Ritual of Magic (Academy of the Damned Book 2)
Page 19
Jaxon runs his hands through his hair to squeeze out the water running down his face. He grabs a towel off a nearby chair and walks over to us with a smile. It’s only then I notice a scar on his chest, just left of the center. What was that from? Seems rude to ask, though, so I bit my tongue.
“Madison?” Ivy says.
I look at her. “Huh?”
She looks at me as if she asked me something that I totally missed. I must look like such a dweeb. “I was just telling Jaxon that you had something to say to him,” Ivy apparently repeats.
“Right,” I say casually…I think. “Well, you know, we just wanted to know if you were still willing to work with us on stuff. Like the statues and Zoey.”
He looks away as he bends over to towel off his legs. “I’d like to help you, Maddie,” he says. “But I don’t know what any of us can do about Zoey. It’s probably time to focus on something else, I hate to say.” He wraps his towel around his waist and then looks at me expectantly.
“I get why you would say that, but we’ve come across new information that could change everything, and we’d really appreciate your help.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I think he’s going to tell me to forget it, but then his mouth curves into a cocky smile.
“Of course,” he says. “You know I’d help you ladies with anything.”
“Such a flirt!” Krista says, her nose wrinkling.
“You know you love it,” he says, grabbing her and pulling her against him, getting the last of his wet hair and body on her. I can’t help but wish he’d grabbed me.
“No!” Krista screams. “Stop that, ye radge!”
He lets her slip away, and we’re all laughing.
“Let me get dressed,” he says. “I’ll meet you in the dining hall.”
“Actually,” I say, “let’s all meet out the back door. There’s something I need to show you.”
Everyone agrees, but as we turn to leave the pool, Jaxon reaches out and grabs my hand.
“Hey, Madison,” he says gently.
“Yeah?” I try to calm my racing heart. I don’t know what has come over me. I’ve never thought of Jaxon in a romantic way. Every time he’s tried to get close to me in that way, I’ve pushed back. Is this another sign of me getting over Beau? My body and mind craving the attention of someone new? The thought is enough to squelch any warmth I was feeling.
“I just want to say I’m sorry for upsetting you.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s not up to me when and how someone else uses their powers. If you aren’t ready, you aren’t ready, and that’s cool. I forget that all this witch stuff is still new to you in a lot of ways.”
“Thanks,” I say, a little overwhelmed by the earnestness of his apology. “That means a lot to me. And I’m sorry for getting so mad and shutting you out.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “We just needed to cool off.”
In more ways than one, I think as I tear my eyes away from him and give a small smile.
“Okay, well, get your clothes on so we can go,” I say, shocked I have the ability to form words.
He stretches, which just happens to make some of his arm and stomach muscles flex. By the Goddess…
“All right,” he says as he walks past me and holds the door open. “Gimme five.”
As I walk through the door, I can hear tittering behind me. I glance back at the pool and see a small huddle of freshmen girls giggling behind their hands. But whether they are laughing at me or their own girlish crushes, I can’t tell. I hope I wasn’t that obvious.
After we exit the back door, I take the lead so the others can follow me to the grotto. I’m a little hesitant, as though I’m betraying something special I share with the statue man, but I can’t continue on this journey alone. If the statue isn’t going to speak to me, I need help figuring out his riddles.
“Where are we going?” Krista asks me as we approach the grotto.
I nod toward it. “Just there.”
“Where?” Krista asks.
I look back at her, wondering why it isn’t obvious that we are headed for the old building, but I don’t say anything until we are right at the doorway.
“I found this the first week I came here,” I say. “No one else ever seems to come here, so it’s been my little place where I come to study or think or just be alone.”
The other three are looking around and then at each other.
“Just, like, by a wall?” Krista asks.
“What?” I ask her. “No. Just follow me.” I step through the grotto entrance, and the others gasp.
“What the heck?” Ivy says. “I didn’t even see it!”
I stick my head back out. “What do you mean?”
“The…entrance,” she says. “The whole building. I see it now that you went through it. But before, I just saw a curtain of greenery.”
“Me too,” Jaxon says.
“My eyes are bugger,” Krista says, rubbing her face. “How did you find it?”
I feel my eyebrows pull together. “Uhhh… It’s always been here.”
“There must be some sort of glamour around it to prevent people from seeing it,” Ivy says. She takes a tentative step forward and enters the grotto. “That is wild. Like one of those crazy 3D paintings where you have to adjust your eyes to see the picture in a picture.”
Krista and Jaxon follow her and then go deeper into the grotto.
“Cool place,” Krista says as she walks around, looking up at the partially open ceiling.
Jaxon kicks at a loose stone. “What happened? Looks like a storm blew through it.”
“I…kind of lost my temper,” I say.
“Whoa,” Ivy says. “Who is that?”
She’s looking at the statue man, and I feel protectiveness well up in me as I step next to her.
“I don’t know,” I say. “There’s no name on his pedestal, and I haven’t found his picture in any of the books.”
“He’s all right, I guess,” Krista says, and I know that’s high praise.
Jaxon is quiet, and when I look at him, his face is almost sad.
“He’s the one who started all this,” I say. “I came here so much, it was almost impossible not to notice his slight movements. And, somehow, I think he’s been leaving me notes.”
“What notes?” Jaxon asks, still not taking his eyes from the statue.
“This one,” I say, handing him the most recent note.
He tears his eyes away to open the paper and examine it.
“It says, ‘Help me, help Zoey,’” I say. “I don’t even need to translate it. The runes are clear to me now.”
“Madison,” Ivy says, her voice almost a whisper. “There is something strange going on around here.”
“You are only just now realizing that?” I ask her with a humorless chuckle.
“No, really,” she says. “The runes. Finding this place. It’s like you have some sort of special sight.”
“What if Giselle had it too?” I exclaim, everything coming together in my mind. “And Zoey! Giselle had been here. There is a picture of this man in her notebook, so she had to have seen him. And she was writing in runes.”
“What about Zoey?” Krista asks. “Did she say anything about this place?”
“Not to me,” I say. “But I’ve been coming here for months and didn’t tell anyone. She might have found it and kept it to herself.”
“So maybe that is the connection,” Ivy says. “Giselle and Zoey both had this sight, the same as you.”
“But Giselle is dead,” I say. “Does that…mean Zoey…?” I can’t say the words.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Krista says. “We’ve never found her…you know…”
The word “body” hangs in the air unsaid.
“Help me, help Zoey,” Jaxon says. “Maybe there is still hope for her yet. Plus, you’re still alive. That must mean something good.” He winks.
He’s right. I’m still alive. And maybe Zoey is, too. B
ut if she’s not, does that mean I’m next to die?
“If she’s still alive, how do we find her?” I ask. “I haven’t been able to do anything for the statues, and I’ve been puzzling over it for months. If I can’t help the statues, how can I possibly help Zoey?”
“No, there’s a comma,” Jaxon says. “I think the guy is saying that if you help him, then you will help Zoey, too. Or maybe that he wants you to help him in helping Zoe. That means she can be helped, right?”
“You think he knows where she is?” I ask. “Or what happened to her?”
Jaxon shrugs. “He might. Or he might…I hate to say it. He might be manipulating you. If he somehow knows you would do anything to get Zoey back, he could be hoping that she is the motivation you need to do whatever it is he needs you to do.”
“That’s a possibility,” I say. “I’ve wondered if the statue is using me. Like, what if he’s some kind of evil fae or black magic witch or something?”
“That’s one of the reasons we brought you in, Jaxon,” Ivy says. “As an earth witch, we thought you might have some answers that we don’t.”
“Oh,” he says. “I thought you guys were actually my friends.”
“We are,” I say, laying my hand on his forearm. He smiles down at me, and my stomach quivers. I clear my throat to go on. “But this is kind of like when we made the potion. We all need each other to figure this out.”
“Well, only one thing to do, then,” Jaxon says. “We better wake him up.”
He stretches his arms, pops his knuckles, and widens his stance.
“Get ready, kids.”
Chapter 22
“Was…was something supposed to happen?” I ask as Jaxon continues to stand in front of the statue, his hands extended clawlike in front of him, straining as if in great exertion.
Finally, he sighs and drops his arms.
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he says. “I should be able to manipulate the marble. I thought that if I did, it would force him to respond in some way. But I can’t move him at all.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Jaxon scratches his head. “Well, it could be that whoever made him put some very strong wards on him that would prevent another witch from messing with it.”
“The artist mentioned in the textbook?” I ask.
“I guess,” Jaxon says. “But that was a long time ago. The guy has to be dead.”
“Would the wards still be active after the witch is dead?” I ask.
“That’s complicated,” Ivy says. “It’s possible. But for every magic spell, there is a counter.”
“So, if he put a ward on the statue,” I say, “we should be able to find a counterspell?”
“In theory,” Ivy says. “But…as I said, it’s complicated.”
“Some witches are powerful enough to create their own spells, and, thus, the counterspells,” Krista says. “Like my gran. So he could have taken both spells to the grave with him.”
“That’s crazy, though,” Jaxon says. “The creator wasn’t some all-powerful super witch. He was a talented artist, but he wasn’t even a Legacy. If he was as powerful as that, we’d know more about him. He would have been a leader in the earth coven.”
“I’m not supposed to be powerful, either,” I say, “but I have the weird sight that Giselle and Zoey might have had. Maybe he did too. Maybe people thought he was eccentric, but he really had the sight.”
“So what do we do?” Krista asks. “Start looking into the creator? Try to discover if he used a spell?”
I groan and rub my forehead. “It feels like that would be starting over. And this is all supposition. We don’t know if that’s what’s even going on.”
“Madison is right,” Jaxon says. “The thing about the ward is that it’s only one possibility. I mean, it could be that the statue is…alive. And that he is fighting me.”
“You mean he doesn’t want to be woken up?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Jaxon says. “Maybe I’m just not strong enough. Like I said, I have no idea. The possibilities are endless.”
I sigh and close my eyes. I take a few steps around, trying to calm my mind. I kick a stone into the wall and growl under my breath.
“So close!” I say. “I feel like we are so close but so far from the answer. We have to be able to do something! Zoey’s life depends on it!”
“Then let’s brainstorm,” Ivy says. “If this isn’t the answer, what else can we do? What other clues have there been? Is there anything else you haven’t told us?”
“I don’t know,” I mumble, shaking my head. I’ve told so many lies and half truths and kept so many things close to my chest, that I don’t know what I’ve told them and what I haven’t.
“The man in the hedge,” Krista says. “What was that about?”
“What?” Ivy asks. “What man in the hedge?”
“The night that I hurt my head,” I tell them, “I had heard Mr. Stewart and two other people talking in a dark hallway about the statues and the hedge. The next day, I took a walk outside and went along the hedge. When I reached inside to retrieve a lost ball, someone stepped on my arm.”
“That’s creepy,” Ivy says. “Any idea who it was?”
I shake my head. “I just screamed and pulled my arm back. I never saw anyone in there.”
“Was it Mr. Stewart?” Jaxon asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “What makes you ask that?”
“You said you heard him talking about the hedge just the night before.”
“We’ve seen him in the hedge before,” Krista says. “Burning Giselle’s papers.”
“You’re right.” I press my lips together a moment before continuing. “He might have been able to explain that away, but the fact that he was in the hedge again is too much of a coincidence. That and…”
“What?” Ivy pushes. “No more secrets.”
“He’s the one who hit me over the head,” I say, my hand instinctively going to the tender lump on the back of my head.
“What the hell?” Jaxon asks, his nostrils flaring. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I…I don’t know,” I say. “I guess I was scared. Confused.”
“A professor attacked a student,” Jaxon says. “We can’t let that stand. If nothing else, he needs to be dismissed. We should alert Ms. Brewster and all the coven elders.”
I nod, chewing on my thumb. I know it’s the right thing to do, but something is pulling me back. I remember how he also told me to stop looking for Zoey. To keep my nose out of it.
“I think he knows where Zoey is,” I say. “It’s been right in front of my face the whole time. I don’t know why I didn’t want to see it.”
“Because we’re taught to respect our elders,” Ivy says, rubbing my back. “We aren’t taught to question authority, much less make accusations about them.”
“I’ve accused him of misdeeds before,” I say. “If I’m wrong about this, I’m sure I’ll be the one who gets dismissed. Besides, before he hit me over the head, he wasn’t alone. There were two other people with him, women I think. What if…what if all the teachers are involved?”
“Like a conspiracy?” Krista asks, her right eyebrow lifting. She rubs her hands together excitedly. “This is getting juicy.”
“Maybe for you,” I say. “But Giselle is dead. This is dangerous.”
“But Ms. Boucher killed Giselle,” Ivy says, “and she’s gone.”
“Which just makes me think this is all connected,” I say. “It’s bigger than any one person or one mystery. Giselle, Zoey, the statues, me. They are all smaller parts of a much bigger puzzle.”
“Well, for now, we know at least one piece of the puzzle,” Jaxon says. “Mr. Stewart. He attacked you. We at least need to confront him, possibly take him down and find out what he knows about Zoey. No sense in waiting. We don’t have to have all the pieces to see the whole picture.”
I nod slowly, but I’m not convinced.
“Jaxo
n is right,” Ivy says, leaving no room for argument in her tone. “If anyone knows anything, it’s Mr. Stewart. Let’s go see him.”
The others seem more gung ho about doing this than I am. My heart is racing. For some reason, the dangers seem much more real to me than to them. Even though they know Giselle was killed, they don’t seem to think it could happen to any of us.
We march in a line toward Mr. Stewart’s office, and I feel relief wash over me when we discover he’s not there.
“Great,” Krista says, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. “Now what?”
“Maybe it’s a sign,” I say, keeping my voice low. “We need to really think about this. Make sure we have all our ducks in a row before—”
“Before what?”
We all turn and face Ms. Brewster, her hands folded in front of her, her face stern as always.
“We were just looking for Mr. Stewart,” Ivy says. “Class…stuff.”
Ms. Brewster raises an eyebrow just a bit. “Well, I’m sure he is around here somewhere. If you wait, he will return soon.”
“This can’t wait,” Jaxon says. “Ms. Brewster, you need to know that Mr. Stewart attacked Madison.”
“What?” She gasps, turning to me. “Is this true, Madison?”
“I-I-I think so,” I say. “Someone hit me over the head. I didn’t see his face, but I heard his voice. It’s pretty distinct.”
“But it could have been someone else who hit you?” she prods, and I can’t help but nod. “Well, I think all of you should return to your rooms for the time being. I’ll speak with Mr. Stewart and come find you all later.”
“Yes, Ms. Brewster,” everyone mumbles, but no one moves. I think we all want to know what she plans to do.
She raises an eyebrow, practically ordering us to our rooms without a word, and we all slink off toward the stairwell with me taking up the rear.
There’s something bothering me, but I don’t know what it is. I walk slowly, trying to reach the little voice inside of me and hear what it thinks I should do.