“Gladwell. Belhollow. Got it.” I nodded. “And where did you say this place is?”
Wallace stretched the corners of his lips into a grimace. “Ah, well… I didn’t, actually.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t you think that might help?”
“The thing is…” He licked his lips nervously.
“Go on.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged lightly. “But I’m sure with your talent—”
“You don’t know?” I shouted. “This is the only place I’ll be safe, and you don’t even know where it is?”
“It’s obviously not something they advertise to witches. We would burn it down.” He shrugged, like it would be all in a day’s work for a witch.
“But you know this woman? This Belwell? Can’t you call her and ask for directions?”
He sighed. “Belhollow. And no. I cannot.”
I stared at him. He stared at me.
Finally, he jerked a thumb at the door. “You really have to go, my dear. I have every faith that your gift will guide you there.”
“Great. Excellent. Wonderful. Sounds like a plan.”
I looked at the door. My stomach rumbled at the delicious aroma of bacon drifting through it. It sounded like my death was imminent no matter what. I might as well go home and have breakfast. Check on my father. Hang out with Eric and Vicky and wait for the end to come. Because this dude was crazy if he thought my magic was powerful enough to guide me to the undisclosed location of a werewolf college.
“Meena,” he prodded. “Really. You must go now.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, shoulders slumping with resignation. “I’m going.”
His fingers closed around the doorknob, opening it a careful inch. The bright florescent restroom light flooded into the dark office, illuminating the moisture that glistened in the corners of Professor Wallace’s eyes.
“You never answered me,” I said. “Why should I trust you?”
The old man cleared his throat. For someone who swore we were in such a hurry, he very slowly pulled a handkerchief from within his cloak and blotted his eyes before equally slowly tucking the silk cloth away.
“Well, you see, my dear… when you asked if I had known your grandmother, and I said that I had not… that was a bit of a lie.”
I cocked my head, studying his face. The darkness had hidden the depth of his distress, but now it showed plain as day. He was absolutely terrified for me. What did that mean? What was he trying to say?
“Speaking of her…” Wallace said with sudden forced brightness. “I have something I believe belongs to you.”
And without any further explanation of their relationship, Professor Wallace pulled my beautiful white wand from the pocket of his cloak.
I sucked in an astonished breath, snatching it unceremoniously from his hand. “What? How did you? Professor?”
The old man shrugged and winked. “No time for stories, I’m afraid. Off you go.”
He patted my shoulder, and then, as if overcome by whatever he knew that I didn’t, he pulled me into an awkward hug. Not wanting to make it more awkward, and genuinely grateful to get my wand back, I returned his embrace. He tightened it, and I swore I heard his breath catch in his throat.
He pushed me back and gave me a strained smile. “You’ll do what you were meant to do. I have no doubt.”
“Thank you,” I said, and my own voice sounded a little choked.
He tugged the door open wider. I breathed in the pungent scent of cleaning liquids that could only barely cover up the permanent stench of a greasy spoon’s toilet.
And then I slammed my hands into Wallace’s chest and shoved him into the bathroom.
I had just enough time to shout, “Please go check on my dad!” before I slammed the door. The light vanished from around the cracks, taking all of the diner sounds and smells with it. As if this door had never led home at all.
Chapter 11
The yellow door loomed at the end of the hallway, its metallic surface reflecting the red DO NOT ENTER sign that glowed above it. Blood and magic pulsed in my fingertips, matching the rhythmic slapping of my shoes on the tile floor. There was no time to waste on sneaking. The chances that Wallace would actually go check on my father instead of re-opening the breach were slim to none. I was just lucky Morgana le Fay Hall was right next door to the administrative building and not all the way across campus.
My sneakers skidded on the freshly mopped floor when I tried to throw on my brakes. I stumbled forward, my hands splaying across the blocky blue letters proclaiming the Department of Transmogrification waited on the other side.
Braden and Castle waited on the other side.
At least that was the hope. The gamble. I had already bet on the wrong horse once tonight—losing again would almost certainly be a death sentence. But I had to throw the dice. Let the chips fall where they may. I wasn’t going to be the kind of person who left anyone behind.
Reaching into the pocket of my jeans, I withdrew the large silver key I had taken from Serenity in the Arena. It had worked on the building’s main entrance, but would it work on a door marked Access Restricted? That would make this quick and easy, but it didn’t entirely matter. If it didn’t work, I would simply summon every ounce of angry red magic in my body and blow it off its hinges. Tonight, I definitely had it in me.
I slid the key into the lock and twisted.
Nothing happened.
My forehead fell against the door with a frustrated snarl.
The hard way, then.
But when I tried to pull the key out, it wouldn’t budge. A thin coating of anxious sweat seemed to cover my entire body immediately. Had a silent alarm been sounded by my futile attempt? Were Singh’s Martials already on their way? My brain sent an urgent message to my hand to release the key, but my heart intercepted it, and my fingers remained frozen to the silver. I wasn’t giving up that easy.
My wand gouged into the small of my back where I had it tucked into the waistband of my jeans. Dropping it into the abyss of my jacket pocket had seemed unwise. Knowing it was extremely petty, I still couldn’t help feeling a little salty that neither my grandmother’s ghost nor Professor Wallace had bothered to include a holster with this gift. Where was I supposed to get one now?
With my left hand, I withdrew the wand, leaving my right hand on the key. I had no idea what I was doing, but once again, a magical instinct seemed to be guiding me. Almost as though someone in my past had tried this before.
Holding my breath, I touched the tip of the wand to the shaft of the key. The magic that had been throbbing in my veins rushed toward my left hand, funneling through my fingers and into the thin piece of wood as though a dam had been lifted on a downhill river. The wand hummed with minuscule vibrations, and then the tip began to glow a soft green.
The key followed suit.
And then the entire door flashed from yellow to green like a traffic light skipping past red. With a heavy metallic groan, the door swung inward and banged into a wall. A warm draft whooshed into the hallway, strong enough to lift the tendrils of hair that fallen over my face.
Stepping forward—holding my wand out like a knife—I squinted into the dark opening and discovered a stone wall about six feet away. My heart plummeted. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. But as my head drooped, I caught a flicker of light near the floor.
No, not the floor. A spiraling metal stairway.
Squinting into its depths, I could make out a line of candle flames descending vertically until they vanished in a dark hole. My stomach flip-flopped. What if this were the only way out? If anyone came for me, I would be trapped like a rat.
Or a bear.
Grasping onto the image of Braden waking up as a bear with a hangover, I plunged down the stairwell. Clutching the railing with one hand, I pointed my wand down and ahead of me. The tip glowed seemingly of its own volition, casting a narrow beam of light that at least showed me there weren’t any steps missing.
The staircase rattled all the way down. My head swam with the seemingly never-ending circle I was making, but finally my feet touched down on stone in an arched hallway, lit by the faintest possible candles. A wooden door waited at the other end.
I patted my pocket for the silver key, but it wasn’t there. I stopped, casting a remorseful look over my shoulder at the stairwell. I had left it in the yellow door. Closing my eyes, I indulged in a split second of self-kicking, and then whirled around, shooting a blast of magic at the barrier standing between me and my friends.
The wood splintered and fell away in smoldering shards.
I bolted through the opening, feeling confident that should I encounter Professor Phorm, there wouldn’t be any problems.
But the chamber on the other side was empty. Of humans, anyway.
A circle of seven iron-barred cells surrounded me, each one separated from the next by a thick stone wall. Torches blazed on the outside of each partition, casting writhing shadows on the open space between the cages. Heart pounding, I moved forward into the area, shoes crunching over bits of stone and straw and tiny bones.
The sound of heavy breathing filled the chamber, almost blotting out the peculiar sound of an operatic male voice faintly singing a song I recognized from Vicki’s musical theatre phase as “All I Ask of You” from The Phantom of the Opera. I had to hand it to Phorm—the man knew how to set an appropriately unsettling mood for his dungeon.
Swallowing my fear, I approached the first cell.
A white blur slammed into the bars, snarling and snapping, its fangs clanging on the iron. I stumbled backward, tripped over a chunk of bone, and landed hard on my tail bone. My wand clattered to the stones, rolling several feet away.
Serenity’s muzzle squeezed between the bars, lifting her lips all the way to her pink gums as she released a gurgling growl. Saliva dripped onto the floor with a dull pat-pat-pat. More menacing sounds erupted from the cage next to hers, but all I could make out of Leia was her glowing white eyes and the occasional white flash of teeth.
Wincing, I pushed myself onto my feet. I had no idea what Phorm had planned for those two, but they would just have to learn to grin and bear it. There was no way I was opening either of those cells. Dusting myself off, I limped over to retrieve my wand. As I bent to grab it, I noticed a change in the haunting music emanating from its unseen source. The male singer’s pitch had risen to a humorous height—he was singing the female half of the duet.
I paused, tilting my head to get a better sense of where the voice was coming from. I had assumed it was a radio that Phorm left playing for his pets—music soothing the savage beasts and all that—but I couldn’t imagine any recording of a hit Broadway musical in which the racket grating in my ears would be allowed to happen.
Turning in a quick circle, my eyes swept the room for another door I might have missed. Was Phorm lurking somewhere nearby, and was he intentionally being weird, or was this just what he did to pass the time in the shower?
A shiver rippled through my body, urging me to hurry. Cautiously, I approached the third cell. The stone walls shimmered with dancing shadows cast from the torches on either side of the barred front. Two glowing green eyes watched me from the far-right corner of the enclosure. Something emitted a soft hiss, and the eye lights blinked out.
“Professor Castle?” I whispered, creeping closer. “It’s me… Eggplant. Well, not anymore, I guess.” I looked down at the brown leather that had replaced my purple cloak. “It’s Meena. Do you… do you still know me?”
Silence from inside the cage.
I cleared my throat and took another step forward. “No? Well, I’m not here to hurt you. If you come closer, I’ll change you back.”
A low growl rumbled out of the corner.
“Please?” I begged. “I don’t think I can do it if I can’t see you.”
No response.
“Come on, Castle.” I put a lilt in my voice, as though I were calling a pet home for supper. “Here kitty, kitty. I want to—”
The mountain lion lunged forward with blistering speed, jamming both forearms through the bars. I leaped backwards, narrowly avoiding her slashing claws. She smashed her feline muzzle against the iron, spitting raw animal hatred through her bared teeth. An eerie yowl warbled out of her as she stretched her powerful arms out farther.
I didn’t realize I was still backing up until I bumped into the set of bars opposite Castle’s cage. Hot, moist breath fell across my neck. Something warm and rubbery touched the base of my skull. Liquid dripped under my shirt collar and ran down my back. I gagged, clamping my free hand over my mouth.
Spinning around and stepping back, I found Braden’s new face gazing out at me. Unlike Castle, he didn’t seem angry. Just… really, really confused. Even though it had been hours since his last drink, I couldn’t imagine what that much alcohol would do to a bear’s much smaller brain.
He slowly blinked the sad brown eyes set deep within his impossibly wide skull.
“Oh, Braden…” I whispered.
He let out a soft moan and slumped into a sitting position, his tremendous bulk spilling over his stubby back legs in a way that would have been comical had he not been a person trapped in a bear suit trapped in a cage in a dungeon deep beneath a college run by magical super villains. Or something like that.
I wrapped my fingers around the bars framing his miserable face. “Braden? Do you know me? I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” My voice choked, and I had to wait for my throat to clear on its own. “I’m going to fix you, okay? I’m going to turn you back. Hold still for me. That’s it. Good boy.” I winced. “Sorry.”
The bear lowered its head, gazing down at the straw between its jutting back feet. He scratched at the bedding until he uncovered a small bug. It tried to skitter away, but he smashed his paw down on it with an irritated grunt. He leaned over, sniffing with his enormous nostrils.
“Oh, Braden, no, honey… please don’t… oh. Okay. You did that. That’s… that’s alright. I guess.” I averted my eyes as he licked his lips with the same enormous purple tongue that had just licked the bug off the floor.
Could there be anything more unfair than realizing who it was you really wanted to kiss only to have to watch them consume a live insect because you accidentally turned them into a bear?
Braden heaved his bulk onto all fours and turned awkwardly toward the rear of his cage. My hand shot through the bars, brushing the shaggy fur of his hip. His head snapped around, clacking his long yellow fangs at me. I quickly yanked my arm back out.
“Wait. Stay right there. I can fix this, I swear.”
The bear snorted and lumbered into the shadows, claws scraping along the straw and stone. Frantic, I lifted my wand and closed my eyes, willing every ounce of magic in my body toward the long, thin piece of wood. I felt the same vibration in it that I had felt upstairs, and my heart dared to soar. I could do this.
But when I opened my eyes, the tip of my wand glowed aqua, not white. True, I was incredibly new at this, but I instinctively understood that this job required moon magic. Who knew what would happen if I hit with him something else?
At the last second, I pointed my wand at the floor and a blue bolt of energy shot into it. It left a small scorch mark, but nothing else.
Panicking, I leaned my head against the bars. This was taking too long. There was no way Wallace hadn’t made it back yet, and at any moment, Singh could figure out that Dash had lied. Anger flared hot in my hand. He could have told me he was going to do that. It would have given me a much bigger head start. But that was stupid. I wouldn’t have known Braden and Castle were here, and I would have spent the rest of the night—also known as the rest of my life—scouring the woods for them.
A wave of longing swept over me. I need Dash’s touch. Not romantically—never romantically, I knew that now—but magically. If he were here, I could do this. I had no idea why. And it looked like it would be quite some time, if ever, before I found out what exactly m
ade our magic so right for each other while we were not.
Looking up, I locked eyes with the bear once more. He watched me from the rear of the cell, his enormous head resting dejectedly on his paws. Tears sprang to my eyes. A frustrated, angry, heartbroken sob ripped from my throat.
“I’m so sorry,” I whimpered. “I… I don’t think I can do it after all. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have written you off just because… you were hurting. I would do anything to go back.”
Someone laughed.
I jolted away from the bars as though shocked, spinning to face a still empty room.
“What a stupid little witch.”
Chapter 12
The voice appeared inside my head, young and male and crisply British.
A beam of light shot from my wand, unbidden. I swept it through the cells, across Serenity and Leia and Castle, two empty spaces, and Braden. When the light hit the seventh cell, the one nearest the entrance, I gasped and stumbled back, not in horror or even fear, but in total breathless awe.
I had never seen anything as beautiful as the creature staring back at me.
A golden wolf.
In the flickering torchlight, his luxurious coat shimmered like silk sheets smoothed across a bed. He stood with one paw lifted like a bird dog, stretching his refined muzzle toward me. His head cocked to the left and to the right and back again, amber eyes blinking from behind a mask of bronze markings. His liver-colored nose twitched, testing my scent. His lips lifted in the slightest growl.
Coming to my senses, I thrust my wand at him. “Who are you?”
His ears pricked with interest, and he took a few careful steps forward, claws clicking on the stone floor.
“Who are you?” I narrowed my eyes with a sudden realization. “Was that you singing?”
The wolf’s head jerked back in surprise. “You can hear me?”
“Yes, I can hear you,” I snapped. “And I’m not stupid, thank you very much.”
Broken Wand Academy Page 38