by Sarina Dorie
Out of everyone in the book, only Malisha and Ms. Suarez were still here, in addition to Vega. Both deaths had occurred in Ms. Suarez’s class. Could she have been the culprit, not Malisha? She was one of the few other people who had been at the school during both incidents.
The handwriting of the note didn’t match either Malisha’s or Ms. Suarez’s penmanship—but the note could have been forged.
The elderly potions teacher didn’t seem like the sort who would kill students—but successful murderers probably got away with their crimes because they were able to throw off suspicion. Ms. Suarez could have had a motive to murder Jessica—the girl had probably dug something up on her teacher to get her to do her work for her. Though what Jessica had discovered, Vega couldn’t guess. And why Ms. Suarez would kill another student—using the same method—Vega also couldn’t imagine. Could Sherry have discovered Ms. Suarez’s secret? Or was Sherry the unfortunate victim of an accident, and the entire point had been to get rid of Henrietta and her amulet?
That same motive might have also incriminated Malisha Bane—assuming she had another secret that Vega didn’t know.
Vega had some digging to do. Largely, this involved confiscating the amulet that Demeter Winters had appropriated to figure out why it really was so special—which might get Demeter in more trouble than she realized. It was up to Vega to prevent Demeter from seeing a murderer’s secrets and getting herself killed.
Vega rose early and prepared for the school day. As soon as the majority of students had left their dorms for breakfast, Vega went to the student dorm room where Demeter Winters slept. The beds were nearly identical aside from the trunks at the foot of the beds and the personal items spread around them. A chart was mounted on the wall for teacher convenience so that whoever had curfew duty could figure out who wasn’t in her bed.
It took less than thirty seconds to find where Demeter slept. Her area was slightly tidier than the rest, nothing out of the ordinary. She hadn’t left the amulet out in the open, though Vega hadn’t suspected she would.
In the early days of learning magic, Vega would have needed a hair or article that belonged to the person whose lost item she searched for. Over the years, Vega had refined this technique. She imagined Henrietta’s essence. It was a complex ability that only a skilled Celestor such as Vega could have performed.
Vega didn’t need to say the words of the incantation out loud either. She held out her finger and chanted in her head, “Witchkin sight, use your might. Show me what is Henrietta’s by right.”
She drew her finger across Demeter’s trunk, horizontally and then vertically. Her finger didn’t glow. It was possible Demeter had stored the amulet on her person, though that would be inconvenient for the little thief if the principal questioned her and she had it. Vega strode to the nightstand, waving her finger back and forth, and then over her bed. Her finger blazed with incandescent light when she drew it across the pillow. Vega found the amulet hidden in the mattress.
Along with the necklace, several other pieces of jewelry dropped out. One was a charm bracelet that twinkled with its own light even from the shadows under the bed. It was beautiful, breathtaking, reminding Vega of sunlight glittering on freshly fallen snow.
Longing rose in her, overpowering the constant hunger to eat meat. The taste of decaying flesh was nothing compared to this desire.
Immediately, she grew suspicious. Vega ignored the urge to pick up the charm bracelet and put it on. She kicked it out where she could see it better. Her vision was so well honed that she didn’t need to use a hex-detecting spell to see the threads of Fae enchantment attached to the object.
It was a Fae lure, not so different from a curse. She rolled her eyes. It was just the kind of stupid thing a teenager might find, not realizing what it was. As they were wont to do, the Fae would claim the student had accepted their gift and now they owed their new Fae master a favor in return. The school wards on a student protected her from being claimed while attending the school, but it didn’t mean the Fae wouldn’t snatch that student after graduation.
Vega kicked out the other pieces of sparkling jewelry. Another bracelet and a ring turned out to be more Fae gifts. She sighed in disgust at Demeter’s ineptness. How could she have fallen for the oldest Fae trick in the book? How had they even gotten the jewelry onto school grounds without the administration noticing? Weren’t they supposed to be on the lookout for such things?
The principal was going to have to burn away the magic on the lures and try to figure out which court had tried to claim a student at the school. She would have to ensure none of the Fae had claimed Demeter—or any others.
Vega thought back to the previous lures students had found at the beginning of the year. Probably these traps were unrelated. Then again, she didn’t know that for certain. That Fae was dead, but there were so many monsters out there, and she had to consider that Fae could have buddies. Keeping students safe was an endless job.
Principal Gordmayer was probably going to make Vega fill out paperwork about finding the Fae lures too. Vega shook her head, dreading how much of her time that would eat up.
She reached into her pocket and withdrew a handkerchief. She was careful not to touch any of the jewelry with her bare skin as she wrapped it up and tied the fabric closed.
If she were lucky, she might be able to deposit it on the secretary’s desk with a note about the student in question. If Vega conveniently forgot to sign the note, perhaps she wouldn’t have to fill out twelve incident reports on each item.
As unfashionable as it was to have a bulging lump of jewelry in her sweater pocket, Vega preferred ruining the straight line of her figure rather than transporting it out of her possession and potentially disrupting her stored energy. There was no telling how Fae lures might react to transportation magic.
Only now that the Fae lures were out of sight, Vega could concentrate on the reason she was there in the first place. After the sparkling jewelry meant to tempt gullible Witchkin, the amulet was dull and unimpressive.
The amulet consisted of a black stone encased in elaborate Celtic knotwork on a tarnished chain. Possibly the amulet was dwarf made. The energy attached to it was subtle, but most definitely Fae. Unlike the fancy lures, this one lacked the intricate woven magic used for tempting children into a trap.
Even so, Vega used her hex-detecting spell to ensure it wasn’t a more subtle snare. The object glowed intensely purple before the light faded. It wasn’t cursed or hexed, but it was imbued with magic.
The amulet wasn’t some silly bobble that a student would use to enhance their nonexistent abilities to see through glamours. This talisman held power. As skilled as Vega was at seeing through enchantments, this amulet was a true prize that might reveal something she hadn’t noticed before.
Henrietta had said the person who intended to use it had to wear it, but many Fae enchantments only required an object to be touched. Vega didn’t know how long it could work effectively without draining the enchantment. Vega pocketed the amulet, eager to test it on Malisha Bane.
Though it was possible Malisha’s secrets might not even be something that could be detected with glamour.
On her way to the cafeteria, Vega peeked into the administration wing, pleased to see the secretary was out. She dropped the handkerchief on his desk and wrote a brief note:
Perhaps if the dean of discipline did a better job of inspecting the freshmen girls’ dormitory, you would have found these by now. Demeter Winters needs to be examined for Fae markings. There are probably other students who have succumbed to lures as well.
She didn’t sign her name.
Vega stomped out, vexed that she had to waste her time doing everyone else’s job for them because she was the only competent person in the school. She hurried to the cafeteria, the place most teachers would be this time of morning, Malisha included.
Unfortunately, Malisha wasn’t present. Vega used her usual hex-detecting spell on b
reakfast. The oatmeal hadn’t been tampered with this morning—no surprise considering Malisha wasn’t there. A vaguely smokey scent filled the cafeteria, which meant the oatmeal was probably burned, but at least she could eat it.
The putrid smoke didn’t smell particularly delicious, so Vega suspected no one had died by fire that morning. Yet.
Students were quiet during breakfast, some of them nodding off at their benches. Vega spotted Ms. Suarez walking between tables with the aid of her cane and talking to students. She didn’t look like someone hiding dark secrets from her past—and present—but everyone had secrets.
This was Vega’s chance to see whether the elderly teacher was hiding something about her appearance—about her true identity—that might give her a motive for silencing a student. Vega slipped a hand into her pocket and rubbed the stone of the amulet. Nothing changed in her vision. She had hoped not to draw attention to herself out in public and reveal she had the amulet, but unfortunately, she could see it required more than touching the stone to be able to see through glamours.
Vega ducked behind Hazel, who had just stepped up to the staff table. The sasquatch teacher was almost as tall as Vega and had more than enough hair to camouflage someone standing behind her. Vega slid the necklace over her head and slipped it under her button-up collar so no one would spot it.
Vega’s vision momentarily blurred before sharpening, not so differently from when she used her own Witchkin sight to see through illusions. Immediately Vega realized this talisman didn’t just give the wearer the ability to see through glamours. It honed her vision so that she could see details all the way across the cafeteria. She could examine the woven lines of wards protecting students without trying. The crest of the school, a mark of protection against predatory Fae, shimmered above each student and teacher. Some of the students had other signs of protection. Vega recognized the crests of well-off families who could afford the best protection for their children. These wards weren’t different from what Vega had seen before when she used her powers to see through enchantments, but the amulet required much less energy and no skill. Even a dunce could have used it.
Ms. Suarez wasn’t where Vega had last seen her. Vega scanned the crowd, penetrating the illusions of glamour on girls who had tried to make their appearance more beautiful. Most of those façades she’d already known were there, though Vega hadn’t bothered wasting her magic seeing through unimpressive glamours.
Vega spotted a figure in gray weaving through the students, turned away as she patted them on the shoulders like a nurturing old matron might do.
Ms. Suarez turned, the mirage of her silver eye overlaid on top of the real eye.
Vega gasped as she took in Ms. Suarez’s true appearance revealed under a façade of glamour.
She was young and beautiful.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Beauty Is in the Eye of the Beholder
Vega had an excellent ability to detect glamours—and to see through them when she chose. She had always known Ms. Suarez used an illusion over her silver eye and another over her face, but it hadn’t seemed like a prudent use of her time, trying to see through an old crone’s spell to find her even more ghastly than she appeared.
What Vega hadn’t counted on was the opposite—that the teacher she had assumed was old was actually young. Ms. Suarez’s hair was long and white, similar to what Vega usually saw, but it was healthier than what the illusion hid. Not one eye, but both eyes were brown. Her complexion was the same tan without her glamour, but her face was free of wrinkles.
Ms. Suarez walked with a cane, or what Vega now realized was a staff imbued with magical properties of protection, but she wasn’t stooped. Ms. Suarez was healthy and young. She was so beautiful, it was difficult for Vega to tear her gaze from what she had assumed was an old crone’s face. Light shimmered off her exposed skin.
Ms. Suarez had a high percentage of Fae in her ancestry, something akin to a siren or nymph, though exactly what kind it was hard to say. A second later, Vega realized the glitter of light on Ms. Suarez’s skin was fish scales, attesting to a water siren rather than a forest nymph. She might be a lara or yara, considered to be the equivalent of the Lady of the Lake, but with a penchant for drowning men.
Ms. Suarez turned her cool gaze on Vega. Her perfect lips tugged downward.
Vega’s heart lurched as she realized she was staring. Did Ms. Suarez know she knew? It also happened Vega was using up the power of the amulet unnecessarily. Vega pretended she’d dropped something behind the table. She stooped and took off the necklace.
Hazel, the snooping sasquatch, had seated herself by this point. She turned toward Vega. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Vega said quickly.
Hazel craned her neck. “That’s a pretty necklace.”
“Close your mouth before I close it for you permanently.” Vega pocketed the necklace and stood, glaring daggers at Hazel.
Several students turned toward them. Ms. Suarez continued to study Vega. Despite the way her heart thundered under the scrutiny of her former teacher’s gaze, Vega attempted to act as if nothing were wrong.
Vega filled her tray with a full breakfast. When Ms. Suarez wasn’t looking, she tried to use her own abilities to see through the other teacher’s glamour, but she couldn’t. She hadn’t known glamours could be so thick. Why would Ms. Suarez disguise her true appearance? Did the administration know, or had she fooled them too?
And what had the amulet revealed about Vega’s own secrets when other people wore it? She could see why someone might have wanted Henrietta and Sherry out of the way for using it.
Vega headed toward the exit. Mr. Reade greeted Vega with a smile as he approached the teacher table for breakfast. She nodded to him, but she didn’t turn or answer as he called out to her. She kept Ms. Suarez in her peripheral vision, where she could see if the supposed old crone might be hexing her.
Vega hurried out. The stone hallway grew smokier as she approached the wing of classrooms and ascended the steps. Whatever the kitchen had burned, they had burned a lot of it. Burnt porridge meant students would probably be coming to class hungry—and crabby. She would have to face that challenge in a few minutes, but she wasn’t ready to become distracted by trivial matters yet.
A murderer was on the loose. Someone was leaving Vega notes. Ms. Suarez?
Feldspar Gordmayer nearly plowed into her in the stairwell, a bucket of water in his hands as he rushed past. Vega dreaded finding another cauldron had exploded. Hopefully more students hadn’t been murdered.
Her thoughts flitted back to Ms. Suarez. Why would a beautiful young woman want to look old? Siren beauty could be distracting for both men and women, but that was secondary to being the target of Witchkin prejudices against those with unfavorable heritage, something Vega knew all too well. Was this secret worth killing someone over? Vega didn’t want to stereotype Ms. Suarez as being a siren who drowned men and was using this disguise to go incognito, but she had to keep that possibility in mind.
The hall grew heavier with smoke. Vega wasn’t even headed toward the kitchen anymore. She hastened her pace toward the potions classrooms on the second floor.
Both Malisha’s and Ms. Suarez’s rooms were empty. The second floor was relatively free of smoke. Hadn’t Mr. Gordmayer come this way? She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t paid attention.
Shouts came from upstairs. She rushed back toward the end of the hallway to the stairwell and up another flight of stairs to the third floor. Her floor.
Smoke billowed from the far end of the hall. Students choked on the smoke, some of them crouched on the floor, presumably to get fresh air and not because they had decided to bow down to her—though she would have welcomed the latter if they had.
Vega waved the black cloud from her face, clearing the smoke with magic. “Why is there smoke in this hallway?” She nearly dropped her tray as she performed this task.
“Ms. Bloodmire, t
here’s a fire!” one of the students shouted.
“I hadn’t guessed.” Vega snorted.
A dozen students crowded in a mob at the end of the hall, though some were just outside Hazel’s classroom and Mr. Reade’s. Vega heard Mr. Christis, a water affinity, shouting from inside one of the rooms.
His voice came from her classroom, she realized.
Her heart lurched. There was only one reason a fire might be in Vega’s classroom. She rushed forward. Mr. Christis wove water through the air, steam rising from the front of the room.
Malisha Bane stood over the burnt skeleton of wood that had once been Vega’s desk. Her hands were raised as she worked a spell to extinguish flames. Vega’s suspicion of Ms. Suarez and what she might be hiding faded at seeing her nemesis standing over a desk that contained incriminating evidence against her.
Vega dropped her tray on a student desk. “What the hell did you do to my classroom?” She stalked toward her nemesis.
“I stopped a fire from spreading to the entire school.” Malisha kicked a cigarette butt on the floor toward Vega. “Maybe if someone didn’t smoke at her desk over flammable papers, it wouldn’t go up in flames.”
“I don’t smoke.” Vega wouldn’t pollute her body with toxins from Morty-crafted vices—not unless it was alcohol, chocolate, or very good coffee. Vega eyed the cigarette on the floor in disdain. “You planted that there as supposed evidence to make me look negligent and irresponsible so the blame couldn’t be shifted back to you.”
Mr. Gordmayer cleared his throat. Mr. Christis continued to churn water magic, capturing the smoke in clouds of steam and cycling the soot to the floor as soggy ashes.
Malisha lifted up her nose. “I don’t need to plant evidence when you make yourself look bad.”