by Kelley York
It’s a slow walk; William—or whatever has control of William—either is in no big hurry or hasn’t the capability of hurrying. He leads us across the grounds, behind Gawain Hall, and the further we go the more my heart sinks because I know where he’s taking us. The only thing so far back on the grounds is the cemetery.
Thankfully, he doesn’t go directly to the gates, but stops twenty or thirty feet away from them, and then lifts a hand and points. That’s it. He stands and he points, unmoving, unblinking.
I move in front of William. From over his shoulder, I see Benjamin and the others jogging our way. Backup is good, and Edwin has a blanket in hand. I cup William’s face, which has gone from unbearably hot to deathly cold, in my hands. “Darling, can you hear me? We need to get you back inside. We’ve seen what you wanted to show us.” For however little sense it makes to me. I would rather have William back than have a ghost utilizing him like some sort of puppet.
Those must have been the magic words. William blinks once, twice, again, and his eyes clear back to their familiar blue, and the colour returns to his face. He begins to crumple, but my close proximity allows me to get my arms around him so that he can steady himself before he hits the ground.
I cannot help the whimper that escapes my mouth. “Oh, thank God. Are you all right?”
He clutches at me, disoriented as he casts a look around. “Yes? What’s happened?”
“You passed out with a horrible fever, and then you got up and led us out here.”
Edwin, who has stopped several feet away, lingers until Benjamin snatches the blanket from him and hurries over to unfurl it and get it around William’s shoulders. William straightens up slowly, gaining his bearings back and tugging the blanket securely about himself as the cold seems to be registering.
“I…I don’t remember any of that.”
“Let’s get him back inside before we get him sicker,” Virgil says, and that sounds like a grand idea to me.
By the time we’ve ushered William inside, upstairs and into my room, he’s walking just fine on his own. Most importantly, his fever has vanished, and he appears to be perfectly coherent and no worse for wear. I do promptly urge him to get out of his sopping wet clothes and into one of my nightshirts. He begins this process looking mildly embarrassed to be doing so with an audience, and with me insisting on helping him.
I should be more aware of the others, of the fact that I’m hovering too close to William, fussing over him too much, but I cannot help it. He gave me a terrible fright, and the fact that he remembers none of it is alarming in and of itself.
“So, we think one of the spirits, what, possessed him?” Edwin asks. He’s been eyeing William like he has the plague since we came in, and it’s starting to irritate me.
“To show us the cemetery,” Virgil adds. While the other three have taken a seat upon Oscar’s bed, Virgil has sat in one of the chairs at the small table, which is still scattered with papers and books from my exam studying. “What’s so special about the cemetery?”
“We know at least some of the ghosts’ bodies are buried there,” William says. Now that he’s properly dressed, I wrap the blanket back around his shoulders, ignoring the muttering he does under his breath that I’m worrying too much. I direct him into my bed beneath the covers and have a seat on the edge.
I add, “The original headmaster of the school is interred there, as well.”
“The one you said burned to death?” Benjamin asks.
“From what I’ve heard, yes. I suspect he’s the creature I encountered in the tunnels. He looked like charred remains, and he seemed afraid of fire.”
“If the other spirits are afraid of him, then it’d make sense for them to try to lead us to where he’s buried,” says Preston. All of us turn our attention to him, waiting to see why, precisely, he thinks that makes sense. The sudden looks make him smile a little embarrassedly. “My aunt—the medium, remember—she would say when an evil spirit is restless, cremating the remains and scattering the ashes keeps it from being able to manifest itself. Used to think she was a bit batty, but…”
“That’s completely mad,” Edwin grumbles.
Burning the remains. It does sound insane, but what about this entire thing hasn’t? I’m also neglecting to see any other options. But my friends will be leaving tomorrow to go home, and this might be too much for even dear William to stomach doing.
William sighs. “The new dilemma we’re presented with, then, is how to dig up a grave on school grounds without getting caught.”
I look askance at him, both grateful and surprised. “You would help me dig up a grave?”
“I’m almost offended you should ask me that. Haven’t I helped with everything else thus far?”
A smile pulls at my mouth, and I reach out to rest a hand atop one of his. To hell with who bears witness to it. If they don’t know there lingers something between William and I by now, then they’re utterly blind.
“After tomorrow, the school will be empty,” Virgil says. “Even most of the faculty and staff will be leaving. Really, there will only be a bare skeleton crew and a scant few students left.”
“What of the headmaster?”
“Hard to say. But, you know, he typically leaves in the evenings anyway, so if nothing else…”
“It grants me some time to do this.” At night, which is not at all preferable. Being so alone on school grounds with King and the ghosts that seem to be growing more and more restless and dangerous? If I am going to attempt to take Preston’s advice, it will need to happen sooner rather than later. At least we’ve been blessed with Charles’ absence; one less thing to worry about.
I run my hands over my face. “It’s getting late, and the lot of you have travelling to do tomorrow. Please, go and get some rest.”
They reluctantly look to each other before getting to their feet. As I escort them out the room, Benjamin and Preston linger, and Preston asks, “Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?”
“I’m not alone. I have William with me.”
Preston laughs softly. “I meant someone to look after you, not the other way around.”
I smile, and it isn’t insincere. “You’d be surprised how much he looks after me.”
After they’ve gone, I close the door, leaning against it and breathing in deep.
I startle at a hand against my back, turning to William as he peers, concerned, into my face. He looks so drastically different than he did a mere two hours ago; his cheeks are rosy, and his eyes are bright. Healthy and alert like I have not known him to be since—well, maybe since ever, if I’m truthful. It’s as though he was never ill to begin with.
“Are you well?” he softly inquires.
The smile on my face this time is gentler. “We will end all of this, and then I will be.”
“You’re not planning on doing anything without me, are you?”
“I’m not certain this is something I can do alone,” I admit, turning towards him and taking both of his hands in my own.
William leans in, resting his head against my shoulder. “A good thing you won’t be alone then, hm?”
I press my cheek against his head with a sigh. “A very good thing.”
We linger there for a moment before William presses his lips to my neck and pulls back. “Come now. Let’s get some rest. I anticipate tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”
Have we had a day recently that hasn’t felt long? I give his hand a squeeze and release it, so that William can crawl back into bed and I can get changed before joining him.
William curls neatly up at my side in a position that has become familiar and comfortable to me. He draws the blankets up around us and rests his hand upon my chest, over my heart, and kisses my mouth with such gentleness that it melts away much of the night’s tension.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips. “You know that, don’t you?”
Oh, the way my heart stumbles over a beat. “Do you?”
&nbs
p; “With all my heart,” he says, and I wish he would smile at me like that forever. “You and I, we are going to solve all of this, leave this miserable school, and spend the rest of our lives getting to wake up beside each other.”
I gaze at him adoringly. This ridiculous man never ceases to amaze me with the things he says and does. I push myself up, pressing William back onto the bed, leaning over him and bowing down to kiss him solidly. “I love you,” I murmur. “More than I can begin to say, my darling William.”
He makes the softest of sounds, a blend between a sigh and a whimper, putting his arms around me to hold me right where I am. “Say that to me always.”
The subtle way he shifts beneath me has me going still, pulse kicking up a notch. This might ordinarily be the point wherein I pull away and lie down, simply hold him while we fall asleep. Yet instead, I find myself settling atop of him, able to feel the lines of his body against my own through the fabric of our nightshirts, and immensely enjoying the way it makes him shudder. “The darling William part?”
His breath has hitched in his throat, and his hips arch, searching for further friction from mine. “That, too. But the I love you bit is quite nice.”
“I love you,” I say again, thinking I’m happy to repeat it as often as he wishes to hear it. Just to be able to finally speak the words aloud, to have him speak them to me… I’m suddenly desperate to have my hands all over him and find myself tugging up his nightshirt to splay my fingers out over his ribs and up over his chest.
For the first time, it’s William who stops me. “James, if you’re doing this because you’re concerned about what awaits us tomorrow…”
I draw back enough to peer down at him. “I’m so tired of my life being determined by everyone else. I want to do what I want to do. And this is something I’ve wanted to do for quite some time.”
His expression softens, and he strokes his fingers down the length of my jaw. “Well, far be it for me to protest.”
“I didn’t think that you would.”
William takes a moment to slip out of his nightshirt, and before I can quite comprehend what’s happened, we’ve both shed our clothes, and William has his mouth against my neck, my collarbone, his hands skimming down my sides and around to my back. He mumbles another I love you into the curve of my throat that makes me shiver.
I’m not certain I could express to him the way that makes me feel. I kiss him instead, deep and full of want, wishing to convey to him all the things that no amount of poetry in the world could convey. The way William clings to me, the sighs he makes against my mouth as his fingertips glide across my back as though he can still feel the remnants of my lashing, and the arch of his body as he rocks up against me…he’s perfect. This ridiculously flawed, difficult, beautiful man is absolutely perfect and everything I could have wanted or needed. I could kick myself for having waited so long to do this, for every time that I wanted to touch him and refrained because I was afraid.
I don’t know what awaits us tomorrow, but for tonight, I will think only of William and the press of his thighs against my sides and his hands in my hair, and I will hold onto my happiness.
Sleep comes surprisingly well. I choose to skip breakfast, preferring to lie there with my limbs tangled with William’s, head against his chest and listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. From the halls comes the commotion of students hurriedly packing and leaving, and it dawns on me that this school holiday is very much different than the last.
For a month, the school will be void of life. Assuming we get through our endeavour, William and I, too, will be taking our leave to return to his family’s home. I’d be lying if I tried to say it has not crossed my mind simply taking him and leaving now. To depart Whisperwood and, preferably, never return. Were it not for Oscar, maybe I could even talk myself into that, for William’s sake if nothing else.
Not only that, but when everyone returns, it will be to begin the next school year. The lot of us will have moved into the fourth-year hall, and I will be given a new roommate. William and I will have to resort to sneaking around all over again, and my new roommate may not be as kind about covering for me. The thought makes me sigh heavily.
I doze off and on until William begins to stir. Even when he wakes, he says nothing, and he busies himself sliding his hands through my hair, trailing his fingertips down my neck and back in ways that make me shiver delightfully.
Eventually he says, “We should be getting up if you want to bid the others goodbye.”
“Working on it,” I mumble, tipping my head to leave a few open-mouthed kisses along his throat.
“Not productive.” He sighs, head leaning back. “We’ve slept through breakfast.”
“We have.”
“Are you hungry?”
I cannot help but grin against his neck, nipping playfully at the skin there. “I think I just might be.”
He laughs, soft and warm, and gives my shoulder a gentle shove. “Have I created a monster?”
I roll up onto an elbow and lean over him, catching his eyes with my own and sliding a hand up and over his chest, up to cup the side of his face. The manner in which I settle myself between his thighs makes him suck in a breath, long lashes lowering. “You just might have,” I say, and lean in to kiss him deeply.
If everything goes wrong, if everything ends horribly, if this is the last day I spend in this school or on this earth, I want to go out remembering this. Us. Just as we are, and how I’ve found at least one perfect thing in my life.
William and I are able to catch lunch together, just barely. The meal selection is meagre compared to our usual, but there is enough to go around for those who are left. Preston and the others are absent, and I dread to think we’ve missed bidding them farewell. Though surely, they’d have come to my room to say goodbye.
Unless they didn’t want to. Maybe after last night, they thought it too much. Too strange. Too dangerous.
I really don’t want to broach the topic, thought I know it needs to be addressed. After he’s finished eating, I turn to William. “I think we should do it tonight. The school will be empty, and the headmaster will likely be gone.”
William breathes in deep and nods once. “I know. Why don’t you head back to Gawain? Say goodbye to your friends. I’ll join you shortly and we’ll formulate a plan.”
As loath as I am to let him out of my sight, I remind myself it’s still daylight. I give him a small smile, a squeeze of his arm, and excuse myself from the table.
The weather smells thickly of rain. Unsurprising, as this time of year it’s stranger to not have rain, and I think it may make digging tonight easier. A million concerns are cascading through my mind. We need shovels, for one. Is William physically up to digging up a grave? How long will it take? I cannot say I’ve ever had cause to dig such a hole before.
It also dawns on me that dear old Nicholas will not much like us disturbing his remains.
In the dorms, I steal a look into Preston and Benjamin’s room. They aren’t present, but their belongings are still packed and readied on their beds, so they clearly haven’t left yet. When I cross down to my own room, the door is half-opened, and I hear their voices before I’ve stepped inside.
Benjamin, Preston, and Virgil are all waiting, and turn to look at me when I arrive. I smile easily. “What’s all this? Come to give me teary goodbyes? I promise, we’ve only a few weeks before we’ll be together again.”
Preston pockets his hands. “Yes, well, about that. We aren’t going home.”
I blink, unsure I’ve heard him right. “Sorry?”
“We’re staying to help,” Benjamin says.
I stare at the two of them before turning my attention to Virgil, who only sighs and rolls his shoulders back into a shrug. “My family will forgive me if I’m a few days late in returning home.”
A lump forms in my throat and I swallow hard. “You do realise the dangers of this.”
“All the more reason you and Esher shouldn’t
embark on this alone,” Benjamin says. “This is for Frances, too. He was our friend, and we owe it to him to find out the truth of what happened.”
“I take it Edwin didn’t agree with that.”
Preston’s smile is tight enough that I suspect he’s not pleased about that. “Not all people are made sturdy enough to handle this sort of thing, I suppose.”
It hardly matters. What does matter is that these three are incredible, and whatever tonight throws at us, I think together, we can overcome it. I feel guilty for ever having doubted them, and for having been so reluctant to trust Virgil after all the assistance he’s provided. “Well, then, I don’t suppose any of you have ever had to dig a grave?”
Preston says, “Not a grave, but plenty of holes. Put a shovel in my hands and I can manage.”
“How long do you suspect it will take?”
“Depends on how deep the body was buried, and how much the rain has permeated the ground. Wet is easier to dig, but too wet means we’ll be fighting against mud and water filling up around us.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Two or three hours, if we switch off when one of us tires,” Benjamin offers. “Once it goes deep enough, only one person will be capable of digging at a time.”
I take a seat on my bed, elbows upon my knees. “That’s manageable.”
For the next forty-five minutes, we discuss our plan of action, our concerns, our thoughts. I’ve begun to worry about William’s whereabouts when the door opens, and he steps in.
And with him, Mr. Hart and Mr. McLachlan.
We all stand abruptly, tension flooding over every one of us. William holds up a hand as though that simple gesture will calm me. “They’re here to help.”
Was this the reason he sent me back here alone? So he could approach them? It could have gone poorly, and I’m a touch annoyed he would have done such a thing without at least warning me. “Really.” I turn my attention to the teachers. “You two are truly going to risk your jobs to help us desecrate a grave?”