by Sarina Dorie
“Ladies,” Mr. Gordmayer said. “I’m sure this fire was just an accident. I doubt Ms. Bane had anything to do with starting it. She was one of the first people who arrived to help.”
Vega couldn’t believe how naive he was. “All the more reason to suspect her.”
“There’s that fire affinity—the student who attacked you yesterday. She’s the most likely culprit.” Mr. Gordmayer shifted from foot to foot uneasily.
“The student everyone was so quick to point the finger at yesterday after Malisha started that witch hunt?” Vega snarled. “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s locked in detention. No one can blame her this time. This was Malisha’s doing.”
Malisha tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “You’re just trying to shift the blame to someone else.”
Mr. Gordmayer placed a hand on Vega’s shoulder. “I’m certain Ms. Bane had nothing to do with this. It had to be one of the students.”
Frustration rose in Vega, reminding her of the same helpless feelings she’d experienced in her teenage years. She would not allow history to repeat itself and for Malisha to bully her. “No. It was Malisha. I have evidence of her crimes.” Vega kicked at a clump of smoking cinders where the drawer had been. The blackened wood collapsed. Sooty leaves of papers crumbled into ashes. Jessica’s notebook had been in the desk, but Vega’s wards had been too strong to allow Malisha to get in. Naturally, she had resorted to destruction instead.
Vega should have known Malisha would resort to such measures. Newfound loathing swelled in her as she thought of all the work she’d put into lessons, grades, and seating charts. She had waited too long to expose Malisha for being the manipulative, murdering arsonist she was. It was time to reveal Malisha’s true character before she went further.
She glared at her nemesis. “Malisha knew I had found a book with evidence implicating her in a crime. She murdered Sherry Agarwal yesterday the same way she killed Jessica Argyle nine years before.”
Malisha shook her head, genuine fear in her eyes.
Mr. Christis sucked in a breath. “That’s a serious accusation.” He nodded his head toward the growing crowd of students outside the door, peering in now that smoke wasn’t deterring them.
Vega ignored the little gossipmongers, not caring if they heard about the kind of villain their potions teacher was.
“That book proved Jessica Argyle had been blackmailing Malisha into doing her homework for her and cheating in her classes nine years ago. Then Jessica died, and her book disappeared. That notebook miraculously reappeared at the scene of yesterday’s crime. The same spell that killed Jessica killed Sherry.”
Malisha’s eyes narrowed like someone plotting her next kill.
Skepticism painted across Mr. Gordmayer’s face. “Why would you think Ms. Bane had anything to do with this?”
“Because her handwriting was in that book.”
Malisha crossed her arms. “So was yours. Explain that.”
Vega hesitated. It was difficult to get to the bottom of this without incriminating herself. Anything she said in front of Mr. Gordmayer was certain to get back to Principal Gordmayer. It would just be one more tally against her.
A vicious smile curled Malisha’s lips upward. “And let’s not omit the detail about a certain library book from the restricted section being checked out in your name nine years ago. A book containing the spell that killed Jessica Argyle.”
“You’re a liar! Obviously, you’re trying to frame me!” Vega lunged forward.
Mr. Christis must have seen the venom in her eyes because he placed himself in her path. “Calm down.”
He was ancient, but he was stronger than he looked.
Ms. Suarez hobbled through the door. “What’s going on here?”
Vega repeated her accusation, gaze on Malisha, the burner of desks and stomper of frog familiars.
Mr. Christis leaned closer to Mr. Gordmayer. “Who is Jessica Argyle again?”
Ms. Suarez glanced from Mr. Christis to Vega.
Malisha rolled her eyes as if she couldn’t believe a veteran teacher would forget a student name from close to a decade before. “She’s a student who died nine years ago from an exploding-cauldron fire in Ms. Suarez’s class.”
“Nine years ago, Jessica had been coercing at least five different people into doing her assignments,” Vega said. “She was threatening to reveal the secrets of her peers if they didn’t do her bidding.”
“Oh dear, that’s horrible.” Mr. Gordmayer ran a hand through his tousled brown hair. “Why didn’t anyone report this to the principal or me?”
A student peeked in from the hallway and then dodged back.
Vega felt her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Did he actually think she would incriminate herself for helping someone cheat after what the principal had threatened?
Ms. Suarez leaned against her cane. “So who were the students being blackmailed into doing her homework?”
Malisha ticked off the names on her hand. “Me, Vega, two other students, and. . . .” Her gaze lingered on Ms. Suarez, though she didn’t say the other teacher’s name. “She was blackmailing an adult as well.”
“Who?” Ms. Suarez leaned on her cane.
Vega now knew Malisha knew everything, or nearly everything that she knew—either because she had stolen the book from Vega in the first place—or because she had figured it out based on whom she had observed Jessica threatening all those years ago. Jessica hadn’t exactly made her harassment secret.
Could it be that Malisha had also concluded there was something suspicious going on with Ms. Suarez? Vega so much would have preferred that it was her nemesis behind people dying—mostly so she could prove it and get rid of her.
Ms. Suarez placed a hand on her hip. “Who was the adult this girl was blackmailing?”
“She was a teacher.” Vega gazed at Ms. Suarez with cool disapproval. Any teacher who had to resort to murdering students to keep their secrets had failed in her Machiavellian classroom-management techniques. Vega was quite certain she wouldn’t have sunk to that herself.
“Well, who was it?” Mr. Gordmayer demanded.
Malisha crossed her arms. From the way she avoided looking at Ms. Suarez, it should have been obvious, but she wasn’t going to spill the beans. Probably she was still hoping people would blame Vega rather than her neighbor teacher.
Vega always had to do all the dirty work. “Ms. Suarez’s handwriting was in Jessica’s notebook.”
“And you think that means I killed her?” Ms. Suarez’s face flushed pink. “I write comments in all your books when I find mistakes.”
“These weren’t corrections,” Vega said.
Malisha’s forehead crinkled in what appeared to be concern. “There were entire potions written in that notebook in your handwriting.”
Ms. Suarez snorted. “And you think I did that because she was blackmailing me?”
Vega crossed her arms. “Why else would you do a student’s homework for her?” It was the only reason Vega would lower herself to do someone else’s work for them, peer or student.
Ms. Suarez shook her head. “I always write in potions journals to help students who fall behind in my classes.” She hobbled toward the door, muttering under her breath.
Vega couldn’t tell whether she was cursing them or talking to herself. For not actually being an old woman, she certainly behaved like one.
Ms. Suarez waved the small gathering of teachers after her. “Come along to my classroom.”
Malisha elbowed her way past Vega to follow. Vega considered hexing Malisha while her back was turned, but the principal’s husband would have seen, and he would have reported her. Teenagers whispered out in the hallway, parting for the adults to pass.
Mr. Gordmayer plastered a smile on his face, showing off a set of perfect white teeth. “Run along, girls. You’re missing breakfast. That’s the most important meal of the day.”
“Except to some
creatures. Freaks prefer midnight snacks,” Malisha muttered from the hallway.
Vega knew that was a dig at her. As it happened, Vega did not eat people at midnight. Ghouls could ingest meat any time of day. Midnight was simply the time they transformed. Vega didn’t respond. She had no reason to give Malisha more information about herself than she already knew.
Vega gave her desk a final glance before following the other teachers.
Ms. Suarez led the staff down the hall to the stairwell and to her room on the second floor. She tapped the door with her wand, and it creaked open. She shuffled over to the stack of books to be graded on her desk. Agitation filled Vega as she waited to see what it contained.
Mr. Gordmayer closed the door behind the teachers, sealing the students out of the room so that whatever Ms. Suarez intended to show them would remain private.
Or more or less private. He hadn’t used a sound-barrier charm.
Ms. Suarez flipped through a book until she found what she was looking for. She held it out to Malisha, who stood the closest.
Mr. Christis crowded next to them. “Whose book is this?” He turned to the front of the book.
Vega didn’t need a vision-enhancing amulet to show off the name: Emily Akamine. Ms. Suarez flipped through another book, handing Vega a leather journal with Zaria Mihailovic’s name on it. A spell had been written out in Ms. Suarez’s handwriting.
Mr. Gordmayer cleared his throat. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this work for students?”
Vega was just as confused. “You never wrote anything in my notebooks when I was a student.”
Malisha’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “It seems like you’re showing unusual favoritism toward specific students. Any particular reason?”
Malisha’s gaze met Vega’s. For once, it seemed they were on the same page.
“No. I never needed to write in your books. You were never too sick to take notes, mentally impaired, or had injuries in your dominant hands. Not while you were in my classes, anyway.” Ms. Suarez looked from Vega to Malisha. “Neither one of you ever needed tutoring or assistance.” Ms. Suarez reached for another book out of the stack. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten about that burn that Emily took two weeks to recover from after being injured in air pelota. She couldn’t write, so I sat with her after school so she could translate the spell, and I wrote it down for her.” She nudged the book toward Mr. Gordmayer. “Zaria was sick in the infirmary for three days last quarter, so I wrote down the potions she missed in class in order to make it easier for her to get caught up.”
“Oh,” Vega said. Those actually seemed like reasonable accommodations. “Why did you write out Jessica’s potions?”
“She cut classes because she couldn’t keep up.” Ms. Suarez shoved another book at Malisha. “That poor girl had dyslexia. Instead of giving her the extra support she needed to succeed, the administration told her they intended to expel her if she didn’t raise her grades.” She glared at Mr. Gordmayer.
He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I didn’t know she had a learning disability.”
“No. You just carry out your wife’s orders without question.” Ms. Suarez grimaced.
Vega studied the young/old teacher. There was nothing like school politics to muddle their current problems. Then again, if Ms. Suarez was as crafty as she needed to be to conceal secrets, she might simply have been using that to distract them from the real matter at hand.
Vega would have done so in her place.
“So Jessica wasn’t blackmailing you?” Malisha asked, her tone incredulous. “You were helping her get caught up?”
Malisha had come to many of the same conclusions Vega had, yet Vega still couldn’t figure out her agenda.
Ms. Suarez leaned against her staff. “That’s right, dearie.”
Vega didn’t think this was all there was to this story. “Are you saying Jessica didn’t discover your secret?” She was going to have to bluff to pull this off. “The same secret Sherry learned about your true identity?”
Ms. Suarez straightened. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Vega had hit a nerve. “You’ve been disguising your true face for years. Is it really a coincidence that the girl who was blamed for the accident yesterday had an amulet that revealed your true appearance?” Whether Sherry had actually seen Ms. Suarez’s siren form, Vega didn’t actually know.
Ms. Suarez’s face flushed pink. “My true appearance is none of your concern.”
“What is your true appearance?” Mr. Christis leaned forward with interest.
Mr. Gordmayer cleared his throat. “Principal Gordmayer knows about Ms. Suarez’s problem and has deemed it unnecessary for staff to know.” He patted Ms. Suarez on the shoulder. “You don’t have to discuss this with anyone. No one is accusing you of a crime.”
Ms. Suarez glowered at Vega. “Beauty isn’t as advantageous as you would think.”
Yara were known for making others fall in love with them. Is that what she meant? Obviously, Ms. Suarez did have a secret and probably a scandalous past, though the reasons she’d hidden her appearance might not have been for the reasons Vega had suspected.
“That still doesn’t explain the fire.” Malisha closed the notebook she held with an air of finality. “Unless my first suspicions were correct, and Vega was destroying the evidence to conceal her own behavior, we don’t know who set it off.”
“Do you truly think I would burn my own desk just to get rid of a book? Do you realize my lesson plans are destroyed? My seating charts and gradebook were in my desk.”
Malisha imitated Vega’s refined accented. “‘Boo-hoo! Look at me. My life is horrible and everyone should feel bad for me and be nice to me because I have to regrade projects.’” She rolled her eyes.
Vega’s fingers itched to close around Malisha’s throat.
The door to Ms. Suarez’s classroom burst open so hard it slammed against the wall. Principal Gordmayer stood there, her eyes blazing with fury.
“Where is that little brat?” she demanded.
Mr. Gordmayer’s eyes went wide.
“Who?” Ms. Suarez asked.
“Henrietta Stevens. She isn’t in the detention room any longer.” The principal pointed an accusing finger at her husband. “You were supposed to give her a bathroom break.”
A magical pyromaniac was on the loose? Vega thought of her burnt desk.
“Oh, yes, about that. . . . There was a fire, you see. I ran to see what was going on and left her for a minute. As Ms. Bloodmire pointed out, it’s unlikely Henrietta started today’s fire. . . .” Mr. Gordmayer’s smile faltered, and he bit his lip. “We have some things to discuss regarding that.” He glanced at Vega and smiled as if he expected her to save him.
Vega dropped the notebook onto the desk, interested to see how he would dig himself out of the grave he’d apparently buried himself in.
“You let a potential murderer escape.” Principal Gordmayer’s voice lowered to a dangerous growl. “In my school.”
Mr. Gordmayer edged back from his wife. “She probably isn’t a murderer. Most likely it was an accident. Just like you said at the staff meeting.”
The door closed behind the principal. This time a sound-barrier spell was employed. The principal smoothed it into place so seamlessly Vega barely noticed her casting it. “I said that to ensure no one panicked.” She prowled toward her husband. “It’s bad enough we’re no longer ranked the number-one private academy for Witchkin. Those rumors about students disappearing after graduation means parents don’t feel we can adequately prepare their children for the real world. We just lost two more today.”
“We lost two graduates?” Mr. Gordmayer asked.
“No. Students enrolled in the school. They’ve left to attend some second-rate school.” Principal Gordmayer’s lips pressed into a line.
Vega stared, dumbfound. The Lady of the Lake School for Girls was the best academy for the magicall
y gifted. If graduating students were being abducted, Vega would have heard by now. On the other hand, the principal had been especially focused on what parents thought about the school the day before. Teachers had been apprehensive about budget cuts and dwindling enrollment. Could it be true?
Vega was teaching at a subpar Witchkin school?
Mr. Gordmayer’s voice rose. “That isn’t our fault. It’s the Fae preying on the weakest—”
Mrs. Gordmayer lifted a finger. Vega couldn’t tell whether her husband silenced because of magic or because he feared her wrath.
Mrs. Gordmayer went on. “The last thing we need is for students to tell their parents there was a murder here. They’ll think we’re negligent. Do you think we can afford more parents pulling their students out of the school?”
Vega raised an eyebrow. Today was the first time the principal had acknowledged that the incident was more than an accident. She could now see why. Though in Vega’s opinion, they might be able to spin this to their benefit. If students could survive the dangers of their Witchkin peers, that gave them plenty of practice against vicious Fae.
Mr. Gordmayer began, “I will assemble the divination teachers to—”
Mrs. Gordmayer nodded to Malisha. “I need you to cover Ms. Schneider’s first-period homeroom.”
Malisha’s jaw dropped. “But—”
Vega attempted to hide her pleased smile.
The principal pointed to her husband. “Find someone to cover Uriel Ottoman’s homeroom so he can help us find Henrietta.” She turned on her heel toward the exit.
“I guess we know who started that fire at Ms. Bloodmire’s desk,” Mr. Christis said.
Vega stared at the old man, wondering if he had gone senile.
A warded detention room was Henrietta’s alibi. The fire had already been underway when Mr. Gordmayer had left her to attend to the emergency—presumably forgetting about her at the girl’s bathroom.
The door swung open, and the principal marched out. Students stumbled back from the door, parting like the Red Sea.
Vega strode out after the principal. She had a burnt classroom to attend to.