by J. A. White
“I find it hard to believe that people would voluntarily choose to live here,” he said, removing his overcoat and laying it carefully over his chair. “Penguins, maybe. But not people.”
“Not all penguins live in cold climates,” Agnes said. “There’s actually one species that lives on the Galápagos Islands.”
Darius sat down and gave Agnes an amused look. “And who are you, exactly?”
“My name is Agnes Matheson, Mr. Shadow. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She reached out and shook his hand.
“Polite,” Darius said. “That’s refreshing in your generation.” He nodded toward Benji. “The boy from the attic, correct?”
“Benji.”
“All right, then,” Darius said, rubbing his hands together. “You were very convincing on the phone, Cordelia. ‘We need to talk to you. It’s a matter of life and death!’ Now what’s this all about?”
Cordelia took a deep breath. Dr. Roqueni had warned her not to trust her uncle. But Dr. Roqueni wasn’t here. And they needed all the help they could get. “I can see ghosts,” she said.
“Me too,” added Benji.
“Not me,” Agnes said. “But I do have these special—”
Cordelia nudged her leg beneath the table. They needed Darius’s help, but that didn’t mean they had to tell him everything.
“I see,” Darius said, folding his arms across his chest. If he was surprised by their revelation, he was doing a good job hiding it. “Let’s assume I believe you. Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Dr. Roqueni needs your help, and we don’t know anyone else who knows about the ghosts except you,” Cordelia said. “Remember how you said she wasn’t acting like herself last summer? You were right. She’s possessed. Most of our teachers are.”
“And we were thinking, since you’re, like, a ghost expert,” Benji said, “you’ve probably seen this sort of thing before. So maybe you know a special way to stop them. Is there something that will keep ghosts from jumping into a person’s body? What about garlic?”
“That’s vampires,” Agnes whispered.
“Or holy water?”
“Still vampires.”
“Or silver?”
“Werewolves,” Agnes said. “And sometimes vampires.”
“Exactly,” Benji said, snapping his fingers. “Like those things, but to stop ghosts from possessing people.”
Darius stared at them, dumbfounded. “Ghosts can possess people?”
“His answer doesn’t fill me with confidence,” Agnes said.
“Is Aria in some kind of danger?” Darius asked.
“Big-time,” Cordelia said. “We were hoping you could help.”
Darius pulled his chair closer to the table. Its feet scraped against the floor. “Tell me more,” he said.
“Give us a second,” Cordelia said.
She pulled her friends to the other side of the store for a whisper-filled huddle. They had initially planned to tell Darius as little as possible, but now she wondered if they should reconsider that plan. Even though Dr. Roqueni didn’t trust him, he seemed willing to help—and time was running out. They needed to take some chances if they were going to stop Ms. Dunsworth.
In the end, they decided to keep Elijah’s office and the spectercles a secret for now, but told Darius about everything else, including the two dehaunters and Ms. Dunsworth’s plan to escape with the teachers’ bodies.
Darius listened with growing horror. “We have to get Aria out of there,” he said, reaching for his coat. “Now. The ghosts can’t cross the threshold. So if I can manage to drag her out the front door, this Ms. Duns-worth will be forced to leave her body.”
“That doesn’t help any of the other teachers,” Cordelia said.
Darius shrugged. “Aria comes first. Once she’s safe, we’ll worry about everyone else.”
“There’re too many of them,” Agnes said. “They’ll stop you. Or worse. They’ll make you one of them.”
“You three seem fine,” Darius pointed out.
“The ghosts don’t possess kids,” Benji said.
“Why not?” Darius asked with genuine curiosity. “If I was a ghost, I’d want the youngest body possible. You’d live longer that way.”
“That’s a good point,” Agnes said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Benji said. “Just stay away from the school. If you get caught, the game’s up. Dunsworth will know we’re onto her. And right now, the only advantage we have is surprise.”
“Well, there must be something I can do!” Darius exclaimed. A pleading look came into his eyes. “Please. Let me help her.”
Cordelia couldn’t help feeling bad for the old man. Maybe Dr. Roqueni was wrong about him. As far as she could tell, all he wanted to do was save her.
“What about the house in the attic?” Darius asked. “If what you say is true, and Ms. Dunsworth once lived there—I know its story. Grandma Wilma told it to me when I was a little boy.”
The three kids exchanged excited glances.
“That could definitely be helpful,” Agnes said.
“Your grandma told you about Dunsworth?” Benji asked.
“Grandma Wilma told me about the ghost that haunted that house,” Darius said. “I don’t recollect if she ever told me the name, but if you say it was this Ms. Dunsworth, that works for me. In my defense, it wasn’t a very memorable ghost. Just another vengeful spirit, like all those old ones.”
“Actually,” Cordelia said, “most of the ghosts I’ve met are very nice.”
“How can you still think that?” Benji asked. “They want to steal our teachers’ bodies!”
“It’s not them. It’s this Ms. Dunsworth. She has them brainwashed or something.”
“Seriously, Cordelia? You honestly think—”
“Shh,” Agnes said, reaching out and squeezing their arms. “Let the nice man talk.”
Darius looked from Benji to Cordelia and gave them that knowing grin that grown-ups sometimes did, like they clearly liked each other but hadn’t figured it out yet.
“The ghosts in Shadow School are harmless,” Darius said. “For the most part. But that’s only because they haven’t been dead very long. Leave them there long enough, and they’ll start to go bad. It’s inevitable.”
“Why?” Agnes asked.
Darius held up a finger, then quickly snatched a napkin from the dispenser on the table and sneezed. “Let me ask you a question,” he said, wiping his nose. “Have you ever been so jealous of someone else it makes your blood boil?”
Cordelia pictured Vivi playfully messing up Benji’s hair as they stood by his locker.
“I think I can imagine that,” she said.
“Well, multiply that feeling by a million, and now you know what a ghost feels like,” Darius said. “Imagine being trapped in a world where you’re cold all the time and can’t touch anything or talk to anyone. Pretty awful. But what if you were also surrounded by people who can do all the things you miss the most—laughing, talking, eating—and all you can do is watch them? It might take a decade or two, but even if you were the kindest person on earth when you were alive, you’d start to wonder how come they get to live and you don’t. How is that fair?” He tapped the table with a single finger. “No good can come from jealousy. For the living or the dead. Marinate in those dark feelings long enough, and jealousy becomes hatred; hatred becomes evil. Every good ghost is a bad ghost waiting to happen. It’s just a matter of time.”
Cordelia was reminded of something they had learned months ago: when ghosts got older, they transformed into “phantoms,” developing special abilities or turning monstrous in appearance. Maybe it’s jealousy of the living that causes them to change, Cordelia thought. She wondered if any of the other architectural models in the attic contained phantoms, and what they might be like. A cold sweat broke out across the back of her neck.
“How did Ms. Dunsworth die?” Agnes asked, bringing Cordelia back to the conversation at hand.
�
��I don’t recall,” Darius said. “It wasn’t anything special, like she was murdered and refused to rest until she took her revenge. That kind of stuff only happens in the movies. She just died. A new family moved into the house. At first, everything was okay. Nice, even. Ms. Dunsworth banged some pots or slammed a door now and then, but for the most part she was a good ghost. Helpful. Lost objects would suddenly reappear on the kitchen table. And there was a baby girl who always kicked off her blankets in the middle of the night. Yet every morning her blanket would be back in place.”
Cordelia imagined a woman in an old-fashioned gown standing over a crib, watching a baby sleep. Perhaps Ms. Dunsworth’s intentions had been good at this point, but the image still sent a chill down her spine.
“The real problems started with the second family that moved into the house,” Darius said. “By this point, jealousy of the living had blackened Ms. Dunsworth’s heart. She didn’t help this family. She terrorized them. Her biggest trick was appearing in the mirror when they were checking their reflection and miming their movements.”
“She wanted to be them,” Cordelia said, remembering the way Martha, the old woman who walked into their science class, had imitated Vivi before trying to possess her.
Darius nodded. “That family moved out quick,” he said. “They were smart. But the next group was determined to stick it out no matter what.” He shook his head. “There was a series of ‘accidents,’ one after another. I’ll spare you the details. Eventually, only the mother remained. She’s the one who called Elijah, who finally drove Ms. Dunsworth from the house.”
A somber silence fell over the table. Cordelia poked at her ice cream with her spoon. It had melted into a sweet soup.
“Do you remember any other details about Ms. Dunsworth?” Agnes asked. “What she wore? How she looked? Anything that might have seemed important to her when she was alive?”
“Sorry, kids,” Darius said, leaning back in his seat. “That’s all I’ve got.”
Benji got to his feet and started putting his coat on. “We better head home,” he said, nodding toward the window. The sky had gotten appreciably darker since their arrival. “It’s going to snow soon.”
“What are you going to do?” Darius asked.
“We’ll think of something,” Agnes said.
“I want to help.”
Cordelia shook her head. “We appreciate it. But there’s nothing you can do.”
“Because I can’t see the ghosts,” Darius said through gritted teeth. “Useless as always. Story of my life.” He took a breath, steadying himself. “Well, there’s a dinky little motel just down the road. I’ll be there until Aria is safe and sound. You know my number. You figure out a way I can help—any way at all—you give me a call.”
“Thanks,” Cordelia said. She doubted they’d be able to use his help, but she still appreciated the offer. And after everything was done, she made a promise to herself that she would convince Dr. Roqueni to give him another chance. Maybe he hadn’t been the best uncle when she was a kid, but it seemed like he had changed since then.
“You’re okay, Mr. Shadow,” Benji said.
“You too,” he replied with a smile. “Be careful. All of you.”
They each shook his hand and started to bundle up. By the time they were done, the snow had begun to fall. Cordelia tucked her hair beneath her hood, ready to brave the storm.
19
The Two Passageways
At school, Cordelia tried to become invisible. She didn’t raise her hand in class, sat by herself at lunch, and completely ignored Benji and Agnes. The ghost in the blue prom dress had been assigned to guard her, and Cordelia wanted to put on a good show. Things would be easier if Ms. Dunsworth believed that she had completely given up.
When Cordelia wasn’t in school, it was a different story.
She stayed up late every night, texting her friends. If they put their minds together, she knew they’d find a way to stop the ghosts. Their initial idea was to catch Dr. Roqueni or Mr. Derleth outside the walls of Shadow School, when they weren’t possessed, and explain what was going on. Unfortunately, Dr. Roqueni slept in her apartment every night and ordered groceries delivered to the school, and as far as they could tell, Mr. Derleth was staying there as well. Darius Shadow even tried calling his niece to convince her to go out to dinner, but she wouldn’t go for it.
At the end of January, the flu danced through the halls, dragging partners away at random. Empty chairs outnumbered occupied ones. Benji got sick, then Cor-delia, then Agnes. By the time they were well again, the school had been invaded by paper hearts stapled to bulletin boards and dangling from red yarn hung across classroom ceilings. Cordelia thought she saw Benji and Vivi holding hands as they walked down the hall. She decided not to ask him about it.
Then Ludlow was hit hard by the worst nor’easter in a decade, and they had three glorious snow days in a row.
The storm stalled progress on the dehaunter, but unfortunately this only made Ms. Dunsworth more impatient to complete it. She warned Agnes that if the plans weren’t done by the end of the month, it would be her friends who paid the price.
Knowing that they had to figure out an answer fast, they started to consider ideas that might have previously seemed outlandish. The cart that the ghost snatchers had used to dispose of their quarry lay beneath a tarp in Elijah’s office. Could they possibly make use of it? And then there was the horseshoe house. If they could somehow pin Dr. Roqueni’s hand to the roof and press the doorbell, would it imprison Ms. Dunsworth just as it had the ghost in the faculty meeting?
They balanced the ifs and coulds against the possible consequences if they failed and decided that they hadn’t yet come upon a solution likely enough to succeed. When the end of February arrived, Agnes had no choice but to give Ms. Dunsworth her completed plans for the dehaunter. The ghosts had a carpenter among their ranks, but the plans were complex. It would be at least six weeks before the dehaunter was finished.
If they didn’t think of a solution before then, all was lost.
By this point, Cordelia suspected that the ghosts were no longer lingering in the background and had taken full control of all their teachers. It was a horrible thought. On the other hand, it meant that her “teachers” had stopped assigning homework, so it wasn’t all bad. Cor-delia was making good use of this free time by watching random YouTube videos on her Chromebook when her cell phone started to buzz.
Agnes wanted to FaceTime her.
“Hey,” Cordelia said, answering the call. Agnes’s face appeared, looking scrunched in the tiny screen.
“What are you doing right now?” Agnes asked.
Cordelia glanced over the phone at the video currently streaming on her Chromebook. A kitten was attempting to knock down a Christmas ornament from the lower branches of a tree.
“Research,” she said.
“You’re watching cat videos again, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s cool. I think I’ve figured out a way to stop the ghosts. But if you’re too busy right now . . .”
Cordelia sat up and slammed her Chromebook shut.
“I’m all ears,” she said. “You want me to call Benji?”
“I texted him. He can’t talk right now. He’s with Vivi.”
“Of course he is.”
“They’re bowling.”
“I don’t need to know,” Cordelia said. “Tell me your plan.”
Even in the tiny screen, Cordelia could see the excitement in Agnes’s eyes.
“Remember the day we were checking those wires? I turned the triangle and made the purple light, and mentioned it was a different color in the other passageway?”
“Green, right?”
“Correct,” Agnes said. “Well, I didn’t know it at the time, but it turns out the colors are different because the pyramids in one passageway are producing a completely different type of energy than the other pyramids. The purple energy sends ghosts into their Brights.
The green energy, on the other hand, opens up portals that will let the ghosts leave the school. I don’t think Elijah was sure which set of pyramids was going to work. So he built both of them.”
There was a knock at Cordelia’s door.
“Your mom and I are playing Yahtzee,” said Mr. Liu, inching the door open a respectful few inches. “You want to play?”
“Not tonight. Thanks.”
“We made popcorn.”
“Test tomorrow! Gotta study.”
Cordelia made sure her father’s footsteps had retreated down the stairs before continuing her conversation.
“I’m confused,” she said. “If the pyramids are supplying all the energy, then what does the dehaunter do?”
“It changes the raw energy into a form the mirrors can actually use,” Agnes said. “The original dehaunter absorbed the purple energy, transferred it into what Elijah called ‘activation mist,’ and sent it up to the mirrors. That’s why the Brights appeared when we tested it out. The one I designed for Ms. Dunsworth does the same thing but pulls from the green energy pyramids instead.”
“Just like she wants,” Cordelia said. “I don’t understand how this helps us.”
“Because the dehaunter I built is different from the first one,” Agnes said. “It’s compatible with both types of energy. It uses the portal pyramids by default. But let’s say that green energy isn’t available. I designed the dehaunter so that instead of turning off, it just switches to the nearest available energy source. In other words, if we can somehow manage to turn off the portal pyramids—”
“The dehaunter will use the purple energy instead and send the ghosts into their Brights!” Cordelia exclaimed. “This is brilliant! Why did you wait so long to tell us?”
“Because I just figured out the last part tonight. It’s not as easy as it sounds, Cord. Ms. Dunsworth is definitely going to test the dehaunter before she turns it on full blast. So it has to work the way she wants, at least the first time.”