by J. A. White
Cordelia saw Elijah pass across the room. He gave her a tiny bow before sailing into his wife’s embrace.
“What have you done?” Ms. Dunsworth asked, spinning around in horror. Ghosts were being pulled from all over the school now, forming lines at each mirror. “All I wanted to do was live! You ruined everything!”
She charged at Cordelia with murderous rage in her eyes. Just before her outstretched hand could wrap itself around Cordelia’s neck, however, Dr. Roqueni jerked forward, spitting Ms. Dunsworth out like an unwanted seed.
A piercing whistle filled the air.
The ghosts covered their ears and turned toward the source of the sound: the largest mirror in the room, its red curtain still untouched. The cylinder that rose from its frame began to puff black smoke, and the curtain was sucked inward until it broke free of its rod and drifted across a nightmarish city of dilapidated factories and sleek black skyscrapers. Smokestacks belched plumes of fire beneath a sunless sky, and a single whiff of sulfurous air nestled inside Cordelia’s nostrils. In the distance, she saw something with more mouths than legs scale a smokestack. It snapped the red curtain from the sky with a forked tongue.
Ms. Dunsworth closed her eyes with grim acceptance. A gust of hot wind carried her home.
25
The Gift
Cordelia walked through the hallway, passing bulletin boards that had been papered with yellow, pink, and blue pastels. A few kids passed her, rushing for the buses that would take them home for spring break. She saw Francesca Calvino and gave her a wave, but Francesca didn’t notice. Her head was down in a book.
She has no idea how lucky she is, Cordelia thought.
A total of four ghosts had escaped through the portals, stealing the bodies of Francesca, Steve Warner, Aaron O’Sullivan, and Lisa Hill. Fortunately, Mr. Derleth had quickly organized the teachers into a search party, and the missing students had been dragged, kicking and screaming, back to Shadow School—where the dehaunter had yanked the ghosts from their bodies. When the children awoke, none of them remembered what had happened.
Cordelia shifted her backpack and felt its contents move.
Ugh, she thought, wincing. I hope I didn’t mess them up.
She took the stairs to the basement.
Since there were no longer any classrooms down there, the custodians didn’t feel the need to clean the basement as often as the other floors. The floor was sticky, and several lightbulbs were in need of replacing. Cordelia spotted an impressive spiderweb stretching from one wall to another.
A ghost appeared directly in front of her.
Cordelia screamed, then laughed at herself for screaming. It was the first time that she had witnessed a ghost’s arrival at Shadow School.
So that’s how it works, she thought. They just show up. Out of nowhere.
The ghost was a man in his fifties wearing earbuds, jogging shorts, and a black T-shirt. There was a word written across his chest, but the letters were blurred.
“Hey there,” Cordelia said.
The jogger jumped at her words. He looked rattled, like a boxer who had just taken a hard hit to the head.
“Take a deep breath,” Cordelia said. “Or . . . not. Sorry. Anyway, the dehaunter will bring you to your Bright at any moment. Your run through heavenly woods or eternal marathon or whatever it is. I really don’t get you joggers. But just hang in there.”
As she passed the ghost and headed down the hallway, Cordelia noticed that his left shoelace was missing.
Big deal, she thought. The dehaunter will take care of him. You don’t have to do a single thing. And do they really deserve your help, anyway? Remember what happened? It wasn’t just Ms. Dunsworth who tried to steal a body.
Cordelia glanced over her shoulder. The man had wrapped his arms around himself and begun to shiver, as though he was trapped in a blizzard without a coat.
It wasn’t all of them, though, she thought. And even if it was—can you blame them?
She removed the shoelace from her sneaker and tossed it to the jogger.
“This is the last time!” she announced to anyone who might be listening. “For real!”
Cordelia didn’t wait around to see if the jogger took his Brightkey or not. As she turned the corner, however, she glanced in his direction—purely by accident. The ghost was gone.
Cordelia smiled.
Elijah’s office had never looked so festive. Streamers hung from the ceiling, and multicolored lights decorated the shelves. A long table in the center of the room was covered with food and drinks. Agnes had made brownies, of course, but there were also organic granola bars, courtesy of Ezra’s mom, and a seven-layer dip that Benji and Vivi had made together. A present about the size of a pencil box sat in the center of the table, wrapped with red paper and a gold bow.
I can’t wait to see the expression on his face when he opens it, Cordelia thought.
She was relieved to find that her cupcakes had survived the journey in her backpack with their icing intact. She began to arrange them onto a paper plate.
“Those look awesome,” Vivi said. “I can’t wait to try them.”
“Why wait?” Benji asked, reaching down to take one.
Vivi slapped his hand away. “No eating until the guest of honor arrives,” she said.
“But I’m hungry. And all this food is right there, taunting me! It’s cruel, Vivi! Cruel!”
“I think you’ll survive,” Vivi said, laughing as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
“I’m going to see what Agnes is up to,” Cordelia said.
Benji and Vivi had officially been dating for two weeks now. Cordelia was glad her friends seemed so happy together, but there were times when being around them made her feel a little awkward. Part of it, she had finally admitted to Agnes during a late-night FaceTime session, might just be jealousy. But it was more than that. Things were different now, and that was going to take some getting used to. She had always pictured the three of them—Cordelia, Benji, and Agnes—as an inseparable team who would spend their years at Shadow School rescuing ghosts. But now Benji had a Vivi. And the ghosts had a dehaunter.
It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t how Cordelia had thought things would turn out.
At least we’re still friends, she thought. Ghosts or no ghosts, nothing will ever change that.
She took a seat next to Agnes, who was watching Mr. Derleth and Ezra play chess. There weren’t many white pieces left on the board. Ezra, wearing a tie and sweater vest, looked calm and collected. Mr. Derleth was sweating profusely.
“I’m guessing Ezra is black?” Cordelia asked.
Agnes nodded. “He’s about to win his third game in a row,” she said with admiration. “And the thing is—I’ve played Mr. Derleth in chess. He’s good. He almost beat me once.”
“So why don’t you play Ezra?”
“Look at how happy he is,” Agnes said. “If I beat him, it’ll ruin everything.”
“You’re afraid he’s going to win, aren’t you?”
“No,” Agnes said. “That’s not it at all.”
Cordelia raised her eyebrows.
“Okay, that’s totally it,” Agnes admitted.
“If you want, you can just play me instead,” Cordelia said. “But let’s play the type of chess with the round pieces instead.”
“You mean checkers?”
Before Cordelia could respond, squeaky gears announced that the entrance to the office was opening again. Everyone stopped what they were doing and gathered around while Dr. Roqueni led Darius Shadow down the stairs. It was his first time in the office, and he looked a little overwhelmed.
“It’s real,” Darius said, eyes bulging. “I can’t believe it. All of Elijah’s research. His journals! His blueprints! The secrets of archimancy, all here!”
Dr. Roqueni gauged her uncle’s reaction carefully. She seemed to be questioning her decision to bring him there.
“Thank you, Aria,” he said. “Thank you, children! This is wond
erful! We have to share this with the world, so people can finally know what a genius Elijah—”
“No,” Dr. Roqueni said, shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”
“But Aria—”
“The kids told me what you did, Uncle Darius. You saved their lives. You saved all our lives. Cordelia says I should give you a second chance.”
“Smart girl, that Cordelia,” Darius said, giving her a wink.
“She sure is. And I trust her. Which means maybe you can be my uncle again.”
“I’d like that,” Darius said. “More than anything.”
“But there’s one condition. You must swear to keep everything in this room a secret. If you can’t do that, you need to leave right now and never come back.”
Darius placed his hand over his heart. “I swear,” he said. “I won’t tell a soul anything about this place.”
For a moment, Cordelia was certain that Dr. Roqueni was going to say she didn’t believe him. Then she gave a weak smile and patted him on the arm.
“All right, then,” Dr. Roqueni said. “Why don’t you open your present?”
Cordelia grabbed the box off the table and handed it to Darius. He unwrapped it quickly and lifted the lid.
“Um,” he said. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but this is an empty box.”
Agnes laughed.
“They’re spectercles,” she said, reaching into the box and carefully lifting the invisible goggles. “They let you see the ghosts!”
“Like the glasses you were wearing when we first met,” Benji said through a mouthful of cupcake, “only these actually work.”
Agnes slid the spectercles over Darius’s eyes, and he reached out to touch them, hands trembling. This particular pair had an old-fashioned, Steampunk look. Cordelia thought they made Darius look like the wise sage the heroes come to for advice in some sci-fi flick.
Darius tottered on his feet. Dr. Roqueni reached out and held his arm, steadying him.
“Give your eyes a second to adjust,” Agnes said.
“The first time’s the worst,” added Vivi.
“I can really see ghosts with these?” Darius asked.
“As clearly as Elijah Shadow could,” Dr. Roqueni said. “No Sight required.”
Darius lifted the spectercles to wipe away his tears. Then he took a long look around the room.
“Well, where the heck are they?” he asked.
Everyone laughed.
“Come on, Mr. Shadow,” Cordelia said, leading him up the stairs. “I’m sure we can find a ghost around here somewhere.”
About the Author
Photo credit Yeeshing White
J. A. WHITE is the author of the Thickety series and Nightbooks. He lives in New Jersey with his wife, three sons, and the ghost of their hamster, Ophelia. When he’s not making up stories, he teaches a bunch of kids how to make up stories. He wishes dragons were real because it would be a much cooler way to get to work. You can visit him online at www.jawhitebooks.com.
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Books by J. A. White
Nightbooks
The Thickety Series
A Path Begins
The Whispering Trees
Well of Witches
The Last Spell
Shadow School Series
Archimancy
Dehaunting
Phantoms
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Copyright
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
SHADOW SCHOOL #2: DEHAUNTING. Copyright © 2020 by J. A. White. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover art © 2019 by Petur Antonsson
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: White, J. A., author.
Title: Dehaunting / J. A. White.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : Katherine Tegen Books, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, [2020] | Series: Shadow school; 2 | Audience: Ages 8–12. | Audience: Grades 4–6. | Summary: “Cordelia and her friends discover a way to get rid of all the ghosts that haunt their school—but dehaunting turns out to be more complicated and dangerous than any of them considered”— Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020000848 | ISBN 9780062838308 (hardcover)
Subjects: CYAC: Middle schools—Fiction. | Schools—Fiction. | Ghosts—Fiction. | Haunted places—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.W58327 Deh 2020 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020000848
* * *
Digital Edition AUGUST 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-283833-9
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-283830-8
2021222324PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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