
I reach through the hole and summon a gust of wind that ends up knocking over all of the instruments in the case.
“Shh!” Krista says. “Just grab it!”
I reach in and grab the flute, turning it longways to maneuver it through the hole. “Got it!”
“Hide it!” Krista says.
I try to put the flute into my jacket, but it’s too long and wide to fit. We’ll be seen for sure. My stomach burns hot, and nausea roils in my gut. This was a terrible idea. What the hell was I thinking?
Krista takes the flute from me and pulls my jacket off my shoulders. She wraps the flute in the jacket and then hands it back to me.
“Let’s get out of here!” she says, pushing me toward the door of the exhibition hall.
“Slow down!” Ivy grabs us and pushes us into the Chinese art exhibit where a group of school kids examine some embroidery. The guard from earlier and a guy in a suit pass the exhibit, heading toward the classical world wing.
“They must have realized the camera is out,” Ivy says.
“We need to go now,” I say.
We leave the school group and practically jump down the stairs to the European exhibit we arrived in. Thankfully, this wing is empty. Krista reaches the mirror first and says the few words needed to open the portal back to La Voisin. Seconds later, we’re back in her room. My heart is still racing like a jackhamm
er.
“Did we really just get away with that?” I ask them. “Did we just steal from a museum?”
“That was crazy,” Ivy says, her face flushed. “We should never do anything like that again.”
“We better get that to Ms. Brewster,” Krista says, pointing to my jacket.
My face goes hot. “What if she gets mad?”
“Why would she?” Krista asks. “She asked you to find it.”
“Yeah, but she never said steal it. What if we get caught? We were definitely seen on the cameras.”
Ivy blows out a thin breath. “I’m sure that whatever trouble follows us, Ms. Brewster can take care of it.”
For some reason, I find little comfort in that. I don’t want to cause more trouble for people. Someone is going to have to be held responsible for our little stunt. What if the guard is fired?
I sit on Krista’s bed. “I’m going to be sick.”
“That’s just the adrenaline wearing off,” Krista says, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ll feel better soon.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I feel awfully guilty.”
“That’s cuz you are!” Krista says, laughing.
I don’t share her amused sentiment. She pulls my arm till I’m back on my feet.
“Awe, come on. It’s not that bad,” she says. “Let’s go see Ms. Brewster. She’ll set all to right.”
We make our way to Ms. Brewster’s office, where she’s speaking to Ms. Laurent.
“Yes?” Ms. Brewster asks, raising an eyebrow. “Can I help you ladies?”
“Sorry,” Krista says. “You’re busy. We have something for you, but we’ll wait in the hall.”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Ms. Laurent says sarcastically as she stands. “By all means, go right ahead. I’m sure I can wait.”
“No, really—” I try to say, but she brushes past us and down the hall without a second glance.
Ms. Brewster clears her throat and straightens her glasses. “So, what did you three need?”
“Actually, it’s just Madison,” Ivy says, nudging me forward.
“Yes, Madison?” she asks.
I look at the girls pleadingly, but they just nod for me to go ahead. I take a few steps toward Ms. Brewster, but my voice fails me.
“What is it?” Ms. Brewster asks.
I can’t get the words out, so I pull the flute out from under my jacket.
Ms. Brewster’s face falls. “Is…is that…?” she asks, pointing.
I can only nod.
Ms. Brewster sinks into her chair. “The North Wind Flute.” She reaches for it with a shaking hand, and I give it to her. “You actually found it.” She holds the flute close, running her hands over the carvings in the wood. “I can’t believe it.” Then she looks back at me. “But how? Where?”
“Peabody Essex,” I manage to squeak out.
“The museum?” Her eyebrows pinch and pucker together. “Are you saying it has been at the museum the whole time?”
I clear my throat. “I don’t know how long it has been there, ma’am,” I say. “But that is where I found it today.”
She shakes her head, then goes back to admiring the flute. “Well,” she finally says after some minutes, “I can’t thank you enough for finding it. And I assume Ivy and Krista helped?”
“Yes,” I say. “I couldn’t have done it without them.”
“How did you get it out of the museum?” Ms. Brewster arches an eyebrow.
“Umm…” I look at the girls, and they hold up their hands helplessly. “We stole it.”
Chapter 7
Ms. Brewster jumps to her feet. “You what?”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” I say quickly, spreading my hands. “I couldn’t leave it once I saw it. I’m so, so sorry!”
Ms. Brewster hisses a breath, then closes her eyes and nods slowly. After another slow, death breath, she opens her eyes and beams a bright, but unnatural smile. “It’s fine,” she says, just the smallest pinch in her tone. “If anyone comes knocking, I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you...” I say. “I’m really so very sorry.”
She holds up a hand. “Just… Why don’t you girls have a fun night out? You’ve earned it.”
“Really?” Krista and Ivy ask in unison.
“Yes,” Ms. Brewster says. “Go to New York or something. Do some shopping. Take in a show. But by all means, be seen, do you understand?”
Ah, now it makes sense. She wants us to create an alibi. If we are in New York City, then we couldn’t possibly have been stealing from a museum in Massachusetts.
“Yes, Ms. Brewster,” we all say.
She pulls a credit card out of her pocket that by some means of magic has my name on it. “Use this, along with your ID cards,” she says. “Change your clothes before you go.”
“Yes, ma’am!” we all say as we file out of the room.
“Just be quick about it!” she calls after us.
We all rush to our rooms to change our clothes and fix our hair. Zoey still isn’t in my room, but according to my phone, it’s only six o’clock. She’s either still studying or having dinner.
I hurry back to Krista’s room to meet up for a night on the town, a sense of dread in my stomach that this bullet might not be as good as dodged just yet.
I’ve never been to New York City. I don’t know why I never used my powers so casually in the past. I could have traveled the world instead of staying stuck in Turkey Hollow all my life. I guess I wasn’t used to using my powers at all, much less so frivolously.
I still feel terribly guilty over the theft of the flute. But Krista and Ivy do a good job of distracting me. We go see Hamilton on Broadway, and it’s amazing!
I’ve never seen a professional play before. We didn’t even have a local theater in Turkey Hollow. The closest I ever got was seeing my high school’s production of Wicked, and that was…lacking, to say the least.
With Hamilton, though, everything is so incredible! The set, the costuming, the songs. It’s like I’m in another world for three hours. Afterward, we eat New York-style pizza and buy some new outfits in some local shops. I have no idea how much money we spend; Krista and Ivy won’t let me see the receipts.
“When Ms. Brewster hands you a credit card and tells you to have fun,” Krista says, “you do as she says!”
I can’t argue with that. If I look at the price tags on anything, I’d probably have a heart attack, which would be decidedly not fun. So I let Krista and Ivy take the lead, following them where they want to go.
I’m glad we get to share this amazing night out. I can’t remember the last time I had fun like this. It was probably the last time Beau and I went on a date. And that would have been dinner at Sonic and then parking on the hill overlooking the town. He turned the radio on, and we danced under the stars. We talked about our future and what college would be like. He was super pumped for the next football game. The semifinals. The one that would take us—him—to State. He’d get recruited by the top colleges. Offered a full ride. Then he’d go pro and be able to help lift his family—his entire tribe—out of poverty.
“Why are you crying?” Ivy asks me as we sit in the back of a taxi on our way to a club that permits minors.
I cuss and wipe my cheeks. “Sorry. Just feeling melancholy. The rush of adrenaline and then having this amazing night out. It’s just a lot of emotions I guess.”
Krista and Ivy hug me. “Don’t worry,” Krista says. “We have your back. And so does Ms. Brewster. You did the impossible today!”
“For the second time,” Ivy says. “You completed that potion she couldn’t. And now you found the flute she couldn’t. She better look out. I think I see a rising star in the community.”
I laugh. “Yeah, right,” I say. “The person so weak I wasn’t even missed when I didn’t show up for almost two years.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Ivy says with a wink.
We arrive at the club and pile out. We have a great
night dancing and even drinking something Ivy snuck in from who knows where. Back in Turkey Hollow, it wasn’t a big deal for high schoolers to drink after a big game, so I know a bit of what I’m getting into. I have enough alcohol to go a little wild, but not get totally smashed.
By the time the club closes at four a.m., we’re wiped out. We use a mirror in the ladies’ room to go back to La Voisin. I sneak into my room so I don’t wake Zoey and crash onto my bed, passing out almost instantly.
When I wake the next day, it’s afternoon. But it’s a Saturday, so it’s fine. I can hear people outside running around on the lawn, playing sports and stuff. It’s probably a nice day out. I force my body to roll over and look at Zoey.
She’s not there. Her bed is made and her backpack is gone.
“Zoey?” I call out hoarsely, wondering if she’s in the bathroom.
She doesn’t respond.
I check my phone. There are some missed calls from her that came in around midnight, but she didn’t leave any messages. She must have been worried about me. I should have left her a note or something. But she must have seen me when she got out of bed this morning. I’m surprised I didn’t hear her. I wasn’t that wasted. Just exhausted.
I yawn and stretch, pushing off my blanket as I sit up. I should go find her. Apologize for leaving her behind. Of course, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t involve her in our heist just in case there are any repercussions. She has her whole life ahead of her.
I take a shower and brush my teeth. Then I get dressed and head down to the dining room for some breakfast and coffee. Krista and Ivy are already there, and Ivy looks terrible.
“Sheesh,” I say as I sit with them. “Couldn’t you have at least showered?”
“How are you fine?” Ivy asks. “I had three cosmos, and my head is still spinning.”
“Have you ever drank before?”
“Of course not,” Ivy says. “I’m underage.”
“You have to build up a tolerance for it.”
Krista snorts. “You’ve drunk enough to have a tolerance?”
Ritual of Magic (Academy of the Damned Book 2) Page 6