by J. A. White
Ms. Dunsworth applauded. “It works perfectly, by the way,” she said. “I tested it last night. I can’t tell you how good it felt to breathe in the cool night air. I was tempted to just leave. But I couldn’t abandon my people like that. We have things to do.”
“Your people?” Benji asked. “You mean ghosts?”
“We’re not the ghosts!” Ms. Dunsworth shrieked. “You are! Drifting through your pathetic existence in a mindless haze, barely acknowledging the others around you as you poke your little machines. After you die, you’ll understand how precious every single breath is. Then, and only then, will you deserve to live.” Ms. Dunsworth nodded as she spoke, as though each word further confirmed the nobility of her cause. “Once we’re outside,” she continued, “we’ll start converting others. It’ll be much faster this time. Give my staff a few days, and we can teach any ghost how to possess a human. I’ve heard that there are quite a few graveyards in the area. That seems like a good place to start.”
Cordelia knew she should do something. Run. Hide. Scream. But the chilling implications of Ms. Dunsworth’s plan had frozen her in place. Once the ghosts escape, there’ll be no way to stop them. The dead will spread across the world like a virus, possessing the bodies of the living at will.
A wall speaker hissed to life. “All staff, report to the conservatory,” Mrs. Flippin said, her usually warm voice cold and robotic. “I repeat. All staff, report to the conservatory at once. Students, remain in your classrooms and await further instructions.”
“The mirrors are on the fourth floor,” Benji said. “That’s your way out. Why would you send all the teachers down to the conservatory?”
Ms. Dunsworth smiled smugly.
“Have you really not figured it out yet?” she asked. “We’re going to the conservatory so we can shed these old husks. That door is reinforced steel. Even after they wake up, your teachers won’t be able to get out. Not fast enough, at least. We’ll be long gone in our fresh young bodies by then.”
As she realized what Ms. Dunsworth intended to do, Cordelia felt not surprise, but a cold acceptance. In the darkest part of her mind, she had always known Ms. Dunsworth’s ultimate plan. It had just been too horrible to speak aloud.
“This was never about the teachers,” Cordelia said. “They were just practice. It’s the students you want.”
“Obviously,” Ms. Dunsworth said. “Why live in a battered old shack when there’re hundreds of brand-new houses available? Speaking of which, I need to go. Faculty meeting.” She started toward the stairs, waving Mr. Derleth after her. “Come on, Harold.”
Harold refused to move. “I don’t want to sound like I’m ungrateful for everything that you’ve done,” he said, bowing his head, “but you promised I could be the first. Remember?”
Ms. Dunsworth patted his arm. “So I did, loyal friend,” she said. “And you have more than earned the honor.” She waved her hand across the room, taking in Cordelia and her friends. “Which one do you want?”
Harold’s eyes passed over the girls and settled on Benji and Ezra. He stroked his chin, considering.
“Stay away from us,” Benji said, placing himself in front of Ezra.
The ghost of the old gardener stepped out into the open. As Mr. Derleth’s body collapsed to the floor, Harold floated toward Benji and Ezra, arms outstretched. Cordelia could see dirt on the fingers of his gardening gloves.
“Stay away!” Benji repeated.
At the last moment, his instincts overcame his good sense, and Benji tried to push the approaching ghost. His momentum took him straight through the gardener, causing him to stumble and fall.
“Cordelia!” Ezra cried, backing away. “What’s happening?”
The boy’s voice seemed to wake up something inside Cordelia—some tiny flame that refused to be doused no matter how dire the situation—and she started toward him, determined to do something. Before she could get three steps, however, an arm wrapped itself around her chest, keeping her still.
“Watch,” Ms. Dunsworth whispered in her ear.
Ezra, his eyes frantically searching the room for a ghost he could not see, began to sniffle. “I don’t like this,” he said as Harold placed two hands on his shoulders and began to grow dimmer. “I don’t like this. I don’t like—”
He stopped talking. His eyes went flat as Harold disappeared from behind him.
Ezra blinked. “Tight fit,” he said in a more assured voice than the real boy had ever possessed. He circled his arms. “Like a suit of clothes that’s a few sizes too small.”
“You’ll grow into it,” Ms. Dunsworth said.
Ezra—now Harold—walked across the office. His shoulders were no longer slouched. He looked up at Ms. Dunsworth.
“You’re so tall,” he said. “Are you going to possess one of these girls now?”
“Not yet,” Ms. Dunsworth said, pinching his cheek. “I need to put a few things in motion first. But don’t worry, we’ll be back.” Her eyes jumped from Cordelia to Vivi to Agnes, lingering on each one in turn. “Decisions, decisions.”
Ms. Dunsworth and Harold went up the stairs. As soon as they left, Cordelia heard a huge thump above them. The armoire, she thought. They pushed it over so the floor can’t rise and let us out.
Sure enough, when Benji pulled the lever, there was only a strained grinding. The floor didn’t move a single inch.
They were trapped.
22
Trapped!
The first thing they did was check on Mr. Derleth. His breathing was steady, but no matter how hard they tried to wake him up, he refused to stir. Cordelia removed her cardigan and slid it beneath his head.
“That ghost has been inhabiting his body for months now,” Agnes said, yanking nervously on her braid. “There’s no telling what kind of repercussions there might be, both physically and psychologically. . . .”
“Mr. D will be fine,” Benji insisted, with a look that dared Agnes to say otherwise. “He just needs to rest. Right now we have to concentrate on getting out of here before Ms. Dunsworth returns.”
“Poor Ezra,” Vivi said. “He was so scared.”
“We’re going to rescue him,” Cordelia said. “And everyone else too.”
“Mr. Shadow is already on his way,” Benji said. “I texted him and told him where the office is.”
“How did you manage that?” Agnes asked, impressed.
“Ms. Dunsworth was distracted doing her crazy ghosts-are-going-to-rule-the-world speech. Plus: lightning thumbs!”
“Who’s Mr. Shadow?” Vivi asked, a glimmer of hope coming into her eyes.
“He’s this old dude that Dr. Roqueni told us not to trust,” Benji said. “Honestly, I’m not even sure he’ll come.”
“Wow,” Vivi said. “I feel safer already.”
“Well, we can’t just stand here waiting around,” Agnes said. “I’ll see if I can figure out a way to open the door.”
“I’ll check the Brightkey room,” Benji said. “Maybe there’s something we can use.”
“I’ll help,” said Vivi. As they went into the other room, Cordelia heard her ask, “What’s a Brightkey?”
“That noise we heard,” Cordelia said, following Agnes to the steps. “Does that mean they can use the dehaunter?”
“Not yet,” Agnes said. “It’s still warming up. You know how the dehaunter looks like a house? The energy needs to pass through all three floors, from bottom to top, before it’s ready to power the mirrors. On the first floor, the molecules undergo a stabilization process in order to prepare—”
Cordelia squeezed Agnes’s arm. “I love you but keep it stupid right now. How much time?”
“Thirty minutes,” Agnes said. “That sound the dehaunter makes? When we hear it a second time—bad! When we hear it a third time—worse!”
“Got it,” Cordelia said, running up the stairs. Peeking between the gaps of the floorboards, she could make out the chestnut wood of the armoire. She pressed her back against the floor and pu
shed as hard as she could. It didn’t move at all.
“Can we science our way out of this?” Cordelia asked. “Like, use physics to make the armoire move or something?”
“You know science and magic are two different things, right?”
“Now is not the time for Snarky Agnes.”
Three pounding noises, like someone slamming their fists against the massive door of a cathedral, echoed through the office.
Vivi screamed.
Cordelia and Agnes ran into the Brightkey room, where Vivi was staring in horror at what looked like a tall wooden closet. A thick-shackled padlock hung from the latch on its side.
“Someone’s inside,” Vivi whispered, pointing to the box. “They’re trying to get out.”
The pounding started again, even louder this time. The lock rattled and jumped but maintained its hold.
“This is a ghost box,” Agnes told Vivi. “Mr. Ward built it for us before he left, just in case we needed it. It’s the only thing that can contain them.”
“Mr. Ward?” Vivi asked. “Isn’t he the custodian that used to work here?”
“He knew about the ghosts too,” Agnes said. “But then he moved to Greece.”
“Smart guy,” Vivi said.
There was a circular window cut into the door of the ghost box. Standing on his tiptoes, Benji cupped his hands to the glass and looked through it.
“It’s so dark,” he said. “But there’s definitely a ghost in there.”
“Vivi,” Cordelia whispered. “Remember those special goggles Agnes gave you?”
“Spectercles!” Agnes insisted.
“Put them on,” Cordelia said. “Just in case.”
Vivi nodded and slipped the spectercles over her eyes. She was breathing heavily, but other than that she seemed to be holding it together well. Cordelia couldn’t help being impressed.
“Don’t get so close,” Vivi whispered to Benji, whose face was pressed against the window. “Whoever’s in there is not happy.”
The door rattled on its hinges, taking Benji by surprise. He fell backward and would have crashed to the floor if Cordelia and Vivi hadn’t righted him.
There was a huge grin on his face. “It’s Elijah!” he exclaimed. “Ms. Dunsworth must have trapped him in there. We need to get him out!”
“Why would we want to do that?” Vivi asked. “Isn’t he a ghost?”
“The good kind,” Cordelia said.
“A poltergeist,” Agnes added. “He can move objects with his mind. Which means he can help get us out of here.”
“A poltergeist,” Vivi said. “Sure. Why not?”
“Check the shelves,” Benji said. “There must be something we can use to break this lock.”
A few minutes later, Cordelia tracked down a tire iron that she had once offered to a ghost wearing mechanic coveralls. At first she tried breaking the window, but the plate was thick and shatterproof, so instead she dug the flat end of the tire iron between the box and door. Planting her feet, she pushed forward with all her might, trying to pry the door open. When it didn’t budge, Agnes squeezed next to her, adding her own strength.
Finally, there was a cracking sound like a branch in a windstorm, and the door swung open. Elijah stepped out of the box. The architect usually looked calm and composed, but not today. His eyes were rimmed with red and his hair stood on end. Cordelia was glad he was on their side.
“Hey, Mr. Shadow,” Cordelia said. “We’re in trouble here. There’s a ghost inside Dr. Roqueni who’s planning to steal all our teachers’—”
Elijah nodded and held a finger over her lips.
“He already knows, remember?” Agnes said. At some point she had slid on her spectercles. “That’s why he tried to stop her.”
A grinding noise shook the school like the roar of a mechanical dragon. Cordelia grabbed Benji for balance as the office began to shake. Brightkeys rained down from the shelves. Water from a shattered snow globe splattered Cordelia’s shoe.
The sound stopped. Cordelia realized how close she was holding Benji and let go of him with an embarrassed smile. She saw Vivi watching them.
“You okay?” Cordelia asked.
“Fine,” said Vivi.
“The power’s reached the second floor of the dehaunter,” Agnes said. “We have to hurry. They’ll be able to use it soon.”
Cordelia looked up at Elijah. “We need to get out of here, Mr. Shadow. But there’s a big piece of furniture blocking our way. Can you give us a hand?”
The architect gave a bow and passed through the wall into the other room. Vivi let out a yelp of surprise.
“Yeah, they do that,” Benji said. “You’ll get used to it. Sort of.”
The group made their way into the office as Elijah positioned himself at the base of the stairs. He raised his hand, and the trapdoor shook weakly before coming to a sudden stop. A worried look passed over the ghost’s face, as though the task before him was a lot more difficult than he had initially thought.
“Is it too heavy?” Benji asked.
“Maybe he’s just tired,” Vivi said. “Do ghosts get tired?”
“What’s our plan B?” Benji asked.
“This was our plan B,” Cordelia said. “Plan A was not getting caught, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Benji said. He turned to Cordelia with a hopeful grin. “Plan C?”
Elijah balled his fingers into fists, and the floorboards above him began to shake like storm doors during a tornado. Just a few seconds later, however, he dropped his arms and slumped forward. The floorboards stopped moving.
“This isn’t working,” Cordelia said.
“It doesn’t matter,” replied Agnes, picking through the burnt remains of Elijah’s directions. “We don’t know how to turn off the portal pyramids anyway. Even if we get out of here, there’s no way to stop them.”
“One step at a time,” Cordelia said. “Maybe there’s another way out of here. A secret passageway or something.”
“You know how many hours we’ve spent in this office?” Benji asked. “If there was a secret passageway, we definitely would have found it by now!”
“I agree,” Agnes said. “It’s a waste of time.”
“What kind of attitude is that?” Vivi asked. “We can’t just give up!”
“Exactly,” Cordelia said, sharing a quick smile with Vivi. “Agnes—you search the shelves to see if there’s another copy of Elijah’s directions. Benji and Vivi, you two—”
“Shh,” Benji said, pointing up. “Listen.”
There were footsteps above them. Someone was coming.
“Dunsworth’s back,” Cordelia whispered. Her mind scrambled, wondering what they should do. Hide? Fight?
What if they catch us? Whose body will Dunsworth make a home of?
Vivi? Agnes?
Me?
“Hey!” said a voice from above. “You kids down there?”
It was Darius Shadow.
“You came!” Benji yelled, jumping up and down. “You have to get us out of here! Can you move that armoire?”
Cordelia heard a few grunts of exertion as Darius gave it a shot.
“Sorry,” he said, gasping for breath. “Too heavy.”
“What if they work together?” Agnes said. “Darius pushes from up there while Elijah poltergeists from down here?”
Elijah gave a half-hearted nod. He didn’t look very confident.
“Get ready to try again,” Cordelia told Darius. “Only you’re going to have a little help this time.”
Elijah squeezed his eyes shut and clenched both fists. The floorboards shook, fiercer than ever. Cordelia heard the armoire buck up and down and waved her friends back, just in case it crashed through the floor. In the end, however, the floorboards held, and the armoire remained in place. The only evidence of their efforts was a crack that allowed Cordelia to see Darius looking down at them.
“How did the armoire just move?” he asked.
“Poltergeist,” Cordelia said. “But
the armoire’s too heavy.”
She thought about mentioning the fact that the poltergeist was Elijah Shadow, his great-grandfather, but that would require a long explanation, and they didn’t have time. At any moment, the dehaunter might start freeing the ghosts.
“Weight isn’t the problem,” Darius said. “The problem is he can’t see it. Poltergeists can only move things in their field of vison. He should come up here.”
“He can’t leave,” Agnes said. “The office is his ghost zone.”
Darius slowly lowered himself to his knees for a closer look through the hole. The brass key dangled from his neck.
“Office?” he asked. “What kind of office?”
Cordelia noticed Elijah gazing toward the hole with a look of intense longing. At first, Cordelia thought it was because he had heard his great-grandson’s voice. But then he reached out his hand, and Cordelia realized exactly what he wanted.
“Mr. Shadow!” she exclaimed. “Give me the key around your neck!”
“My key? Why?”
“Just do it. Please!”
There must have been something truly desperate in Cordelia’s voice, because Darius lowered the key through the hole without any further questions. It was the key to the first house that Elijah had ever built, an object so important that he had given it to the people he loved most in life.
Of course, Cordelia thought.
She grabbed the key and dropped it into Elijah’s hand. A black triangle opened above him. Within the Bright, Cordelia saw a simple cottage sitting on the edge of a lake. In the front yard, a pretty woman tended to a colorful garden. Hallie Shadow, Cordelia thought. Elijah’s beloved turned in their direction with a smile, then rose and wiped the dirt from her hands.
“At this point, I don’t even want to ask,” Vivi said.
Elijah rose into the air. For the first time, he looked at peace. Cordelia was tempted to just let him go. He deserved a happy ending.
But he can’t have one, she thought sadly. We can’t do this without him.
“Please, Mr. Shadow,” she said as his feet rose over her head. “I hate to ask this, after all you’ve been through, but could you stay a little while longer? I know that in life you were a good man who wanted to make up for all the misery you caused. This is your chance, Mr. Shadow. Help us.”