by A. L. Knorr
I paused at the door of one classroom and lit a ball of flame in my palm, sending the shadows skittering back. Moving closer to the nearest window for a better look, the light from my fire revealed metal sheeting with small perforations. It had dropped from a recess in the frame at the top. The glass was protected by the metal sheeting from the outside.
“Don’t dally, please.” Krispy stood at the door, waiting for me.
“Sorry. Just curious.” I hurried back to join Gage in the hall.
“The academy has an excellent security system.” Krispy followed us down the hall toward the cafeteria, like a good sheepdog. “Can’t be all that surprising given the nature of what is taught here. Do you really think Basil would host a bunch of supernatural kids without any thought to their safety?”
I rolled my eyes at her self-righteous tone.
“Of course not.” Gage sounded as annoyed as I felt.
We arrived at the cafeteria as the guests settled at tables or in the couches that had been brought together in a mish mash on a wide space of carpet. The furniture here wasn’t nearly so well looked after as in other rooms. Probably because kids ate here. Over the years all the mashed fries, spilled soft drinks, and dribbled sauces ruined the upholstery.
“There’s a couple free couches.” Gage pointed to a cluster of comfy looking furniture close to a corner of the lounge.
We went over and sat down in one of the loveseats. I spotted Chad and Ryan standing near the lineup to get food. I guess they’d begun serving lunch early to keep people from getting antsy. One thing was true about teenagers, supernatural or not, any opportunity to eat was enthusiastically taken.
“What do you think is going on?” I pulled my feet up under me and looked at Gage.
He leaned his elbows on his knees, observing the general hubbub. “Maybe it’s just a false alarm.”
One of the nearby couches held two girls. I recognized one as April even though she had her back to me, that slender neck and those pigtails were a unique pairing in this crowd. I didn’t know the girl sitting with April. She had black hair cropped into a short bob and was up to her elbows rooting through a bag.
“I had it with me this morning,” she was saying as she pulled things out and lay them in her lap. “It’s weird. I went to put it on and couldn’t find it. Strange, because I only picked it up from the shop yesterday. I never lose things, especially clothes.”
April watched as the girl tore through her bag. “Someone might have grabbed it thinking it was theirs. I mean, there’s only three or four designs. It could have happened by accident.”
“Probably.” But the other girl didn’t sound convinced. She sounded upset.
“Excuse me.” I leaned back against the back of the couch to look past Gage. “What did you lose?”
The girl with the bob looked over her shoulder. “My academy shirt. It’s brand new. I hadn’t even taken the tags off yet.”
“Where did you see it last?”
It was laying on top of a couple of boxes I still have to unpack.” She frowned. “It was there when I went to bed last night. I’m sure of it.”
A warning bell rang high and clear in my mind. “Was it the button-down one with the small gold crest embroidered over the heart?”
She nodded, brightening. “Have you seen it?”
I didn’t want to give the girl hope, in case I was wrong. “No, but I’ll ask around.”
The optimism drained from her expression as she nodded and turned back to her bag.
I scanned the cafeteria and lounge for the kid in the ill-fitting button-up shirt I’d seen before the fair had begun. He wasn’t in the room.
Leaning close to Gage, I said. “All the people who were at the fair are supposed to be here.”
“Yeah. Why?”
I chewed my lip, thinking. “Someone is missing.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know his name, I just saw him this morning in front of Ryan, in line. I only remember him because his shirt looked way too small.”
Gage’s gaze sharpened and he pitched his voice low. “You think he took that girl’s shirt?”
“Maybe. I remember thinking that it was weird for a new top to fit so badly. It had crease marks in it, the kind a shirt gets sitting folded on a shelf for a long time,” I whispered. “He might have snuck into her room and stolen it.”
Gage’s eyes widened. “To impersonate a student? Get into the fair?”
“Maybe.” I scanned the room again for the boy. No dice.
“He would have needed an invitation, too.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Would an invitation have been that hard to get? I heard there’s a lot of magi invited who never came.”
Gage nodded slowly, studying my face. “Should we tell someone?”
I straightened and put a hand on Gage’s forearm when the tall kid wandered in. He walked nonchalantly into the cafeteria from the main hall. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets as he stayed close to the wall and made his way to the back of the food line.
I squeezed Gage and whispered. “That’s him. Look at the way he’s looking around. Like he doesn’t want anyone to notice him. He might as well have ‘Dodgy Chap’ written across his forehead in red ink.”
“You’re right, that shirt doesn’t fit him right at all. In fact,” Gage cocked his head to the side, “it looks like a ladies cut.”
“I’m going to go talk to him.” I got up from the couch.
“Wait,” Gage hissed. I felt his hand graze mine but didn’t stop.
Weaving between tables and chairs, I made my way casually to the back of the line. Gage hadn’t followed, but stood frozen by the loveseat, looking around as though trying to decide who to approach for help, or if it was even a good idea.
Stepping behind the kid, I got a better view of just how badly fitting the shirt was. He had to be the thief.
“Smells good.” I swayed forward a little to make sure he could hear me.
The kid jumped and looked back.
A close-up view revealed that he wasn’t as young as he looked from a distance. He was slender with soft cheeks that appeared juvenile, but close up he had an impressive five o’clock shadow and fine lines bracketing his mouth and lining his forehead. He had to be mid-twenties. So, if he wasn’t a student, or a volunteer, or a graduate, or a teacher … then who was he?
“Yeah, I’m starving.” His gaze closed up like a desert cactus at night as he faced front, dismissing me.
“I was wondering where you got that button-up from.” I stepped forward as the line shuffled ahead.
“The shop.” He didn’t turn around. His shoulders tightened and shrank in on themselves. He was so uncomfortable I could almost see stress leaking out of him.
“Are you sure you got the men’s version?” I kept my voice calm but my fingers curled into fists.
The glare he shot over his shoulder froze my blood, sharp and venomous, like a poison dart. For a second I forgot to breathe.
“What’s it to you?” he hissed, this time he did turn all the way around and loomed over me.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Gage cross to where Krispy stood inside the doorway. How had she missed this guy coming into the cafeteria so much later than everyone else, anyway?
The guy’s gaze twitched from my face to over my head where I knew Gage was talking with Krispy. His eyes widened and filled with alarm. Whirling, he slipped out of line and headed for the kitchen.
I followed as he disappeared through the kitchen door. Catching only a flash of the ill-fitting shirt as he went through a rear exit at the back of the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of the surprised expressions of three cooks as they labored over steaming pots in their shining, stainless steel universe.
I wondered how the guy knew where he was going as I slipped across the sterile ceramic tiles. He moved with a surety that said he’d been here before. A graduate then? Someone with a vendetta from his school years? Or was he even a mage? I hadn’t seen any pr
oof of fire, not even when he’d sent me that noxious look.
No one tried to stop me as I slipped through the back door and took the only option offered—a set of steps leading up and ending abruptly with another closed door. The guy had already disappeared through the door, even though I’d been right behind him. I hadn’t even heard the sound of the door closing.
He could move fast. Supernatural-fast. Okay, so maybe he was a mage. Pausing halfway up the stairs I had a moment of intense inner conflict. Should I go back for help? What would I face if I cornered him? But if I didn’t pursue, I’d lose him.
A second voice reminded me that I was Burned. I had a level of fire-power that only one other person in the academy possessed: Basil himself. Who else besides one of us had a better chance of catching and detaining this guy? No one. Since Basil was goodness knew where, and going back just felt wrong, I continued on.
Opening the door at the top revealed a narrow hall lit by high vertical windows. The hall went in both directions. To my right it was lined with cupboards and ended where a painting of a lone figure on hill with a peeling frame hung. To my left were more cupboards and a thin hallway ending in a closed door. Listening like a bird-dog, I froze, every joint locked.
The distant creak of an aged floorboard was all I needed to sprint in the direction of the painting. The hall turned right then left again before short set of steps connected to a broader and better dressed hall. Muttering curses, I realized he could be in any classroom, any unlocked bedroom, any office or common room along this hall. If he’d even come this way. The creak could have been the complaints of a three-hundred-year-old building, but I didn’t think so.
Spherical emergency lights glimmered from the seam between the wall and the ceiling, illuminating the hall like it was my own personal runway. A haunted runway. The blue-white light leeched all the color out of the place, making the shadows blacker, turning the wallpaper to oxblood red and making every piece of artwork come to haunted life.
My sneakers padded silently on the carpet as I cocked my head, hoping for another creaky floorboard. A classroom divided from the hallway by several windows allowed me a glimpse of the shutters, which reminded me that the academy was in lockdown.
Whoever the guy was and whatever he wanted here, he was as locked inside the manor as the rest of us were. Plenty of places to hide but no way out.
Four
The Hunt
I had another internal feud standing in that dark hallway. Either I could continue to search on my own, or I could go get help. It was the murmur of voices from up the stairs which set me to moving again. I recognized the tenor of Basil’s voice.
I went in the direction Basil’s office. I’d never seen it, but I knew it was on the second floor and not far from the second set of steps beyond the front lobby.
A broad figure appeared from around a corner beyond the voices. The emergency lights bled all the living color out of Tyson Hupelo’s wide face.
“What are you doing here? You should be in the cafeteria with the rest of the students.” The Fire Science prof approached and put a hand on my shoulder, gently steering me back toward the stairs. His tone was kind but insistent. “Back you go. We’ve got the situation under control.”
“I’ve seen the intruder.” I wanted to press back against his hand but didn’t think it was a good idea to resist a teacher too hard.
Tyson stopped and turned toward me, heavy brows lifting. His too-warm hand stayed settled on my shoulder but he stopped trying to turn me around. “You sure?”
“I want to tell Headmaster Chaplin what he looks like.”
Drawn by our voices, a head popped out of an open door across the landing. I didn’t recognize the man but when his gaze fell on me, something in his face said he knew who I was. He waved a hand, beckoning Tyson and me inside, then vanished.
A copper plate on the door pronounced the headmaster’s office and curiosity rose in me as Mr. Hupelo and I stepped inside.
It was a place where inquisitive types like me could spend days. Bookshelves stuffed with old and new titles, paintings, maps and domes of glass covering columns of metal and rock and other oddities. Drawings, paintings and photos crammed the silk-covered walls. Glass cases with odd items interspersed with paint-chipped radiators—unnecessary for a fire mage—gave the room an air of decades, perhaps centuries, of conversations long past.
Headmaster Chaplin leaned against the front of a heavy wooden desk while the other man sat perched on the arm of a threadbare sofa.
I expected Basil to look reproachful at seeing me where I shouldn’t be, but instead he introduced me to the stranger in the tweed.
“Alfred, meet Saxony.” Mr. Chaplin waved a hand without moving away from the desk. “Saxony this is Professor Knight. He’ll be an instructor of yours this year. I know I told you I’d manage all your practical coaching myself, but recent developments mean I have less time than I anticipated. I’ve brought on Alfred to help out.”
Professor Knight reached out a hand, his eyes twinkled from above a well-kept mustache and goatee. I shook his hand and my arm flared to my heart with a mage-bond. I smiled when I felt it. It was good to know I shared a bond with someone who would be instructing me.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Likewise.” He gave a nod and released my hand.
“She says she can identify the intruder,” Mr. Hupelo said from where he stood by the door, arms crossed.
“Is that so?” Mr. Chaplin straightened.
“Yeah.” I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I threaded my fingers together to keep from fidgeting. “A man who looks like a student from a distance, but up close he looks mid-twenties. He’s wearing an academy button-up that doesn’t fit. I’m pretty sure he stole it from a girl’s room. I overheard her complaining that her shirt was missing.”
“How do you know he’s not a volunteer for the fair?” Tyson left his place at the door and came to stand by Professor Knight. “Some guys like wearing tight shirts.”
At this, Basil covered his mouth with his fingers. I wondered if he was hiding a smile.
I faced Tyson. “Not this tight, the sleeves are about to pop open, and not a feminine cut. Also, when I confronted him, he ran away. I went after him but he got away. He’s fast.”
Basil lost his smile and his eyes popped. “You chased him?”
“Of course she chased him, Basil. It’s obvious he’s our thief.” Professor Knight gave Basil a long-suffering look. Based on that I guessed they’d been friends a long time. I also appreciated Alfred’s comment.
But the way Alfred had said thief gave me an idea that they weren’t just talking about the button-up. “He stole something else?”
“From this very office.” Basil’s look of incredulity was gone now. He moved away from his desk. “I need it back.”
“I followed him to this floor, not more than three minutes ago. He couldn’t be far,” I said, my heart picking up speed.
“I’ll take the third floor.” Tyson moved toward the door. “Alfred take the second, that leaves Basil with the first.”
“What about me? I’d like to help.”
The men exchanged a look but none of those looks appeared to be in agreement. The headmaster frowned, Professor Hupelo was about to ask a question, and Professor Knight looked fully in support of the idea, downright chipper that I’d suggested it.
“Go back to the cafeteria, Saxony.” Basil said. “He might be dangerous. I can’t have my students running around after an intruder. It’s bad enough that the break-in even happened. I should have known the Fire Fair would make the school vulnerable.” Basil rubbed his fingers across his forehead as though a headache was blooming there.
I wilted but turned to go. The headmaster had spoken.
“Wait.” Professor Knight put up a hand. “If what you’ve told me about her is true, this is a perfect opportunity for her and I to begin her instruction. She can accompany me searching the second floor.”
<
br /> Headmaster Chaplin let out a sigh when he saw the way I lit up.
I tried and failed to keep the pleading tone out of my voice. “I won’t do anything rash, I promise. If we find him, I’ll let Professor Knight take the lead.”
Tyson murmured: “We could use some help, Headmaster. I’ve already texted Wanda, but the building is big and there are a million places to hide.” He nodded his head in my direction. “She is the one who identified him.”
Basil sighed. “Fine. But stay with Professor Knight.”
I nodded and followed Alfred to the door, heart jumping with elation.
“Any chance we can switch off these emergency lights and get this place properly illuminated?” Alfred asked Basil at the doorway. “It’s like a tomb in here.”
Basil nodded. “I’ll message security.”
With that we broke apart. I followed Alfred as we took the hallway past three locked classrooms. Crossing over a landing, we took a hall dividing a block of girl’s bedrooms.
Alfred tested the doors on the left while I tried the doors on the right. If a room was open, it took a moment or two to check the bathroom, under the bed, and the closet.
The building had been a convalescent home for soldiers in World War II, had briefly been a convent, and had been outfitted and used as a hotel in the seventies and eighties, managed by Basil’s father. The larger rooms were shared between two students, but there were as many singles.
When we finished with the girl’s rooms we crossed over a banistered stairwell to search the boy’s block.
At the soft sound of a door closing, I froze, the hair on my forearms lifting. Alfred and I shared a glance, he put a finger to his lips.
Either a student had snuck out of the cafeteria, a window was open somewhere making suction … or our intruder had closed a door.
From the landing, two hallways branched, looping around to meet at the next wing. Alfred signaled with his head that I should take one hallway and he would take the other. Apparently, my new prof had more faith in my skills than Basil, or he had a higher level of comfort with students in the way of potential danger. Either way, I felt emboldened.